By Prosper Mene
A serious crisis looms over Nigeria’s healthcare system as a shortage of HIV drugs, triggered by a U.S. foreign aid freeze, threatens millions of lives, particularly women, who bear a disproportionate burden of the disease. The World Health Organization (WHO) sounded the alarm this week, warning that Nigeria is among eight countries 
at risk of exhausting its supply of life-saving antiretroviral (ARV) medicines in the coming months, a fallout from President Donald Trump’s January decision to pause aid funding.
In Nigeria, where nearly two million people live with HIV—ranking it second only to South Africa globally—women account for a significant portion of those affected. Health experts note that women, especially young girls and mothers, are more vulnerable due to social and economic factors, including limited access to education and healthcare. The U.S. President’s Emergency Plan for AIDS Relief (PEPFAR), a cornerstone of Nigeria’s HIV response for over two decades, has been a lifeline, providing ARVs to millions. But with the aid freeze now in its third month, clinics are reporting empty shelves, and patients are being turned away.
“We’re seeing desperation,” said Dr. Amina Yusuf, a public health worker in Abuja. “Mothers come to me begging for drugs to keep their viral loads down—not just for themselves, but to protect their babies. Without these medicines, we’re risking a surge in mother-to-child transmission.”
The WHO estimates that disruptions could lead to over 10 million new HIV cases and three million deaths worldwide, with Nigeria poised to suffer heavily. “This could undo 20 years of progress,” warned WHO Director-General Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus at a press conference on March 18. For Nigeria, where HIV prevalence hovers around 1.9% and women are disproportionately affected, the stakes are dire..
The aid freeze, enacted on Trump’s first day back in office as part of a spending review, has slashed funding to PEPFAR and other programs, leaving Nigeria scrambling for alternatives. While a partial waiver was issued in late January to resume some “life-saving” assistance, confusion persists, and supplies remain stalled. “The waiver is a bandage on a gaping wound,” said Chukwudi Okeke, a Lagos-based health advocate. “We need consistent funding, not stopgap measures.”
Personal stories underscore the crisis. Grace, a 32-year-old single mother from Port Harcourt, told reporters she’s been without her ARVs for two weeks. “I don’t want to die,” she said, echoing fears voiced across the country. Health workers warn that interruptions in treatment could spike viral loads, increase transmission, and foster drug-resistant strains—setting back Nigeria’s fragile gains against the epidemic.
With economic growth offering hope elsewhere, this health emergency casts a shadow over the nation’s progress. The government faces mounting pressure to bridge the gap, but resources are thin. As the clock ticks, Nigerian women and their families hang in the balance, awaiting a resolution that may not come soon enough.
