The current U.S. Ambassador to Zambia recently complained that despite the United States giving Zambia over $8 billion in aid over the past decade, the country still remains underdeveloped. First of all, let’s put this figure in perspective: that’s roughly $40 per Zambian per year. Can we honestly expect such an amount, spread across healthcare, education, and governance programs, to transform an entire nation?

The Ambassador’s frustration may be genuine, but expecting such aid to bring about deep economic transformation without addressing the systemic issues around how that aid is structured is simply misleading. As Zambian-born economist Dambisa Moyo argues in her book Dead Aid, the form of aid Africa has received for decades may actually be part of the problem. Aid that bypasses local institutions and is driven by donor priorities often creates dependency, undermines state accountability, and fails to build sustainable economic systems.

In Zambia’s case, a significant portion of U.S. aid, especially from USAID and PEPFAR, is channeled into the health sector, supporting programs like HIV/AIDS treatment, malaria control, maternal and child health, and vaccination programs. In the education sector, U.S. support has gone to teacher training, school infrastructure, and girls’ education initiatives. These are undeniably vital areas, and Zambia has seen meaningful progress here: the number of people accessing free HIV medication has grown, malaria deaths have declined, and the quality of basic education has improved, particularly for the girl child.

In light of these outcomes, the ambassador’s sweeping claim that Zambia “remains underdeveloped” risks overlooking real human development gains. So, what exactly did he mean by “underdeveloped”?

If his concerns were strictly about economic development, as they appear to be, then the conversation needs to shift from the volume of aid to the type of support provided. Because once healthcare and education take the lion’s share of foreign assistance, what remains is far too little to fuel industrialization, large-scale infrastructure, or competitive innovation.

Here’s the hard truth: No amount of donor-funded health and education programs will build factories, transfer advanced technology, or develop local capital markets. These things require strategic investment, trade policy, access to technology, and a vision of economic independence, all things that African nations must pursue with intentionality, not await from benevolent partners.

Unfortunately, many African leaders, and young politicians like Zambia’s Kasonde Mwenda, seem to fall for the illusion that foreign aid equals economic progress. Mwenda, who leads a party anchored on economic liberation, echoed the Ambassador’s criticism, questioning why Zambia isn’t developed despite American generosity. But this narrative misses the mark. Most U.S. aid to Zambia never touches the country’s industrial or technological base. It’s largely spent through NGOs, foreign contractors, and international agencies, not in developing productive capacities.

If the West truly wanted Africa to develop, they would prioritize technology transfers, investment in industrial zones, and open access to global value chains. They would support African engineers to build manufacturing capacity, not just supply textbooks or vaccines. But that would threaten their own position as suppliers of finished goods and consumers of African raw materials.

Let’s not forget: Africa’s underdevelopment has always been economically convenient for the West. Our role as exporters of copper, cobalt, oil, and coffee etc. and importers of cars, computers, and pharmaceuticals, sustains an unequal global structure. And this structure won’t change by asking politely or hoping for more aid. It will change when Africa starts to treat the West not just as partners, but as economic competitors.

Think about the story from Ghana, where a young entrepreneur began producing high-quality vehicles. The idea fizzled not because Africans can’t innovate, but because of barriers to technology, lack of automation, and an uneven playing field. Without economies of scale and access to advanced tools, even the brightest African ideas struggle to compete with German or Japanese giants.

In conclusion, if Zambia, and Africa more broadly, is to develop to the standards of the West, we must stop looking to the West to lift us. The real work lies in treating the West as economic competitors, not saviors. Aid has played its role in improving health and education, but it cannot be the engine of transformation. That responsibility lies with African governments, institutions, and people. It is time to negotiate technology transfer, build resilient industries, and craft policies that protect and promote local production. Anything less is surrendering our future to a comfortable dependency.