Africa: Hunger Is Not Inevitable; It Is a Political Choice

Every May 25, World Africa Day invites us to celebrate the vitality, diversity, and potential of a continent that is key to the global future. I was born in Africa, and I know well that this view is true. But I also know that it coexists with another reality that doesn’t always make headlines and that, over time, we risk accepting as inevitable: hunger.

It is not.

The world produces enough food for everyone. That is why, when more than 100 million people in Africa are living in a food crisis—60% of the global total—we are not facing a lack of resources, but a lack of will and a supportive environment. Hunger is not inevitable: it is a political choice.

For me, it is not a number. It is a feeling that affects millions of people: the uncertainty of not knowing when the next meal will come. Today, countries like Nigeria, the Democratic Republic of Congo, and Sudan are home to millions of people facing critical levels of food insecurity. In Nigeria alone, nearly 30 million people struggle every day for something as basic as food.

Sudan today represents the most extreme face of this crisis. Worldwide, there are only three officially declared famines, and two are there. A famine is the final warning, the point at which everything begins to break down: systems, markets, families. That this “red button” has been triggered twice in the same country should shake us far more than it currently does.

Meanwhile, on the ground, life is becoming unbearable. Colleagues I work with in Sudan tell me how families, when there is nothing left, eat weeds or even animal feed to stave off hunger. These are not isolated incidents: they are desperate decisions in contexts where there are no longer any alternatives.

And it’s not just happening in Sudan. In the Sahel—in countries like Mali, Niger, Mauritania, or Senegal—hunger is exacerbated by a combination of crises that feed into one another: droughts, conflicts, and a global economy that drives up food prices just when people can least afford it. What happens thousands of miles away—on trade routes or in international conflicts—ends up emptying the plates in these communities.

The hardest thing to accept is that many of these crises are predictable. There is data, early warning systems, and clear signs months in advance. We know what is going to happen, and yet we fail to act in time. In 2015, the world committed to ending hunger by 2030 as part of the Sustainable Development Goals. Today we know that goal is unattainable. We have not implemented the necessary policies or funding, and in fact, we are moving backward. Last year, barely 20% of the required global humanitarian funding was covered, a situation further exacerbated by drastic cuts such as those in the United States. This forces us to decide which crises are “priorities,” and all too often, Africa is left out.

As an African woman in this sector, it also hurts to see the growing politicization of aid. Reducing basic cooperation and investments for diplomatic reasons destroys decades of progress, while some African governments continue to deny humanitarian needs or restrict access to communities. In the end, it is always the most vulnerable populations who suffer the consequences.

How do you explain all this to a mother in Mali or Niger that her children will continue to go hungry? You can’t. There is no argument that justifies aid arriving too late, when the damage to a child’s development is already irreversible. Or that it never arrives at all.

Faced with this reality, Action Against Hunger does not look the other way. Our teams are where they are needed most. On the front lines: treating children with acute malnutrition in Niger, supporting displaced people in Mauritania, bringing healthcare to isolated communities in Sudan through mobile clinics. It is constant work, often invisible, but absolutely essential.

But it is not enough.

We cannot continue to rely solely on the resilience of African communities. That resilience, which we so often admire, cannot become an excuse for inaction.

We need national and international commitments to translate into real decisions. Into sustained funding. Into policies that protect food, health, and water systems and strengthen communities before they collapse. Because hunger is not inevitable. It is the result of decisions.
And if it is the result of decisions, it is also within our power to change it.