The Weeping Free World
You know, I keep thinking back to those warnings we were shouting before Trump got re-elected in 2024. We were trying to tell the free world: get ready, things are about to change, isolationism is coming. Nobody really paid attention. Then Biden’s years rolled by like this weird calm period, almost a gift of stability, and we all just relaxed, didn’t we? We didn’t build anything lasting or strong enough to weather what’s happening now.
Trump comes back, and boom!, on his first day in January 2025, he signs that executive order freezing all foreign aid for a 90 day review. It turns into the full dissolution of USAID, billions slashed, programs gutted. Africa feels it hardest. Food aid stops flowing, refugee kitchens shut down, cholera surges in places like the DRC because water and sanitation efforts collapse. And malaria? It’s coming back with a vengeance. Bed nets aren’t being distributed like before, seasonal prevention campaigns are off track, clinics are running out of tests and treatments in Uganda, Kenya, Nigeria, Tanzania. Kids who were protected are getting sick again at levels we thought we had left behind. Preventable cases and deaths are piling up quietly, while the world argues about other things.
Then there’s the hypocrisy that just burns. Governments like Uganda’s passed brutal anti-gay laws in 2023; life sentences, even death penalty clauses in some cases while quietly taking in massive USAID money, over a billion dollars a year at points, to prop up their regimes. They funneled those funds into security forces that cracked down on dissent, harassed LGBT communities, beat protesters, silenced critics. Western donors preached human rights but looked the other way to keep influence. Now the money’s gone, and those same leaders are scrambling, but the harm’s already deep.
The people suffering most are the thousands of LGBT refugees trapped in camps and safe houses. In Kenya’s Kakuma camp, estimates put 1,000 to 5,000 queer asylum seekers there, trying to stay invisible to survive. USAID funding kept food rations coming, HIV meds flowing, some basic protection in place. That’s vanished. Rations slashed, sometimes to nothing for days. Safe houses in Nairobi are packed, hundreds showing up monthly, floors full, no medicine, no rent money. Stories of arson on shelters, assaults, evictions because landlords refuse “those people.” In South Sudan’s settlements, queer refugees get turned away from food lines, pushed into survival sex work. Trump’s refugee cap for 2026 is tiny, 7,500 total, so escape isn’t happening. They are stuck, hungry, sick, scared, and it feels like the world has decided they are expendable. But like I have always said, you will never look into the face of a human being whom God does not love, no matter what!
Meanwhile, the rest of the West is adapting fast, making their own moves. California’s governor basically thumbs his nose at the federal WHO pullout and joins the global outbreak network himself to keep tracking diseases. Keir Starmer heads to China with a bunch of business leaders, the first UK PM there in years to shore up trade because nobody wants to rely on unpredictable U.S. policy. France and Germany are building defenses, new economic ties, talking openly about a future less tied to Washington. They’re looking out for themselves.
And Africa? We’re just sidelined. All that work we put into peace camps, alliances, youth programs, like Crossing Lines Africa’s first one in Arusha, it’s fading away. Partners who used to respond quickly now disappear for months. Our name lingers on some donation pages like forgotten bookmarks. The West is tired; ICE crackdowns at home, border fights, trade wars, China rising. They have switched to pure self-preservation.
But Obama said something that sticks with me: when the other side makes it clear they are not following any rules anymore, you have to stand up for yourself. You can’t keep waiting.
America’s real power always came from those progressive alliances with the free world, not from walls and isolation. That has shifted hard now. China and Russia are stepping into the gaps. For us in Africa, this cold aid time is not just numbers on a budget, it’s famine edging closer, malaria spiking, queer kids dying quietly in camps, whole generations losing chances.
Maybe the harsh upside is we stop waiting for rescue. We have to wage peace like others wage war: relentlessly, strategically, on our own terms. Build our networks, our resilience, our path forward. The warnings were not heard, the support we counted on turned away. Now it is up to us to shape what’s next. World with no tender ties.
A Call to Renewed Charity, Compassion, and Faith
The West’s recent pullback from longstanding aid commitments has brought real and immediate hardship to communities across Africa. Reduced funding and disrupted flows have worsened outbreaks of preventable diseases like cholera and malaria, strained already fragile health systems, and left refugee camps struggling with hunger, limited medical care, and heightened vulnerability. In places like displacement settings in Kenya and beyond, people already facing violence, evictions, and survival pressures have seen essential rations, HIV medications, and basic protections vanish, turning daily life into a battle for dignity and survival. These are not distant statistics but urgent human costs; children at risk of needless illness, families without food security, and individuals enduring isolation and danger felt most deeply by those on the ground.
From a perspective of charity and compassion, such withdrawals represent a profound moral and spiritual challenge. Scripture repeatedly calls believers to open hands and hearts to the needy: “Whoever is kind to the needy honors God” (Proverbs 14:31), and “Defend the weak and the fatherless; uphold the cause of the poor and the oppressed” (Psalm 82:3). Jesus identifies so closely with the vulnerable that caring for them is caring for Him: “Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me” (Matthew 25:40). Ignoring the cry of the poor brings its own consequences; “If a man shuts his ears to the cry of the poor, he too will cry out and not be answered” (Proverbs 21:13) while generosity reflects God’s own heart for justice, mercy, and love without borders.
Africa’s spirituality deepens this call. Rooted in a holistic awareness of the sacred in everyday life, communal harmony, reverence for creation and ancestors, and an integration of faith with healing, justice, and relationships, it offers a vibrant gift to the global church. Early African Christian thinkers like Augustine shaped core doctrines of grace and community that still inform Western traditions. Today, African expressions of Christianity through dynamic worship, music, dance, prayer for healing, and active reliance on the Holy Spirit.model a living, embodied faith that addresses the whole person amid hardship. Diaspora communities and “reverse mission” efforts bring renewal to Western churches, reminding believers of Christianity’s relational, communal roots and the power of faith to sustain hope in suffering.
Abandoning these partnerships risks spiritual backsliding for the West. It severs ties to a source that has repeatedly enriched and renewed Christian traditions, from patristic contributions to contemporary revivals and distances the church from modeling the holistic discipleship Scripture envisions. Stepping back means turning from opportunities to live out charity in tangible ways: supporting life saving health initiatives, sustaining refugee care, and partnering in community development that honors human dignity.
The way forward lies in renewed, genuine partnership grounded in faith and charity not as imposition, but as mutual sharing. Western churches, organizations, and individuals can contribute through direct support, fair collaborations, and investments in health, education, and sustainable livelihoods that respect African leadership and agency. African communities, rich in resilience and spiritual depth, continue to lead in setting priorities; external partners should engage as co laborers in compassion.
By recommitting to acts of charity that reflect Christ’s love open-handed, borderless, and attentive to the least, we honor God, alleviate real suffering, and receive the spiritual gifts Africa offers. The alternative.continued drift from these responsibilities, diminishes our shared witness and misses the blessings promised to those who care for the needy. Let us invest in compassionate connection now, so that faith may flourish, hope may endure, and God’s love may be known more fully across continents.
Read more about the author here: Philip Kakungulu
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