In 2015, world leaders made a bold promise: to achieve the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) by 2030. These 17 goals laid out a vision of a healthier, more equitable world—where every child has access to nutritious food, where maternal deaths are rare, and where the world’s poorest countries have a real shot at sustained growth.

But with just five years to go, the finish line feels increasingly out of reach.

As a Senegalese-American who co-leads a community-rooted health organization in Dakar, I see every day what’s working—and what’s not. I see progress born not from policy papers or pledges, but from everyday people solving extraordinary problems with grit, care, and deep local knowledge.

We will not reach the SDGs through slogans or summit declarations. We will get there only through consistent investment in local systems, trusted frontline workers, and community-led solutions. When it comes to maternal health, nutrition, or access to care, the most enduring impact happens when communities aren’t just recipients of aid—but the architects of their own future.

Yet at this critical moment, the United States is retreating. Foreign aid budgets are shrinking. Lifesaving global health initiatives are being sidelined. Programs that once connected Americans to communities like mine are being dismantled—not because they failed, but because of shifting federal priorities.

But this moment isn’t just about what governments do or don’t do. It’s about who we are—as Americans, as global citizens, and as human beings. Will we define ourselves by what our institutions pull back from—or by how we step up?

I chose the latter.

At age 12, I immigrated to the United States. I was labeled an “at-risk” student. But I saw potential—not only in myself, but in every child, every caregiver, every community I’ve worked with since. That belief carried me from Mississippi to Harvard, and then back home to Senegal, where I co-founded the Foundation for a Healthier Senegal (FOHSEN) with my father in 2019.

At FOHSEN, we don’t impose solutions—we co-create them. We work with villages to identify trusted individuals—women, youth, respected elders—who are then trained to deliver life-saving health services right to the doorsteps of families in the most remote parts of the country. These community health workers speak the local language. They know the culture. They are, in every sense, of the people they serve.

We center the leadership of those often overlooked: grandmothers, young mothers, religious leaders, the auntie who knows everyone and everything. We’re not building systems that rely on outside expertise—we’re building ones that communities can own and sustain.

And we do this because we’ve learned something many well-meaning institutions still miss: progress that lasts cannot be outsourced. It must be rooted in dignity, trust, and deep local ownership.

Still, even the most effective grassroots efforts need support. As U.S. institutions scale back, individual Americans can step in—not with saviorism, but with solidarity. Your support—of organizations like FOHSEN and countless others—can be the difference between neglect and transformation.

Sometimes, the price of your daily latte can fund a home visit from a trained health worker. A few minutes of your attention can redirect a life’s trajectory. In a world where indifference is easy, choosing action is a radical and necessary act.

Because the strength of a nation is not measured only by its policies—but by the compassion and commitment of its people.

We’re at a crossroads. The U.S. government may be stepping back from global leadership. But you don’t have to. You can be part of something bigger—something that honors the dignity and determination of communities rising to meet their own needs.

This isn’t about charity. It’s about justice.

It’s about investing in people, not saving them.

It’s about building a world where those most affected define what success looks like.

So yes, America, you may be stepping back. But I hope you’ll also step forward.

The only question is: Will you answer the call?

Il y a quelques jours, en rentrant chez moi, j’ai entendu une histoire à la radio sur un groupe de soldats sénégalais envoyés combattre pendant la Seconde Guerre mondiale. À leur retour, ils ont été maltraités et privés de leur humanité. Mon cœur s’est mis à battre plus vite. Je me suis demandé pourquoi cette histoire n’était pas nationale et pourquoi il n’y avait pas de journée pour honorer ce groupe. Néanmoins, une fois rentré chez moi, j’ai noté ce sujet comme quelque chose à partager sur ma page pour voir ce que mes amis en pensent.

Le massacre de Thiaroye, un événement tragique de l’histoire du Sénégal, a eu lieu le 1er décembre 1944. Des soldats sénégalais démobilisés qui avaient combattu pour la France pendant la Seconde Guerre mondiale ont protesté à Thiaroye après s’être vu refuser leur solde et leurs droits. La protestation est devenue meurtrière lorsque les forces françaises ont ouvert le feu, provoquant un massacre. Les rapports officiels français ont déclaré que 35 soldats ont été tués, mais les survivants affirment que le nombre se rapproche plutôt de 300.

Ilou Amadou, Fall Amar, N’téné Dayo, Sanon Dembele, Sikosio Dembele, Ouao Fara, Fara Gomis, Sice Gueye, Daougny Mao, Fako Saliou, Sène Saliou ne sont que quelques-uns des 44 de Thiaroye dont les noms risquent d’être oubliés, à moins que les dirigeants n’agissent.

Je comprends maintenant mieux pourquoi mon oncle a mentionné que j’avais un oncle qui a combattu dans la guerre. C’était une grande surprise. Un Africain pendant la Seconde Guerre mondiale ? Pourquoi ? Je me souviens avoir demandé à mon oncle. Il m’a expliqué que de nombreux combattants venaient de villages, y compris de notre village, Nganda.

Dans une démarche significative pour aborder ce chapitre sombre, l’actuel président du Sénégal, Bassirou Diomaye Diakhar Faye, a pris des mesures pour s’assurer que le massacre soit correctement reconnu et commémoré. Un comité ad hoc sera mis en place pour commémorer le 80e anniversaire du massacre de Thiaroye. Annoncé par le Premier ministre Ousmane Sonko le 26 juin 2024, ce comité vise à faire la lumière sur cet événement tragique et à rechercher la vérité et la justice pour les victimes.

En 1944, Thiaroye était un petit village de pêcheurs situé à 15 km à l’est de Dakar. Au fil des ans, il s’est transformé en une ville animée avec plus de 350 000 habitants. Thiaroye a joué un rôle crucial pendant l’ère coloniale, notamment avec l’établissement d’un vaste camp militaire français en 1905, qui est devenu un site important pour la formation et la démobilisation des tirailleurs sénégalais.

Malgré la gravité du massacre, il est resté une partie controversée et souvent négligée de l’histoire. L’événement a été entouré de mystère et de déni pendant des décennies, avec la censure par la France et le Sénégal du film de Ousmane Sembène en 1988 sur le massacre, qui n’a été rendu disponible en DVD qu’en 2005.

L’initiative du président Faye fait partie d’un effort plus large pour reconnaître et honorer la mémoire des victimes du massacre de Thiaroye. En 2004, un représentant du gouvernement français, André Wiltzer, a rompu le silence officiel en reconnaissant la tragédie lors d’une cérémonie commémorant la libération de Toulon. Suite à cela, le Sénégal a déclaré le cimetière de Thiaroye “Cimetière National” pour honorer les soldats tombés, et chaque année, le Premier ministre dépose une gerbe en souvenir.

Le massacre de Thiaroye reste un rappel poignant des luttes auxquelles ont été confrontés les soldats africains qui ont combattu pour les puissances coloniales. En reconnaissant ce chapitre sombre de l’histoire, le Sénégal et d’autres pays du continent peuvent enseigner à leurs enfants le rôle que leurs ancêtres ont joué dans la formation des événements mondiaux et encourager les dirigeants, sur la scène mondiale, à dénoncer les injustices perpétrées et l’impact qu’elles ont eu sur le continent.

On September 25th, 2015, at the UN headquarters, 193 world leaders committed to the 17 Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs), which aim to end poverty, fight inequality and injustice, and address climate change by 2030. Now, nearly halfway through that declaration, it is necessary to review what is working well and what still needs to be addressed. As the Executive Director of the Foundation of the Healthier Senegal (FOHSEN), I am uniquely positioned to share lessons learned over the last three years and observations of what partners like Dovetail are doing to re-imagine development.

In an attempt to tackle SDG 2 which aims to end hunger and all forms of malnutrition and SDG 3, to ensure healthy lives and promote well-being at all ages, FOHSEN centers its work around a proven approach: community participatory action. This concept is derived from the premise that permanent improvements in healthcare (in FOHSEN’s case) is rarely attainable without the involvement and cooperation of beneficiaries. Many experts have suggested that utilizing a participatory approach “credits people with the ability, even in the most extreme circumstances, to engage with the issues that face them”. While FOHSEN is in its early stages of development, we have maintained the same approach– our decisions are made from and by our communities, then implemented by our team. For example, two weeks ago, we visited team members in Nganda, who are at the core of what we do. These passionate and talented individuals are health workers that have been selected and trained to provide door-to-door essential health services to their fellow community members. In conversations around challenges and successes, they meticulously characterized the challenges that they are facing and proposed a plan for how we should address them. Following the trip, we initiated a plan and followed through with their suggestions. While greater community participation does not necessarily lead to improved outputs for beneficiaries, at FOHSEN, we believe that if we can ensure power relations that exist within our own villages are deconstructed through involvement of our women, youth groups, religious leaders, health workers and elected officials, only then can we construct sustainable systems that do not rely on western or our own misunderstanding.

A lesson that we’ve learned through this mechanism is that while funders from the Global North often attempt to operationalize community participation, they often assign community members and leaders as assistants. The former even provide ‘training’ to the latter as northern researchers and donors are considered de-facto experts in the field. Our new partner, the Dovetail Impact Foundationunderstands the power of community voice and agency. As part of the second cohort of their Acceleration Portfolio, the foundation invests in African organizations with annual budgets under $500,000 USD who are deeply rooted in their communities, have enterprising leadership, and have ambition to grow their impact. By pairing unrestricted funding with capacity support, their goal is to help organizations lay the groundwork needed to access greater opportunities and funding. Our deep ties in Nganda and surrounding communities, puts us in a unique position to understand and have a plan for addressing community needs.

If we are to achieve the SDGs by 2030, the current approach of prescriptie monitoring & evaluation and one-sided consultations from donors, must be reevaluated to consider the diversity and nuances of each community. Those providing support cannot only rely on their metrics to define what success looks like– it must involve the community ‘being developed’ in that process. If philanthropists can restructure the power that the impacted population has in terms of how success is measured and who is invited to their board and decision-making tables, only then, will we achieve sustainability. The aid-receiving people and country must be acknowledged and centered in proposals and solutions. Success must be defined by the communities receiving funds in order to truly create long-term change