Zambians Struggle to Access HIV Medications Amid Aid Cuts

LUSAKA, Zambia — In the wake of U.S. aid cuts that include the suspension and termination of vital global health programs, many Zambians living with HIV face a harsh reality: they’re unable to access life-saving medications. Reports indicate that while U.S. administration officials assert that critical aid has been preserved, firsthand accounts from patients tell a different story.

For more than two months, Mary Mayongana, 42, has been unable to consistently take her HIV medication. She has developed an itchy rash and feels weak without her treatment. “I spend a lot of time thinking about what is likely to become of me, especially that I’m actually seeing myself wasting away,” Mary said. “It’s really weighing me down.”

Conditions have worsened since the closure of U.S.-funded clinics. “She’ll open the tin [where the medicine is kept] and find that it’s empty,” said Theresa Mwanza, 32, who is caring for her daughter, Dorcas, 10. The family depended on the clinic, which provided not just medications but also food to safeguard their health.

After the USAID clinic closed, Theresa tried to get medications from a government-run facility, only to be turned away. “They keep insisting: ‘You need to get direction or guidance from the clinic where you were on where you will go to next,’” she recounted. “But with my neighborhood clinic closed, I’m not sure what to do.”

At the local clinic, where over 2,000 HIV patients previously received treatment, the doors are now locked and the staff have been let go. Symptoms such as fever and chills, common among those who can’t adhere to their treatment regimens, have begun to manifest in Theresa’s daughter, further alarming the family.

Mary Mayongana, confined to a family compound, notes similar challenges. She has an open sore on her ankle and reports feeling increasingly fatigued since the closure of her local clinic. “I have not been able to consistently take my HIV medication. Sometimes I’ve gone up to 14 days without any,” she said, expressing concern over undiagnosed infections and her weakened immunity.

The response from the Zambian government regarding the impact of these cuts has been limited. Brian Chiluba, 56, a house painter who has relied on HIV medications for 15 years, shared, “I feel weakness — weak, weak, weak,” since losing access to his treatment this February. He has lost weight and fears for his future. “I’m going to lose my life, and I will leave my children suffering,” he expressed.

Catherine Mwaloe, 16, is another young person affected. With just a month’s supply of her medication left, she fears that government clinics may now charge for treatments that were once free. “I’ve heard that there are many millions of people going to die,” she said tearfully.

The unnecessary pain and uncertainty have led many families to question their futures. Healthcare providers are overwhelmed in the wake of the U.S. clinic closures, forcing them to ration medication supplies. Many, including Brian and his wife, who also has HIV, continue to struggle to get their records from the shuttered clinics, only to face an uphill battle to access care.

As the situation develops, many Zambians are left to grapple with their realities, seeking solace in community and faith as they attempt to navigate a healthcare system that appears increasingly fragile.