DAR ES SALAAM, February 7 (IPS) -Mariam MSEMWA at 9 am on Monday, lined up in the HIV clinic of the Bagamoyo District Hospital in the Tanzanian coastal area and fixed the clinic card firmly. The 19 -year -old boy has been here many times before, and he picked up a monthly dose of anti -retro virus (ARV) drugs that made her alive. But when she arrived at the counter, the nurse told her flat. “There is no free drug anymore,” she said. “You have to buy it yourself.”
MSEMWA felt a word like a punch in the chest. Would you like to buy? What? Her mother, a street vegetable hoker, could hardly afford the next meal. ARVS has always been provided by the US funding program. But now that life line has disappeared.
MSEMWA said, “I don’t know what to do. “Without this medicine, I will die.”
Lifeline
For many years, Tanzania’s fight with HIV has relied heavily on the emergency plan of President PEPAR, an American initiative that injects more than $ 110 billion in fighting HIV/AIDS around 2003. I supported all the funds. Test, community volunteer activities and family -based treatment.
But in early 2025, when Donald Trump returned to the White House, the administrative order freezed all new foreign aid spending. In a few days, the annual PEPFAR fund for Tanzania has disappeared $ 450 million, reducing free ARVs for about 1.2 million Tanzanians.

Catherine Joachim, executive director of Tanzania Aids (Tacaids), spent a few weeks at an enthusiastic meeting, and her phone calls from anxious health officials.
“This is a serious blow to the complete collapse of our HIV reaction,” she said. “For almost 20 years, PEPFAR has made people alive. Now they will probably suffer. ”
Nakjin was immediately. The clinic that once provided free ARVs has fallen. The home -based treatment program has been closed. And nationwide patients came back because there was no place to go.
Abdallah Suleiman said by Abdallah Suleiman, a treatment literacy trainer for those living in HIV in the historic village Bagamoyo village. “She was begging a few pills for her son in ARV after birth. I had nothing to give her. naught.”
The end of free treatment
At the MBEZI Bus Terminal of Dar Es Salaam, Helena Mkwasi stands on a boiling water pot at noon and stirs the corn powder with thick and stiff stiffness. When she moves quickly, she smokes around her, and balances the needs of a small food stable and anxiety that never leaves her.
“I got up early, lighted up the fire and ran to the meat, cooking oil, and tomato market. That day, I had to adjust the colorful Cannes that surround my waist.The business is slow as usual. It is enough for fraud.
But nowadays money is not her biggest concern.
“For many years, I’m receiving ARV for free,” she said. “Now they say they have stopped. I don’t know how to survive.”
MKWASI was diagnosed with HIV at the age of 19. She doesn’t remember much from that day. When the nurse describes the virus load and the number of CD4, I remember only how her heart is pounding. She thought it was a sentence sentence. Then she started anti -retro virus therapy and the medicine was effective. Her health has been improved. She was safe to the children. She has made everyday life. We used ugali, provided customers with services, and took medicine every evening.
“If you don’t have medicine, you’ll get sick again. I will not work.” “Then what’s my child?”
The bus terminal wings around her. The conductors shout their destinations, and the man squeezes the traffic that sells bananas and bottled water, and smells the baked meat and diesel smoke. MKWASI keeps stir in the forehead and sweat. But the weight of uncertainty remains.
Worsening
The number has drawn dark pictures. Without ARV, HIV -positive individuals are risk of developing complete AIDS, so they are vulnerable to fatal infections such as tuberculosis and pneumonia. Health experts warned that Tanzania could see more than 30,000 additional HIV -related deaths for the next two years if the crisis was not resolved.
Deogratius Rutatwa, who lives with HIV/AIDS, looked at an endless report that describes in detail the situation of sitting at the desk. In his last phone, his warm call continued to ring.
“This is a disaster,” he rubbed the temple. “PEPFAR doesn’t just donate medicine, but supports funds for education, prevention and community support. Now everything is gone. ”
His letter of letter was flooded with a desperate message of community groups. What do we do now? They asked. But Rutatwa had no answer.
“I hope people who make these decisions can see what’s happening here.” “They talk about budgets and policies, but on the ground, the mother is about walking the miles. It is about teenagers that I just found out that I had a positive and needed help. It is to save people. ”
Live or die
Mary Tarimo has dedicated life to help HIV patients continue to treat. As a home -based nursing supervisor in the HIV department of Bagamoyo Hospital, she sees that she is taking shoes by checking the patient by exploring the distance of the dust of Dar Es Salaam and checking the patient.
Now she was helpless as she began to recur for several years.
Tarimo said, “There is a woman who has been caring for since 2015. “She never missed the dose. But now she has stopped taking medicine. ”
Three mothers who made a living as a street cook shed tears a few days ago.
Tarimo recalled: “How do you react to it? What is that choice? ”
A tragedy like Bagamo Moyo Village has been developed. People appeared in a hospital with the first signs of ten, night sweat and opportunity infection. Some people were ashamed of being able to get treatment anymore and simply stopped coming.
Tarimo said, “I met a man last weekend. I was diagnosed in 2010. I have never missed a promise. “Now he’s scared. He told me, ‘I think I came back to where I started. “
She shook her head for a while. “The worst part? We have spent decades to build this program. And now, so, we are watching everything falling. ”
Solution search
Despite the desolate outlook, Joachim refused to give up.
“We are not just sitting and seeing this happening,” she said. “We are talking with other international partners, private donors and our government to find alternative funds.”
The Ministry of Health promised that ARV would reinforce some of the budget to continue to flow, and hoped that other donor countries could enter.
Joachim said, “We are looking at all possible solutions. “People have the right to treat. We will do our best to get them. ”
But experts warned that Tanzania’s national health budget could not cover $ 260 per patient for ARV. For many people, the cost between 15 and USD 20 was rarely paid for a month.
Rutatwa said, “Reality is that this gap cannot be broken without external support. “And it means that life will be lost.”
Lace
Bary returned to Moyo Hospital and sat on the bench and looked at the floor. She didn’t know what to do next.
“I don’t want to die,” she whispered. “I just want my medicine.”
When she stood up to leave, she saw others in the waiting room. They were all waiting for not exist anymore.
Now Tanzania was scrambling to find a solution. But time was approaching for millions of people depending on PEPFAR.
IPS Un Bureau Report
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© Inter Press Service (2025) -Lee all rightsSource: Inter Press Service