Yemen’s Silent Crisis: Aid Cuts Leave Millions Vulnerable to Preventable Deaths
As U.S. foreign aid dwindles, the devastating consequences are acutely felt in places like Al Kawd, Yemen, where a 13-year-old girl’s access to life-saving medication hangs in the balance. In the cramped examination room of a tiny village clinic, Rania Moussa covers her eyes, her slight frame belying her age. Days have passed since she received an injection of antibiotics needed to manage her anemia, but the clinic, once a reliable source of free treatment, now has nothing to offer. Aid cuts, stemming from the U.S. freezing assistance last year, mean replenishing supplies is unlikely anytime soon. “She can’t walk; she can barely move. I had to carry her here,” says Rania’s mother, Jamilah Omar. “We could get the shots before, but now none of the clinics have them, so I have to buy them from pharmacies. We can barely afford food, let alone medications.”
The situation in Al Kawd is a microcosm of a wider crisis unfolding across Yemen and beyond, triggered by a dramatic rollback of U.S. assistance under the Trump administration. The dismantling of the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID), spearheaded by Elon Musk’s Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), has sparked political debate over cost savings, but the human cost is becoming increasingly clear. Remnants of USAID signage remain on the facade of the Ronald Reagan Building and International Trade Center in Washington, D.C., a stark reminder of a diminished commitment.
“You feel helpless,” says Areeda Fadhli, the 53-year-old medical assistant managing the Al Kawd clinic, as she looks at Rania’s face. “Imagine your son, your daughter, fading in front of you. How do you think that feels?” The clinic is operating on its last shipment of medical supplies, received more than nine months ago, stretched as far as possible to meet the growing needs of the community.
The contractions in Yemen reflect a broader trend. In 2025, the U.S. pledged $3.4 billion in global aid, a fraction of the $14.1 billion allocated under President Biden. Further cuts followed, with the Trump administration announcing $2 billion for U.N. programs in 17 countries in 2026, pointedly excluding both Afghanistan and Yemen. Other wealthy nations are also reducing their humanitarian budgets: Germany has halved its aid, France plans a nearly 40% reduction, and the U.K. is shrinking aid expenditures to 0.3% of its gross national income by 2027.
The justifications for these cuts have varied. President Trump alleged “billions and billions of dollars in waste, fraud and abuse,” while DOGE officials touted cost savings. Secretary of State Marco Rubio argued that USAID did not serve, and sometimes harmed, the “core national interests of the United States.” However, administration officials offered no evidence of widespread corruption, and some claims of waste proved inaccurate, such as the assertion that $100 million was spent on condoms for Hamas in Gaza. Observers note that foreign development assistance accounted for less than 1% of the federal budget even during the Biden administration.
The impact on Yemen has been particularly severe. U.S. funding for the country was slashed from $768 million in 2024 – half of its humanitarian response budget – to just $42.5 million last year. The U.N. reports that 453 health facilities across Yemen face partial or imminent closure, including hospitals, primary health centers, and mobile clinics. A study published by The Lancet in July estimated that these USAID cuts could result in 14 million preventable deaths worldwide by 2030, based on the agency’s past successes in areas like food security, HIV treatment, and medical care.
Yemen, already ravaged by a calamitous civil war that began in 2014, is no stranger to tragedy. While the situation has stabilized somewhat, 19.5 million people – nearly half the population – still require humanitarian assistance, with the majority facing food insecurity. This number is expected to rise to 21 million in 2025, exacerbated by the Trump administration’s 2025 designation of the Houthi rebels as a foreign terrorist organization. This designation, humanitarians say, effectively outlaws aid deliveries to areas under Houthi control, where 70% of the population resides. Simultaneously, the Houthis have detained 73 U.N. staff members and seized equipment, hindering the U.N.’s ability to operate.
“You have the perturbations of the conflict and increased humanitarian needs at the same time as a challenging funding environment constrained the delivery environment,” explains Julien Harneis, the U.N.’s resident coordinator in Yemen. “So all the conditions are coming together for a very difficult year.”
Aid organizations that once relied on U.S. funding are scrambling to preserve their operations. One aid worker, speaking anonymously for fear of jeopardizing remaining assistance, said his organization had shut down one of its two offices, laid off 250 of 300 employees, and suspended support to dozens of health centers. Their portfolio has shrunk from $32 million to just $2 million. “Yes, we have other donors from Europe and Canada, but it doesn’t equal even 5% of what the Americans would give,” he said. Some organizations are attempting to tailor proposals to align with Washington’s regional priorities, such as countering Iran and Al Qaeda, and avoiding language deemed unacceptable by the current administration. “Anything focusing on gender, feminism, or LGBT protection: A statement with any of those concepts wouldn’t get sign-off,” he revealed.
The decline is stark when compared to just a year ago. In January of last year, Fadhli was preparing to extend the Al Kawd clinic’s operating hours from 12 to 24. Three doctors – an OB-GYN specialist and two general practitioners – made the 52-mile journey from Aden to treat approximately 300 patients daily. Local women were employed as medical assistants, receiving $100 a month and training. The clinic had enough basic medications for three months and funding for specialized treatments.
Now, Dr. Umayma Jamil, the 37-year-old OB-GYN specialist and the clinic’s last remaining physician, visits only once a week, paid from whatever funds can be secured. “People come here because they have no money, but before we could offer them solutions to their problems,” she says. Now, she diagnoses and prescribes medication, only to see patients return with the same complaints. “I ask them, ‘Did you get medicine?’ And they say they can’t because there’s no money,” Jamil said. “It’s natural to be frustrated, but I don’t know what to do. It’s not in my hands.”
The effects extend beyond small clinics to major institutions like Al-Razi, the main hospital in Abyan province, serving over 30,000 people annually. Dr. Muhsen Abdullah, the head of the emergency room, describes a ward lacking surgical thread, stitches, and even basic supplies like iodine and rubbing alcohol, forcing patients to purchase them before surgery. Some postpone procedures altogether due to the cost of postoperative care. The hospital’s equipment is also deteriorating, with a non-functioning X-ray machine and a broken sterilization unit.
With limited budgets, detecting and responding to epidemics is increasingly difficult. “Now we have no reports. Zero,” the aid worker said. Cholera cases, while appearing lower than last year, are likely significantly underreported due to a lack of testing kits. In Al Kawd, Fadhli and Jamil have already detected a few cases of cholera, fearing a repeat of last year’s outbreak that killed dozens of children.
Harneis predicts an increase in epidemics, mortality, and morbidity, particularly among young children. “Children are dying, and more children will die later this year,” he warns. “Epidemics don’t stop at the border.” The U.S. withdrawal from the World Health Organization this month has further compounded the risks, according to the organization.
While some acknowledge USAID wasn’t perfect, many in the aid community lament the rollback of decades of work. One observer likened it to the U.S. withdrawal from Afghanistan, leaving a void for others to fill. “OK, you could say USAID was unsustainable, but there’s an argument to be made you shouldn’t close the tap completely,” the aid worker said. “With this move, you’ve destroyed the work of decades.”
Related reading
