With USAID’s sudden exit, thousands of anti-human trafficking efforts in Africa have stalled, and critical food aid programmes have dried up overnight.
But should we really be surprised? After all, US aid has never been about Africa—it has always been about America.
The recent uproar over USAID’s funding cuts has reignited debates on foreign aid dependency, but this moment should not be viewed as a catastrophe—it should be seen as an opportunity for Africa to reassess its reliance on external funding.
The truth is, American aid has always been a tool of political leverage, economic self-interest and strategic influence.
While some programmes have yielded tangible benefits, the overarching system has prioritised American interests over genuine African development.
The question now is not whether the US should restore funding, but whether Africa should have ever been so dependent on it in the first place.
USAID has long been wielded as a geopolitical instrument rather than an altruistic force.
During the Cold War, American aid to Africa was dictated not by need but by the political leanings of recipient governments.
The US propped up dictators like Mobutu Sese Seko in Zaire (now the Democratic Republic of the Congo), not because of a commitment to African development, but because he was a staunch ally against Soviet influence.
Despite running one of the most corrupt and oppressive regimes in modern African history, Mobutu received billions in US support because he aligned with Washington’s anti-communist agenda. (US State Department Archives).
Whenever Africa’s interests and America’s align, funding flows. But the moment those interests diverge, the tap is turned off.
The USAID funding cuts are merely the latest reminder of this reality. Many assume that USAID is about charity, but the numbers tell a different story.
A significant portion of US foreign aid is tied aid, meaning that recipient countries are required to purchase goods and services from the United States.
This ensures that aid money benefits American businesses rather than local African economies.
A 2006 Oxfam report found that up to 70 per cent of USAID funding never leaves the US, as it is spent on American contractors, NGOs and administrative overhead. (Oxfam International)
One of the most glaring examples of this is food aid. US law mandates that food assistance be sourced from American farmers and shipped using US-flagged vessels.
This practice not only increases costs but also disrupts African agricultural markets by undercutting local farmers.
Rather than helping Africa become self-sufficient in food production, these policies have reinforced dependency on American agricultural exports.
The US response to international crises often reflects its strategic interests rather than humanitarian concerns.
The contrast between Washington’s rapid financial and military aid to Ukraine and its lukewarm response to African conflicts is stark.
For instance, the war in Sudan has displaced millions, but has received only a fraction of the attention and funding that Ukraine has.
Similarly, Ethiopia’s civil war, which killed hundreds of thousands, saw delayed and reluctant US intervention, despite the severity of the crisis.
The same can be said of the Democratic Republic of the Congo, where decades of conflict have received limited sustained American engagement.
These disparities make it clear that American aid follows strategic interests—not humanitarian urgency.
Even when USAID does fund projects in Africa, much of the money remains within the US economy.
The aid industry has become a self-serving ecosystem, where contracts, consultancies and administrative costs absorb a significant share of allocated funds.
For example, a 2016 report found that of the $42 billion in US foreign aid allocated globally, approximately $15 billion went to US-based firms and consultants rather than to developing countries.
Instead of strengthening African-led development efforts, USAID often bypasses them, favouring American organisations and NGOs that operate with their own agendas.
This further erodes Africa’s ability to take charge of its own development. It would be unfair to claim that all American aid has been ineffective. Programmes like Pepfar (President’s Emergency Plan for Aids Relief) have saved millions of lives by providing antiretroviral treatment for HIV-Aids across Africa.
Similarly, USAID has helped fund maternal health programmes and infrastructure projects in various African countries.
However, even these success stories highlight the broader problem—why should Africa still be so dependent on external programmes to tackle its healthcare crises? Decades of reliance on donor-funded initiatives have failed to build self-sustaining African health systems.
If a single policy change in Washington can cripple a life-saving programme, then the system itself is flawed. As economist Dambisa Moyo famously argued in her book Dead Aid, “Aid is not benign—it is malignant.”
She contends that foreign assistance has fostered dependency, stifled local innovation, and discouraged African governments from investing in their own solutions.
The USAID cuts should not be seen as a tragedy; they should be seen as a wake-up call. If America’s interest in Africa has always been conditional, then why should Africa remain dependent on its aid? This moment presents an opportunity for the continent to shift its focus toward self-reliance, regional cooperation, and new partnerships that are more aligned with Africa’s priorities.
African governments must invest in homegrown solutions, from financing mechanisms to infrastructure development, rather than waiting for Western donors to dictate the terms of progress.
The rise of South-South collaborations— whether with China, India, or within Africa itself—provides a viable alternative to the paternalistic aid model that has kept the continent in perpetual dependency. The cutting of USAID funding should serve as a moment of clarity rather than crisis.
The US was never Africa’s saviour; it was always pursuing its own interests. Now that the pretence of benevolence is fading, Africa must seize this moment to forge its own destiny. True development cannot be outsourced.
Africa’s future will not be built on foreign aid but on its own ingenuity, resilience and strategic partnerships that respect its sovereignty.
The real question is: Will Africa finally recognise that America’s concern was never about Africa itself, but about what Africa could do for America? And if so, what will we do differently this time?
Dr Nicholas Okumu is an orthopaedic surgeon and a 2024 Global Surgery Advocacy Fellow
