In the borderlands between Myanmar and Thailand, a humanitarian catastrophe is quietly unfolding. The abrupt dismantling of U.S. foreign aid programs has left thousands of Myanmar refugees in a state of desperation, with hunger, disease, and despair now the defining features of daily life. Families who once relied on international support now forage for food in the jungle, their children’s cries echoing the harsh reality of survival in the absence of help.
According to Devdiscourse, the U.S. withdrawal from its foreign aid commitments has plunged refugee camps into crisis. Food rations have dwindled, forcing parents to make impossible choices. For many, the only option is to scavenge for bamboo shoots, worms, or even grass to stave off starvation. Children, the most vulnerable, bear the brunt of this deprivation, with malnutrition and illness spreading rapidly across the camps.
One story, reported by the Associated Press, stands out among many: Mohammed Taher, a Rohingya father, watched helplessly as his two-year-old son, Hashim, succumbed to hunger and untreated illness. After U.S. food rations stopped arriving in April 2025, the family’s meals shrank from three a day to one. Taher’s son grew weaker by the day, suffering from diarrhea and begging for food. On May 7, Taher and his wife watched their baby take his final breath. “I lost my son because of the funding cuts,” Taher told the AP. “And it is not only me — many more children in other camps have also died helplessly from hunger, malnutrition and no medical treatment.”
Yet, just two weeks later, U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio declared before Congress, “No one has died” as a result of the government’s decision to gut its foreign aid program, and insisted, “No children are dying on my watch.” Taher’s response was unequivocal: “That is a lie.” For families like his, the consequences of the aid cuts are not abstract—they are devastatingly real.
The crisis is not confined to a single camp or family. The United Nations estimates that 40 percent of Myanmar’s population now requires humanitarian assistance. The country, which once counted the U.S. as its largest humanitarian donor, has become the epicenter of suffering for the world’s most vulnerable. In April, the U.N.’s World Food Program was forced to cut assistance to one million people across Myanmar due to the funding shortfall. In central Rakhine, the number of families unable to meet basic food needs skyrocketed from 33 percent in December 2024 to 57 percent by April 2025, according to WFP data cited by the Associated Press.
The impact of the aid cuts is compounded by Myanmar’s ongoing conflict and natural disasters. The military’s 2021 takeover has resulted in more than 7,300 civilian deaths and nearly 30,000 imprisonments, while a massive earthquake in March 2025 killed over 3,800 people. Amid this turmoil, safehouses for dissidents have shuttered, and health care services—already fragile—have all but vanished. The Rohingya minority, targeted in what the U.S. previously declared a genocide, is especially affected. “These U.S. cuts to humanitarian aid are assisting the military in their genocidal policy of starvation against the Rohingya,” Tun Khin, president of the Burmese Rohingya Organisation UK, told the AP.
The stories from the camps are harrowing. Aid workers describe scenes of children screaming for food, parents unable to provide medicine, and young people turning to glue-sniffing to numb their hunger pains. Michael Dunford, the WFP’s country director for Myanmar, recounted visiting Rakhine in April and witnessing mothers making thin soup from grass to feed their children. “The sense of desperation and also the lack of hope for this population was palpable,” Dunford said. One elderly man, in tears, told him, “If WFP doesn’t feed us, and the authorities won’t support us, then please drop a bomb on us — because we can’t continue in this way.”
The psychological toll is immense. For some, the pain of watching their families suffer has led to tragedy. Mohammed Amin, whose father Mohammed Eliyas took his own life after their food rations disappeared, described the despair that drove him to suicide. “My father became restless and hopeless,” Amin said. “The sadness and despair grew so heavy that he began to believe death might be better than continuing to live in such endless hunger and misery.”
The loss of U.S. aid has also meant the loss of jobs and health services. Mahmud Karmar, a refugee who once worked for the International Rescue Committee, lost both his job and his food rations when the U.S. ended its grant on July 31, 2025. He has since lost 16 kilograms, his frame so slight that friends barely recognize him. “We are almost dying,” Karmar said. “There is nothing for us here.” He now spends hours foraging in the jungle, sometimes drinking river water to fill his empty stomach. “The sorrow is so deep, I can’t even cry,” he admitted. “The entire world has forgotten the refugees and the people of Myanmar.”
Desperation has led to a surge in violence and theft within the camps. Karmar recounted how he and others recently rounded up 27 thieves in one night, including a friend who confessed, “We have nothing to eat.” For those too weak to forage, survival now depends on the charity of others—if any is available at all.
Children’s education has also suffered. Teacher Saung Hnin Wai reported that ten students at her primary school dropped out after the funding cuts, as their parents could no longer afford fees and needed their help foraging. The remaining students struggle with hunger, and the school’s supplies have dwindled to nothing. When the rice runs out, panic sets in among families, and parents like Naung Pate must reassure their children that they will find food, though there is never enough.
In a small measure to stave off mass starvation, the Thai government granted limited work rights to some of the 107,000 Myanmar refugees in its border camps. But for many, such as the elderly and disabled, this policy change offers little relief. Ababa Moe, a single mother caring for her cognitively impaired son, survives on the charity of her Christian church. “If we are going to starve, everybody will starve,” she said. “It’s not only me.”
A study published in The Lancet in June warned that the U.S. funding cuts could result in more than 14 million deaths, including over 4.5 million children under age five, by 2030. Aid workers, like Victor of Freedom House, describe the situation as “the lowest layer of hell.” Victor, who once helped hundreds of people defying Myanmar’s military regime, now receives frantic pleas for help he can no longer provide. “I don’t know what to tell them,” he confessed.
Though the U.S. spends only about 1 percent of its budget on foreign aid, President Donald Trump declared USAID a waste of money and dissolved it. While a temporary renewal of food aid was signed in September 2025, allowing rations to resume through the end of the year, the State Department has made clear there will be no further extensions. The future remains bleak for those trapped in the camps.
As Mahmud Karmar put it, “We will all die if it continues like this — I am certain of it. We can’t do this forever.” For Myanmar’s refugees, hope is running out, and the world’s silence is deafening.