Drought and funding gaps are deepening Somalia’s malnutrition crisis

A father’s last hope to save his children

Kalimow Mohamed Nur had no choice but to take a desperate gamble. With his 7-month-old twin sons weak from hunger, their tiny bodies frail from repeated bouts of vomiting and diarrhea, he borrowed enough money for a single day’s journey to Baidoa—an amount he would take months to earn. The road was long and grueling, and the heat relentless, but the promise of free medical care at the MSF-supported Bay Regional Hospital was his last hope.

“I had to take a loan of about $130 and travel almost 200 miles to Baidoa to find free medical care,” says Kalimow, whose twin sons received treatment for severe acute malnutrition at the Bay Regional Hospital. “They were so small, and we could barely afford enough food. They kept falling ill.”

Kalimow’s story—marked by poverty, distance, and the absence of local services—echoes the harsh realities that prevent countless families from accessing care. In Somalia, lifesaving treatment has turned into a privilege accessible to only a few.

Lack of money prevents people from accessing care

In the busy maternity ward of Galkayo South Hospital, Bishara Abdullahi is recovering after delivering her son by cesarean section. Bishara and her mother Nuro came from Deeqlo, a village near the Somalia-Ethiopia border. “Fear and insecurity in our village have made the newly built health facility inaccessible, leaving us no choice but to travel to Galkayo for help,” Nuro says.

When Bishara and Nuro were traveling to the hospital, they were left stranded on the road because they had no money. By luck, an ambulance later drove by and  gave them a ride the rest of the way. "If that ambulance hadn’t come, I don’t know what would have happened to my daughter," Nuro says. "Sometimes, we have to use camels to transport the sick. There are no proper roads, and ambulances are rare."

Malnutrition has become a year-round crisis in parts of Somalia

In Baidoa and Mudug, malnutrition is not a seasonal challenge, but a persistent, year-round crisis. “We’re seeing high malnutrition rates, not just during the usual lean seasons,” says Jarmilla Kliescikova, MSF medical coordinator in Somalia. “This is a chronic crisis that demands sustained intervention.”

In 2024, MSF teams treated 18,066 children with severe acute malnutrition across its projects in Somalia, a significant increase from the previous year. In Mudug, admissions to outpatient nutrition programs surged by 250 percent, driven by both rising need and expanded outreach efforts. Baidoa also saw a rise in admissions throughout 2024, underscoring the growing desperation of families seeking care. Yet these efforts barely scratch the surface. According to the UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA), an estimated 1.7 million children faced acute malnutrition in 2024, including 430,000 suffering from severe acute malnutrition. MSF’s interventions, while critical, reached only about 1 percent of the total malnourished population, highlighting the overwhelming and vast scale of the crisis and the pressing need for broader support.

Conflicts and climate change have driven massive displacement, forcing people into regions with already scarce resources. Repeated droughts have devastated agriculture, leaving families who once depended on farming and livestock unable to sustain themselves. In displacement camps, the prevalence of severe and moderate malnutrition is alarmingly high, while overstretched health centers struggle to cope.

As Somalia struggles with ongoing dry spells, an even greater threat looms on the horizon: a La Niña-driven drought expected in 2025. La Niña is a climate phenomenon that cools ocean surface temperatures and disrupts global weather patterns, often leading to reduced rainfall in East Africa. With water sources depleted, and food production crippled by previous droughts, the impact could be catastrophic, forcing more families from their homes and driving malnutrition rates even higher. As droughts become more frequent and severe, the window for recovery shrinks, while soaring food prices push survival further out of reach for the most vulnerable.

Funding gaps are forcing critical programs to scale down

Funding shortages have dealt a devastating blow to the humanitarian response, exacerbating the crisis. According to OCHA, in 2022 only 56 percent of Somalia’s humanitarian funding needs were met—a figure that plummeted to just 40 percent by 2024. In Baidoa, for example, several nutrition programs have scaled down since 2023, and across both regions, essential services like therapeutic feeding centers and primary health care are being reduced or discontinued.

“The closure of these programs has left a devastating gap,” says Mohammed Ali Omer, MSF’s head of programs in Somalia. “Children in desperate need of lifesaving therapeutic food are being turned away, and only a few communities benefit from vaccinations, leaving them vulnerable to preventable diseases and leading to a vicious cycle of malnutrition. This is not just a crisis—it’s a catastrophe unfolding in real time.”

The world still has a chance to prevent this looming crisis

Without immediate and sustained support, thousands of children face not only starvation but also weakened immunity, increased vulnerability to diseases, and irreversible developmental harm. Somalia’s health care system, already struggling under relentless demand, risks total collapse as outbreaks and complications surge.  MSF urgently calls on donors and governments to act now—before the 2025 drought strikes. There is an urgent need to scale up nutrition treatment, expand food distribution, and strengthen health care services to save lives while there is still time.

“Humanitarian assistance in Somalia is already dangerously low, and now, with reports of further funding cuts—including reductions in US support—the situation will only worsen, putting more lives at risk,” says Omer. “The cuts to nutrition programs are coming at the worst possible time. Malnutrition rates are soaring, displacement is rising, and the need for aid has never been greater. Reducing support now is not just irresponsible—it’s deadly. The time to act is now. For the children of Baidoa and Mudug, every moment counts in giving them a chance to survive.”