It can take years to build frontline aid organisations from scratch. It may just take a keystroke and an emailed stop-work order to shut some of them down.
Local humanitarian groups are navigating the fallout from the sudden US aid cuts that have caused havoc in longstanding emergencies around the globe.
As big aid groups suspend programmes and start to lay off or furlough staff en masse, the pressure is also growing on grassroots organisations still working in their communities.
“We are scrambling for whatever limited resources that exist now, from food to medical to any lifesaving item,” said Gloria Soma, executive director of the Titi Foundation, a South Sudanese organisation that works with marginalised women.
International assistance has become a right-wing talking point amid US President Donald Trump’s aid freeze and the attempted dismantling of the government aid agency, USAID. Trump and allies like Elon Musk have tried to paint a uniform portrait of aid for a domestic audience: expat workers, Beltway contractors, big spending.
In practice, the aid picture includes local organisations that range from tiny grassroots groups to national NGOs – in many cases, part of the communities they help, and delivering projects partly with funding passed through big aid agencies.
These local NGOs make up more than 80% of the world’s humanitarian organisations, according to a tally by analysis outfit Humanitarian Outcomes.
For many, the US funding freeze is existential: Some have shuttered nearly overnight, too dependent on intermediary funding and with no reserves or other donors to fill the gap.
“We’re really shocked,” said the director of a Somali NGO that receives the majority of its funding from the US, passed down through international aid groups. The director asked not to be named, cautious about worsening the situation.
“It’s really a big wake-up call for the local organisations.”
The NGO’s US-funded programmes for displaced people were suspended immediately as US government stop-work orders came through. After two weeks and counting, the organisation is still waiting for word on elusive humanitarian waivers.
“We never expected such news coming from such a big government, which is really one of the [most] generous donors,” the director said.
These local groups are scrambling to move forward – keenly aware that emergencies are deepening in their backyards, and that help may not be on the way.
A handful have found tenuous bridges to keep programmes going. Most are searching for alternative funding. A few are hard hit but relatively prepared – having taken steps to diversify their financial base after previous funding threats.
For all, it underscores the perils of concentrated funding and a dependence on the international aid system.
“It’s really a big wake-up call for the local organisations,” said Abbas Sheikh, executive director of the Nexus Consortium Somalia, which includes local and international NGOs.
Short-term help
The US funding freeze is a turning point for the wider emergency aid sector, which rapidly expanded over the last decade as humanitarian needs – and donor funding – ballooned.
If today’s funding cuts and freezes are permanent, the international humanitarian sector will be forced to shrink. More than 305 million people are estimated to need humanitarian aid this year.
What will emerge? The coming weeks and months will be a test of the global aid sector’s commitment to locally driven aid.
Government donors primarily send funds through UN agencies, big international NGOs, or private contractors. But frontline aid is also implemented by smaller local organisations, which have for years pushed for equitable treatment and decision-making power.
Some international organisations are trying to help their local partners by shifting funding around – taking money from unrestricted funding provided by other donors, for example.
Mohamed Yarrow, executive director of the Mogadishu-based Centre for Peace and Democracy Africa, suspended programmes immediately after the stop-work orders filtered down in late January.
He was able to restart after an international NGO partner stepped in to meet costs.
“For now, our services are back. It is a stopgap,” Yarrow said. “But it won’t last long.”
Sheikh said some international organisations “are trying to cushion their partners” by tapping their private sources, or dipping into their more flexible but limited buckets of unrestricted funding.
“All that most people can offer is sympathy. When everyone is equally affected, you can’t really expect much help coming your way.”
But for every local organisation he knows that has managed to keep the lights on, there are more that have laid off staff, ended programmes, or simply shut down.
“I think it’s more of an exception than the rule,” Sheikh said, referring to international organisations stepping in to help their local counterparts.
Salai Za Uk Ling was forced to suspend US-funded programmes helping people in western Myanmar’s Chin State, where 280,000 people need aid. He says an international organisation has suggested they could cover some staff costs, but it’s unclear if or when it’ll happen.
Everyone who receives US cash, he said, is in the same boat. UN agencies and multinational NGOs may have more of a cushion than local organisations, but not by much.
“All that most people can offer is sympathy,” said Za Uk Ling, who heads the Chin Human Rights Organization. “When everyone is equally affected, you can’t really expect much help coming your way.”
Searching for solutions
Other typical humanitarian donors – such as non-US governments and philanthropic foundations – have been relatively quiet in the wake of the US aid freezes.
Privately, a handful of foundations are proactively reaching out to see what’s needed and how – or if – they can support, according to several local humanitarian leaders.
“Everybody is in their own cocoon at this point trying to see what’s next.”
“They’ve got in touch with us, interested to know how they can fill some of the gaps that have been left void by the stop-work orders,” Sheikh said.
But it’s a massive hole to fill overnight: The US typically provides 30-40% of multilateral humanitarian funding, and most governments were cutting aid budgets long before Trump took office.
“Everybody is in their own cocoon at this point trying to see what’s next,” Soma said. “It becomes a situation of, ‘You handle you; I’m handling me.’”
For the entire aid sector, the US funding crisis underscores its deep dependence on a few mainly Western government donors.
For local NGOs, it’s a reminder of their own liability: relying on their international counterparts.
“I think we have to think outside the box now,” Sheikh said. “We have been so dependent on the INGOs, and now that things have really gone down, then we have to look for other partners, especially foundations and private institutions, and strengthen our relationship with governments and locally led initiatives.”
This process started a few years ago for Soma’s Titi Foundation.
In 2021 and 2022, the United Kingdom cut its funding for South Sudan, Soma said – part of an ongoing aid slide for what had been one of the world’s top humanitarian donors.
At the time, the Titi Foundation was entirely funded through UN agencies and international NGOs – the same organisations now cutting back because of the US funding freezes.
“We have been so dependent on the INGOs, and now that things have really gone down, then we have to look for other partners.”
Today, she estimates 70% of her budget comes through philanthropic foundations. Her organisation has also experimented with earned revenue, monetising its technical expertise.
The UK’s earlier cuts, she said, were a clear warning.
“We started to move away from the usual culprits of funders, and move to philanthropy,” Soma said.
The US funding freeze still hurts: She’s had to suspend a programme for South Sudanese fleeing the deepening war in Sudan, and she worries how local organisations will absorb the needs left by shuttered international programmes.
But, at least for now, the US cuts aren’t a direct threat to the organisation and its other work.
“The lesson learned from this exercise," Soma said, “is we need to diversify our sources of funding.”
Edited by Andrew Gully.
