“Overcoming Disruption, Transforming the AIDS Response”

World AIDS Day 2025 finds us at a crossroads. Just as AJAN begins to rise, reimagine its future, and restructure its foundations to stand firm in a fragile and unpredictable world, the ground shifts beneath its feet. Funding for the fight against HIV and AIDS, once steady and life-giving like a river in a dry land, is shrinking and even disappearing in some places. The timing is striking, almost symbolic: at the very moment we are trying to build strength, our external supports weaken.

The consequences spread like cracks across a wall that we want to be sturdy: prevention programs stopped, community efforts struggling to survive, frontline workers pulled away, and treatment disrupted. After decades of progress, it seems as if the wind has shifted, and we need to learn how to sail differently.

I. A moment to stand together, in faith.

Yet, World AIDS Day remains a beacon or a shining light held high. It recalls the memories of those we’ve lost, honors those who live and fight every day, and calls us once again to stand proud, fearless, and free of stigma. The Sustainable Development Goals urge us to end AIDS by 2030, to make health universal, and to open the pharmacy door to every child of God. But when health financing collapses, what happens to this promise? The Psalmist whispers to us: “Blessed are those who consider the weak, the Lord delivers them in times of trouble.” (Ps 41:1) This is not a time to abandon one another. It is a time to demonstrate what true solidarity really means.

II. When global funding declines, something is revealed.

For decades, external donors supported the fight against HIV like pillars beneath a grand cathedral. Their contributions built clinics, sustained research, and provided care that saved millions. But the slowdown, and in some places withdrawal, of funding in 2025 reveals a truth long hidden beneath the comfort of aid: we have relied too heavily on pillars that were not our own.

Earlier in 2025, amid USAID funding cuts impacting HIV programs, Mrs. Antoinette shared a heartfelt testimony of hope and resilience.She spoke with both gratitude and concern: Back in 2023, she received nothing more than three trays of eggs and a small seed from the local Christian Life Community. With AJAN’s help, she built her livelihood by adding juice, water, and groundnuts. Today, she owns two motorbike taxis that employ two young men. Her voice shines when she talks about her restored dignity, living proof that a seed watered by community can grow into a tree.

But she also trembles because 23 women in her group might soon lose access to ARVs. A single cut in funding causes the branch to bend dangerously. Her story is one of hope but also a warning. Progress that relies on foreign aid cannot withstand a long drought.

III. A Call to Transform, Not Collapse

If funding decreases just as Africa aims to undergo structural transformation, then perhaps this moment, though painful, holds the potential for renewal. Africa doesn’t produce all the medicines it needs. It still cannot afford its large-scale treatment programs. Yet, it remains the continent most affected by the virus. So, it’s time to raise our voices and ask boldly and honestly: Can we develop responses that do not collapse when aid dries up? Can we build internal capacity, local resilience, and continental agency? Can we shift from dependence to self-reliance?

When I gaze at AJAN during the recent Annual Assembly in Nairobi, I can confidently say that we can. We carry the power of a living network, the fire of responsibility, and the faith that God has placed Africa’s healing in African hands. This is the moment to invest in prevention, the most affordable and humane response. It is also the moment to strengthen community entrepreneurship, to shape young people in dignity and responsibility, and to create homegrown solutions rooted in the soil beneath our feet. Synodality must guide us here: listening, discerning, acting, not just as recipients, but as co-authors of our future.

IV. Our commitment as Jesuits and partners in mission.

We, the Jesuits and partners in mission in Africa, continue to dream of an Africa without HIV. It is not a distant dream but a horizon we are willing to walk toward. We stand with young people, teaching values that protect life and shaping a culture that chooses responsibility, respect, and dignity. The logic is simple but powerful: when fewer people are infected today, there will be a generation without HIV tomorrow. Prevention is not only cheaper but also wiser.

AJAN and our partners will keep strengthening local capacity, building networks of collaboration, and tackling poverty, stigma, and unemployment, the silent accomplices of the virus. The fight isn’t just medical; it’s social, economic, and spiritual. The response must be equally comprehensive.

Conclusion: When the river shrinks, we dig wells.

The reduction in funding isn’t the end; it’s an invitation to think differently, to build from within, to dare to innovate, and to believe that we are capable of more than just surviving. We reject despair and choose creativity, transformation, and hope. Saint Paul, writing to the Philippians, offers a note of hope: “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” (Phil 4:13) May Christ walk with us as we move toward a continent healed, resilient, and free. May our actions be proof that we believe a world without AIDS is possible, and that Africa will help build it.

By, Rev Fr Josée Minaku, SJ

President, JCAM.