Reduced Rations: How Budget Cuts by Donors Threaten Lives in Kakuma Refugee Camp

Kakuma Refugee Camp is home to more than 200,000 people who fled conflict torn states like South Sudan, Somalia, Burundi and the Democratic Republic of Congo. For many years, this vast settlement in northwestern Kenya has stood as a symbol of both endurance and neglect, with people trying to rebuild their lives amid severe hardship. For basic necessities, they used to depend on international aid, but funding cuts have made things worse this year.

When President Donald Trump assumed office for his second term in January, he started dismantling the US Agency for International Development (USAID) as part of his agenda of putting "America first". Other major donor governments such as Germany, Canada and Britain have reduced their aid budgets too.

The drastic budget cuts have pushed the Kakuma Refugee Camp into a humanitarian crisis. Residents say it is worse than anything they experienced here in recent years. Water supply has been reduced, which is especially harsh given that the surrounding Turkana County is the hottest part of Kenya. Food aid is dwindling, cash support has been slashed, and refugees have been told to pay school fees for their children.

The consequences of these budget cuts are far reaching. Families fear for their safety. Especially jobless young people are getting desperate. For many, these cuts threaten their livelihoods and dim the hopes of finally calling Kakuma ‘a real home’. Petty crime is on the rise. The World Food Program (WFP) and the UN Refugee Agency (UNHCR), the main agencies supporting Kakuma, warn that they can no longer maintain the levels of assistance previously provided. Both multilateral organizations depend on funding from donor governments. The USA alone used to provide around 70% of the funding for WFP operations in the camp.

The Nairobi Office of the WFP reports that rations had to be cut to about one third of the minimum food basket in May 2025. It later introduced a system of “differentiated assistance”, according to which the most needy group of refugees got rations that covered 60 %, while the least needy group got nothing. The WFP reports that the situation has improved somewhat due to new funding, and expresses the hope that rations can be further increased in the future.

 In August, the New Humanitarian, a Geneva-based website, estimated that two thirds of the households in Kakuma got only one meal or less per day, with average calorie intake likely falling below 1,650 kilocalories per person per day. That is close to the minimum amount an adult needs, though many adults need more to stay healthy.

Humanitarian services were always stretched in Kenya, and the situation is becoming increasingly difficult for the host country. The national government continues to offer security and administrative support in Kakuma, but it lacks the financial capacity to compensate for declining external funding.

An interpreter’s dashed hopes

Residents report that the situation in the Camp is rapidly deteriorating. Dominic Longolol feels the impacts directly. “First, the water was reduced,” he says. “Then the monthly cash support known as Bamba Chakula was cut. Now they have told us to pay school fees. Everything is becoming impossible.”

Longolol is from South Sudan and has spent eight years in Kakuma. He used to work for the Kenya Red Cross as an interpreter and aid worker, but lost his job due to the budget cuts.

In his eyes, the worst challenge is the new system of inequitable food distribution. His family does not get any food assistance at all anymore.

According to the WFP’s Nairobi Office the new differentiated distribution system has four categories:

• Households are considered “vulnerable” if they are headed by children, by elderly persons, by persons with disabilities or have high dependency ratios for other reasons. This group accounts for about 29 % of Kakuma households.
•  Category 2 consists of households with limited ability to meet basic needs that do not fall in category one but still have high dependency ratios and limited income. This applies to 40 % of households.
• “Partially self-reliant” households constitute category 3, with one or two members being engaged in employment or livelihood activities(16 %)
• “Self-reliant households” are deemed to have sufficient income to be able to meet more than their basic needs. They include traders, business owners and those who have voluntarily opted out of humanitarian assistance (4%)

Another 11 % of households have not been categorised, according to the WFP. Unaccompanied children can fall in Group 1 or 2.

The system is unfair, according to Dominic Longolol. His family is in Group 4, even though he has lost his job. He says: “No one explained the criteria, we just woke up one day and were told we belong to a certain category.” The lack of transparency has led to confusion, frustration and aggressive behavior. There have been occasional clashes with UNHCR staff as well as among the refugee communities themselves. People who used to share supplies with others are now afraid to do so, fearing they may lose their own access to food. Hunger and fear are resulting in quarrels, theft and stealing, he reports.

He now plans to return to South Sudan and search for a job in the strife-torn country. He hopes he will be able to send his wife money so she can take better care of the children in Kakuma. For the time being, they depend on support from his mother who was lucky enough to fall into Group 2 as an elderly person. She now shares her rations with the family, and all of them suffer need.

A healthcare volunteer’s experience

Susan Adit works as a healthcare volunteer in several clinics in the refugee camp. They are all under serious financial pressure, precisely at a time when they are registering increased caseloads. Malnutrition, inadequate water supply and poor hygiene are causing preventable illnesses, Adit says, and other stress-related conditions are worsening too. The child feeding program is collapsing, she adds. Previously children used to receive peanuts and milk to boost their intake of nutrients.

Adit is also irritated by the impact of the budget cuts on the education system. According to her, education was considered one of Kakuma’s most important assets. She is from a South Sudanese family, grew up in the Camp and is proud of her Community Health diploma which she acquired in the camp. Like her, she says, every refugee had hopes of improving his or her status through education. But with donor funding shrinking, the education system is starting to shift costs onto families.

“I have younger siblings and we were told that every parent must now pay a contribution,” she explains. “My parents cannot pay and I cannot help because I do not have a paid job.” Thanks to being categorized as group 1, they still get food aid.

Adit expects the dropout rates in Kakuma to worsen. Education outcomes had been improving for years in the camp, but this trend is set to be reversed. That is a disaster, she says, since helping refugees get an education is not simply charity, but part of a long-term strategy. People need skills and knowledge in order to take their fates into their own hands and eventually contribute to the reconstruction of their home country, once life there becomes safe again. “If we stop educating them now,” she says, “the negative effects will harm an entire generation.”

A shopkeeper’s perspective

Lucy Peter is another refugee from South Sudan. She runs a shop in the camp, selling different commodities from food to clothing. The single mother of four belongs to Group 4 and receives no food assistance anymore. She can barely support herself and the kids, but acknowledges that business has been quite slow this year.

She sometimes gives members of her community food and water on loan, she recounts. Sometimes they pay her back, sometimes they do not. She does not blame them for failures because of the current situation in the camp. According to Peter, there was never much cash flow, but contracts with the the WFP to provide food items in return for food vouchers were helpful. The cuts have made everything more difficult.

She adds that, across the camp, youths are bearing the brunt of the crisis. “They want to help their families, but there are no jobs.” Some look for casual work outside the camp, where even the host community lacks employment opportunities.

For people in Kakuma, the situation is becoming more and more challenging. Some of the residents wait for food, water and some kind of reassurance that the world has not forgotten them. A growing number, however, is becoming so desperate that they are willing to return to their home countries where recurring eruptions of violence can fast put their lives at risk. Many young people, moreover, dream of finding their way to a prosperous EU country and enjoy a more comfortable life there.

Alba Nakuwa is a freelance journalist from South Sudan based in Nairobi, Kenya. She grew up in Kakuma.