A woman checks on her malnourished child at Banadir Hospital in Mogadishu, Somalia, on Wednesday, May 14, 2025. (AP Photo/Farah Abdi Warsameh)
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MOGADISHU, Somalia — The sounds that echo through the wards of Banadir Hospital are heart-wrenching. Cries of children wracked with malnutrition resonate like a haunting melody of despair. Among them is 1-year-old Maka’il Mohamed, whose tiny body struggles for breath as doctors press against his frail chest in a desperate bid to sustain life.
His father, Mohamed Ma’ow, arrived at the hospital in dire need, but tragically, too late. In those agonizing moments when the doctor delivered the catastrophic news, the question hung in the air, laden with disbelief: “Are you certain? Did he really die?” Mohamed’s voice trembled, mirroring the shock that reverberated in his heart.
The heartbreaking reality of Maka’il’s story is far from unique. It mirrors the anguish of countless Somali families grappling with food insecurity. The demise of a single child might seem like just another statistic, but as the numbers rise, so too does the pain felt by those left behind. With U.S. support significantly dwindling under the Trump administration, the situation is rapidly turning grim. Millions of dollars in humanitarian aid that once flowed like a lifeline are now evaporating, and the ramifications are profound.
“In an already fragile health system, the loss of funding has catastrophic implications,” warns Dr. Abdiqani Sheikh Omar, a former health ministry director. This observation underscores the core of the crisis—Somalia’s health infrastructure has been precariously balanced on foreign aid, with the U.S. Agency for International Development historically providing 65% of Somalia’s foreign aid. Now, as funding streams dry up, dozens of vital centers aimed at combating hunger are shuttering their doors. One grim statistic reveals that Save the Children anticipates that 55,000 children will be at risk by June, attributed to the imminent closure of 121 nutrition centers.
Why do we find ourselves at this juncture? Somalia has long been vulnerable to devastating food insecurity, primarily due to climate shocks like drought. However, the convergence of these factors with the withdrawal of international aid has led many to fear unprecedented suffering. Former Somali Foreign Minister Ahmed Moalin recently noted that USAID provided $1 billion to Somalia in fiscal 2023, with expectations set on similar funding for the current year. Yet now, with significant cuts looming, the reality is starkly different.
The U.S. State Department asserts that lifesaving programs do continue, citing ongoing humanitarian assistance efforts. “We’re working diligently to ensure that vital programs remain intact,” a spokesperson informed the Associated Press. Yet doubts linger. Aid workers express concerns that the U.S. has not been transparent about which programs qualify as lifesaving, nor do they know if the remaining funds will sustain these efforts for long.
As the situation unfolds, the consequences are felt acutely by 4.6 million people in Somalia projected to face severe hunger by June, an increase exacerbated by the aid cuts. Both rural communities and urban shelters in Mogadishu are strained. Over 800,000 internally displaced persons have sought refuge in makeshift camps peppered throughout the city. Yet now, many of the feeding centers that once offered hope are fading into memories.
Residents of Mogadishu report increased hardship, and among them is Mohamed Ma’ow. His struggle as a tailor has left his family of six without consistent access to even three meals a day. His wife faced the heartbreaking reality that she lacked breast milk for Maka’il, contributing to a cycle of malnutrition that spiraled out of control during repeated hospital visits. Doctors confirm that malnutrition was the critical factor in Maka’il’s tragedy.
The nutrition center at Banadir Hospital, which had been a beacon of support for the Ma’ow family, is run by Alight Africa, a local partner affiliated with UNICEF. Tragically, it too has fallen victim to the funding drought. “The funding cuts have left us unable to provide lifesaving support,” Simon Karanja, a UNICEF official, lamented, noting that 15% of Somali children are acutely malnourished at this very moment.
Meanwhile, Abdullahi Hassan, a worker with Alight Africa, confirmed that nutrition centers across the district are closing rapidly. “The closures have tragically led to the deaths of some children,” said Said Abdullahi Hassan, a project supervisor. Such words echo like an alarm bell, urging us to confront the stark reality many families face. Without the food assistance that was once a lifeline, parents are left helpless, watching their children waste away.
In April and May alone, over 500 malnourished children were admitted to Banadir Hospital’s center, a number that typically surges in response to crises like drought or famine—but now, this upsurge feels unprecedented. Dr. Mohamed Jama, who oversees the center, reflects on these dire circumstances: “The funding gap has impacted not only the malnourished but also health staff, whose salaries have been cut.” This dual impact creates a vicious cycle of hopelessness.
Fadumo Ali Adawe, a mother of five, voiced her own urgent plight as she appealed for help for her 3-year-old daughter, who has remained malnourished for nine long months. “We are unsure of what to do next,” she confessed, her voice cracking under the weight of uncertainty. The once-bustling nutrition center that had provided her with some solace now lies empty, its walls still adorned with USAID posters—a bittersweet reminder of the uncertain future that lies ahead.
As we navigate through this complex scenario of humanitarian crisis and diminishing support, the question becomes clear: How can we mobilize our collective response to prevent more tragedies like Maka’il’s from occurring? Each life lost sends ripples into the community, deepening the scars of hardship. It’s a moment for reflection—as we stand witness to these unfolding events, we must ask ourselves: What can be done? Who is responsible for safeguarding the future of these vulnerable children?
As the slogans for action resound, we are called not just to observe but to engage. In the face of suffering, we can choose empathy. In the face of despair, we can choose action.
Edited By Ali Musa
Axadle Times International – Monitoring.
