The U.S. is in a panic about the USAID freeze. Africa, not so much.

Rethinking USAID and the Future of African Sovereignty

What if the end of USAID isn’t a crisis for Africa—but an opportunity? What happens when Africa stops being seen as a place to be "developed" and starts defining its own future—on its own terms?

For decades, USAID has been a defining force in Africa’s landscape—a foreign policy tool wielded by the United States under the guise of development and humanitarian aid. The Trump administration’s decision to freeze USAID operations is a pivotal moment that forces us to ask, What happens when the development model that shaped post-independence Africa is suddenly withdrawn? And more importantly, how does Africa redefine its future beyond aid dependency?

The Harsh Reality of USAID’s Role

Since the 1960s, aid has poured into Africa. But after 80 years, what do we have to show for it? We still can’t prove that aid has done more good than harm. In fact, we believe the opposite—it’s been a net negative. We see a continent shaped by dependency and stunted by foreign meddling. We see a continent where foreign donors can sometimes influence national policies and budgets more than local governments do.

An honest interrogation into how aid has structurally shaped Africa’s economies, politics, and culture (often in negative ways) is missing from mainstream narratives. And rightfully so; many people in and from the Global North make a very good living by working in the development field, and yet even more people in the Global North benefit as their local economies are propped up by foreign aid policies. Foreign aid has been a driver of global inequalities, ensuring donor nations gain more than recipient countries. People of power and plenty don’t easily give up their privilege. The conventional view celebrates moments of direct impact—food delivered to famine-stricken communities, medicine distributed to those in need. But what about the broader consequences?

Take for example the Structural Adjustment Programs (SAPs) imposed by the International Monetary Fund and World Bank in the 1980s and 1990s that required countries to implement austerity measures, privatization, and trade liberalization in exchange for loans. 

In Kenya, for example, the fabrics and clothing industry was gutted. Trade protections were removed, second-hand clothes flooded the market, and local textile mills shut down. Today, in Nairobi’s mitumba markets, you can buy a practically new kids’ Minecraft pajama set for $2 or Like-new Nike shoes for $15. For the average Kenyan consumer, that’s a win. But for the Kenyan fashion industry? It’s 30 years of lost growth.

Farmers in the US are Hurt by USAID Freeze

The disruption of USAID is not just a crisis for the entire chain of employees of the ecosystem and direct recipients of aid, it is a potential inflection point for Africa. And it’s a major disruption to U.S. economic interests. And that’s what makes this moment so interesting.

Consider how much the U.S. agricultural industry relies on aid programs. American farmers have been some of the biggest opponents of USAID’s shutdown. Not out of altruism, but because USAID guarantees them a steady market.

In 2023 alone, the U.S. Department of Agriculture allocated $950 million for food aid programs. So what? American farmers earn almost a billion dollars from exporting their food through food aid programs. But at what cost to Africa? When does it make sense to ship actual food, rather than provide financial support to alleviate famine? Surely there must be food closer than the US no matter where in African you are. Africa has 65% of the world’s uncultivated arable land, after all. We have to ask critical questions and not to just act with our emotions. Why does food aid travel the way it does? Why not cultivate and distribute food in more effective ways? Here’s the cold truth: US farmers are reliant on exporting food as food aid. This isn’t altruism, it’s economics.

Let’s look at a real example. During Ethiopia’s great famine (1983-85), USAID shipped grains from the U.S. while locally grown food sat rotting in warehouses. Unfortunately, Ethiopia lacked the infrastructure to distribute its own food, yet, instead of funding local distribution, USAID prioritized importing American grain. The objective wasn’t to end hunger, it was to secure a market for U.S. farmers. 

Even today, USAID follows this rigid approach: food aid means shipping food—not money. Even when cash transfers might be the more effective solution. Even when climate realities make global food shipping increasingly unsustainable.

This isn’t charity. It’s economics. 

African Leaders Respond to USAID Freeze:

The Western media portrays Africa as reeling from USAID’s freeze. But listen to African leaders, and the tone is very different.

Kenya: Former president Uhuru Kenyatta sees this as an overdue shift. Speaking at a regional health summit in Mombasa, he said:

"Why are you crying? It’s not your government; it’s not your country. You don’t pay taxes in America… We have to begin to re-prioritize what is important for us as Africans on the continent.”

Kenyatta’s point is simple: We don’t control USAID. So why do we build critical services around funding we have no say over?

Rwanda: Paul Kagame has long resisted dependency on foreign aid. But the reality? It’s nearly impossible for African governments to say no. Aid agencies don’t just provide funding—they create soft power leverage.

“I think from being hurt, we might learn some lessons… African countries need to learn to be self-sufficient… They can’t rely on the generosity of others forever.”

Nigeria is taking a pragmatic approach, prioritizing continuity of essential services. Nigerian officials have mobilized contingency plans to replace lost funding. Health Minister Ali Pate reassured Nigerians:

"…we are a capable country, and we are determined to own up to that responsibility. Now, if others step in and support us, we appreciate it, but we are not begging for it.”

Nigeria, which previously received over $1 billion in U.S. aid annually, formed a multi-ministerial committee to sustain health services. One action by this committee has been to approve nearly ₦5 billion (≈$6.5 million) for emergency HIV medication supplies.

South Africa has taken a defensive stance, pushed into a corner as Trump and Musk attack the country’s domestic policies attempting to readjust landownership still skewed by apartheid. The government’s land redistribution efforts are aimed at correcting historical injustices, yet Trump and Musk have framed them as discriminatory against white landowners. Elon Musk, himself a white South African whose family wealth is tied to landownership, has fuelled this narrative. As a result, South African leaders have been forced into a conversation about the power dynamics of aid. Aid as not the necessity the US often portrays it as, but a tool of political leverage.

The questions remain.

Why is US is mourning the end of USAID and writing consistently about Africa reeling, when by-and-large Africans are saying “good riddance”?

How can African nations build critical government services that are not vulnerable to the shifting political winds of donor countries?

The Bigger Picture: Towards African Self-Sufficiency

The end of USAID could mark the beginning of a new chapter for Africa, if leaders take decisive action.

Let's look at an example. The health sector in Kenya, which has faced budget cuts for three consecutive years, is a prime example of where change is needed. The Abuja Declaration, signed in 2001, committed African Union members to allocate at least 15% of national budgets to healthcare. Yet, as of 2021, only two countries — Cabo Verde and South Africa — have met this target. The USAID freeze should not be a crisis but a catalyst for reform. Imagine if all countries met this target. 

The dismantling of USAID is a wake-up call to governments that have over-relied on funding for critical areas like health care and food security. Vulnerability in these key areas erodes a country’s sovereignty and nationalism. At the same time, responses from Africans should make people in the development field think deeply about their work.

The questions we need to answer:

How can countries effectively transition from reliance on foreign aid to sustainable self-sufficiency?

What alternative models of financing could be developed to enhance resilience against future shocks?

If we know that foreign aid is a mechanism of foreign policy and soft power, why are so many people unwilling or unable to see this truth?

What would the world look like if there was no aid?

How would Africa be different today if foreign aid never came to its shores? How might Africa’s future be different?

What Comes Next?

This moment calls for more than reactionary policies and pleading from people in the development field to let them get back to their work. It requires a strategic vision for Africa’s independence and an acceptance that it might have to look very different from what many people have built their careers on. African nations must:

1. Develop Sustainable Financing Models: Explore taxation reforms, public-private partnerships, and regional trade agreements to fund critical sectors.

2. Invest in Local Capacity: Strengthen homegrown industries from agriculture to healthcare to ensure resilience against external shocks and bolster labour markets.

3. Explore Futures without Development – African policymakers must shift from a mindset of aid dependency to one of innovation and self-determination. We know this is a tall order when aid agencies often force acceptance of aid, but, imagine throwing away the “development” paradigm. Develop scenarios where “development” doesn’t exist. It is a western concept placed upon countries in the Global South, after all.

The underlying theme is clear: Africa must redefine its priorities beyond foreign dependency, ensuring its future is shaped by its own strategic choices rather than external influences. This moment isn’t just about USAID. It’s about rethinking the entire development paradigm. What happens when we stop asking what foreign aid can do for Africa—and start questioning what the real role of development and foreign aid is in the world? Who are really the winners in a development paradigm? That’s the real question.

Whether we like it or not, development aid has had an exceptional(ly negative) impact on Africa, shaping its past, present, and future. But unlike what you might read about in Western media, this is an opportunity more than a crisis. If the moment is properly managed, Africa might get one step closer to real independence and sovereign control over its own future.