Another year, another group of long-suffering post-graduate students at the London School of Hygiene & Tropical Medicine have been subjected to my prejudices and ramblings on how to advocate effectively for sexual and reproductive health and rights.
I’m always surprised that the LSHTM gives me the privilege of returning to talk about the shifting landscape of funding and how to help assure that it is spent well and to benefit Africa’s future. As I met the Zoom room full of bright, engaged students (many of whom are living the challenges of adequate funding daily in countries such as Uganda, Nigeria, Kenya, and Cameroon) I was struck by how fast the familiar old world of advocacy died, and how urgent it is that we build a new one.
My perspective is shaped by 35 years as a policy and communications consultant working across the continent. I have seen the era of the “Great Man” advocacy, where we simply tried to bend the ear of a US President or a billionaire philanthropist. We look back at those days with rose-tinted glasses: the billionaires and rich-country leaders were fickle and their focus was often on getting recognition or a seat at the top table, not on the real need. Even when they did try to assess the real needs, it was usually through the uninformed eyes of over-priced management consultants whose only knowledge of Africa came from airport VIP lounges. The billionaires were also shockingly bad at effective advocacy for something as obviously cost effective as health spending.
In any case, those days are over. If we want to secure the future of health in Africa, our work to influence policy must evolve to meet a much harsher, more complex fiscal reality.
The Shifting Foundation of Global Health Funding
We have seen a fundamental failure in advocacy around health funding. The data released by the OECD reveals a stark trend: the era of expanding bilateral aid is ending. Total Official Development Assistance (ODA) is contracting, and 96% of that decline is driven by just five donors: Germany, the UK, Japan, France, and most significantly, the USA.
The US alone is responsible for three-quarters of the global decline in health funding. While Germany has technically become the largest provider of ODA for the first time in history, even it is cutting budgets, albeit in an attempt to become more efficient. Meanwhile, traditional multilateral ODA, money flowing to the WHO or the World Food Programme for example, is shrinking less than bilateral grants, but the overall pie is getting smaller.
The good news is that the World Bank and regional development banks such as the African Development Bank (AfDB) are stepping in to fund some health projects. There are questions over “additionality”: are these institutions really funding things that private equity or other lenders to states would not? And there are frequent criticisms that the banks have failed to create funding buckets for innovative models such as low-cost private-sector primary care. However, there are real successes. The AfDB in particular has said loudly and clearly that economic growth depends in large measure on better health and has encouraged governments and funding agencies to invest accordingly.
The Rise of the America First Bilateral Accords
US funding has not disappeared: it has shrunk and mutated into the America First health policy. This administration is moving away from broad global initiatives toward strict bilateral health accords between the US and individual African countries. These are not just funding agreements; they are ideological and strategic contracts that come with significant strings attached.
Under these accords, the US makes a five-year commitment with a clear “exit strategy”: funding is front-loaded but tapers off to zero, forcing national governments to take on “ownership.” While national ownership sounds positive, the requirements are often demanding.
The focus is what you would expect from an administration with an ideological focus derived from Project 2030. It is on maternal and child health (and, yes. The State Department often says that it is the health of children “born and unborn”) and infectious disease.
These accords also require African countries to share pathogen data and specimens with the US within five days of an outbreak. This creates a parallel data mechanism to the WHO and, more importantly, seeks to capture what one of the post-graduate students called, “the new oil.” Africa holds 80% of humanity’s genetic diversity. In an era of genetic medicine, this data is a massive national asset. Several students at LSHTM rightly pointed out that countries like South Africa and Kenya see this as a key resource to be traded for R&D investment, not just given away for a few years of HIV funding. Africa is also developing national health databases that can be used to assess and model the impact of interventions and, as when the continent pioneered payments from mobile phones, it is less encumbered with antiquated existing systems and threatened vested interests.
Most alarmingly to me, these accords are sometimes tied to non-health issues. We’ve seen Zambia refuse to sign because the US tied HIV funding to access to critical minerals and mining data.
One Path Forward: the Accra Reset
The Accra Reset sets out to be a roadmap for this new era. It aims for 55% of health spending to be domestic by 2030, funded in part through “sin taxes” on sugar-sweetened beverages and tobacco. Other means of national funding include surcharges on profitable data transactions and health solidarity funds. Its organisers say that these taxes will raise £750 million in 2026 in six countries alone. I think that’s a high estimate, but there is real money there.
The Accra framework is, though, delusional in thinking that out-of-pocket health can be reduced over the next five years. The AfDB projection is that the private health market in Africa will explode. This is not necessarily bad news for health equity: much of the growth will come in highly efficient fixed-cost private primary care models targeted to working people (although, admittedly, rarely to the bottom of the pyramid or the working poor). These models can be valuable ways to give fast access to innovation and convenient, timely provision of sexual and reproductive health services.
Recommendations for the New Advocate
Given this backdrop, I suggested that these elite advocates do the following.
1. Make Health Explicitly Political
We often hear that health should be non-political. This is a mistake. Non-political subjects are boring and ignored. We need health to be the subject of election campaigns, impassioned debates and social media memes. When health becomes a political must-have, politicians make promises they can be held to. We want people shouting about health in the streets of Accra, Nairobi, and Lagos.
2. Frame Health as a Capital Asset, Not a Cost Centre
We must stop arguing for funding based solely on morality. We need to speak the language of Finance Ministers. According to the World Bank and the AfDB, health is a growth engine.
- ROI Data: For every $1 spent on malaria treatment, the economy gets $35 back. For paediatric immunisation, it’s $20. For SRHR, the returns are less often quantified rigorously but similarly massive because they enable women to enter the workforce and stay productive.
- Preventative Care as Infrastructure: Just as investing in robotics improves productivity, investing in the health of a citizen from birth to age 65 creates a stock of human capital that belongs on a national balance sheet, as the World Bank has now recognised.
3. Build Alliances with FBOs
Faith-Based Organisations (FBOs) provide roughly 30% of healthcare in Africa. The America First plan prioritises them, in part because it plays well to US domestic audiences and, in part, because they are efficient and embedded in communities. While we may disagree with some FBOs on abortion or family planning for unmarried youth, they have incredible national reach. As one student noted, a Pentecostal church in Nigeria aiming for a branch every 15 minutes of walking distance is a more powerful delivery network than any government programme. We must engage them to improve quality and advocate for rights within their frameworks.
4. Harness the Power of Media and Social Media
We can’t forget about media, especially in Africa where so many people are still dependent entirely on TV and local radio and where online and offline newspapers are declining less slowly.
Increasingly, though, we must go where the people are — which is social media. During the lecture, students raised concerns about medical influencers spreading misinformation or misogyny. My response: then we must flood the zone. We need to train responsible influencers. When Joe Fazer, a bodybuilding influencer with about 30 million followers produces content about health equity, he can mobilise a generation we will never reach through traditional policy papers.
Overall, we are in a time of great opportunity and serious danger. The transition from aid to co-investment is the only way to escape the whims of Washington or Berlin. We must be like the “trained revolutionaries” Lenin spoke of — professionals who know how to stir up movements and demand that our governments prioritise health not because a donor asked them to, but because their own citizens demand it.
