While aid has saved lives–providing antiretroviral therapy for 1.4 million Ugandans living with HIV, supporting maternal health programmes, and funding electricity connections in hard-to-reach communities–it has also perpetuated a system where the Ugandan government remains unaccountable to its own citizens.
It is difficult to be hopeful when history offers little evidence that Uganda’s governance and accountability structures will improve under pressure. If anything, past crises have shown that when resources tighten, those in power double down on extraction rather than reform.
But for the sake of argument–and perhaps a bit of reckless optimism–let’s entertain the idea that this aid freeze might, against all odds, be a turning point for Uganda.
Uganda’s reliance on foreign aid has long been both its lifeline and its curse. For decades, the United States has injected hundreds of millions of dollars into the country’s healthcare system, infrastructure, and governance programs.
Yet this dependency has created a paradox of abundance and scarcity–a government that receives billions in external assistance while failing to provide basic services for its people.
The recent announcement by the United States to freeze all foreign aid for at least 90 days has triggered a financial and existential crisis, one that lays bare the fragility of Uganda’s economic and political systems.
More than just a temporary suspension, this decision forces a deeper reckoning with a question that has loomed over African nations since independence: can they–and should they–survive without foreign assistance?
The pause on aid exposes the inherent contradictions of the foreign assistance model. While aid has saved lives–providing antiretroviral therapy for 1.4 million Ugandans living with HIV, supporting maternal health programmes, and funding electricity connections in hard-to-reach communities–it has also perpetuated a system where the Ugandan government remains unaccountable to its own citizens.
The state has grown accustomed to passing the burden of healthcare, social services, and economic development to international donors while channeling domestic revenues into patronage networks, security forces, and vanity projects that do little to improve the welfare of ordinary citizens.
This freeze should thus be framed as a wake-up call for Uganda and other African nations that have built their governance models around foreign largesse.
As Dambisa Moyo argues in Dead Aid: Why Aid Is Not Working and How There Is Another Way for Africa, Africa has become addicted to these external inflows, much like a patient dependent on a life-support machine, unable to breathe on its own.
The more aid a country receives, the less incentive it has to build institutions that can generate and manage domestic resources. Uganda exemplifies this trend: despite receiving billions in aid over the decades, its public services remain woefully inadequate, and its infrastructure development projects are riddled with inefficiencies and corruption.
The irony is glaring–while foreign governments foot the bill for life-saving medicines, Uganda’s political elite indulges in luxury vehicles, overseas trips, and opulent state functions.
This moment also presents an opportunity for Uganda to chart a new course–one that prioritizes self-reliance over perpetual dependence. In the short term, the consequences will be painful. Uganda’s healthcare system, which relies heavily on US support, will be among the hardest hit.
Programmes providing HIV/AIDS treatment, malaria prevention, and maternal healthcare could face devastating disruptions, putting millions of lives at risk. Infrastructure projects backed by USAID may come to a standstill, exacerbating economic stagnation.
Yet these immediate hardships should not overshadow the long-term imperative: Uganda must build a system that can sustain itself without foreign intervention.
The reality is not that Uganda lacks resources, but that it lacks the political will to allocate them where they are most needed. The aid freeze should serve as a catalyst for budgetary reform and force the government to reallocate funds toward critical sectors such as healthcare, education, and infrastructure.
Across Africa, countries must confront the uncomfortable truth that foreign aid has, in many cases, done more harm than good. While it has provided immediate relief, it has also undermined long-term development by fostering dependency and enabling corruption.
The continent cannot continue to rely on external assistance while simultaneously decrying neocolonialism. True sovereignty requires the ability to stand on one’s own, to fund one’s own development, and to take responsibility for one’s own future.
Dambisa Moyo writes, “Africa is addicted to aid. For the past sixty years, it has been fed aid. Like any addict, it needs and depends on its regular fix, finding it hard, if not impossible, to contemplate existence in an aid-less world.”
The truth of this statement is evident in Uganda’s response to the US aid freeze. Yet addiction is not destiny. This crisis, if handled wisely, could mark the beginning of a new era–one in which Uganda, and Africa as a whole, finally takes control of its own fate.
