The UK's own global health security depends on continued investment in disease research
Behind each one of the numbers is a person, a family, a community whose lives have been saved or changed for the better. We believe that as one of the richest nations in the world, the UK has an ethical responsibility to take a lead on breakthroughs in neglected diseases.
But the case for continued support and investment is much stronger than just ethical responsibility; there are widespread and measurable economic and social benefits not only in the countries where these diseases occur but in the UK itself.
A new report, by Impact Global Health in collaboration with Liverpool School of Tropical Medicine, found that the UK directly benefits from R&D investment into diseases like malaria, HIV and tuberculosis.
It shows that the UK economy would gain an additional boost of £7.7 billion and 4,000 additional jobs by 2040 from public funding of neglected disease R&D. Some £6 billion has already been gained but around £1.5 billion, equivalent to an average of £100 million a year, is yet to be felt and is contingent on funding being sustained.
And the benefits to the UK of investment in global health do not stop there.
Now is the time for bold action
Covid-19, and the West African Ebola epidemic demonstrated that infections don't recognise geographic borders. Nobody is safe from future pandemics until everybody has access to effective diagnostics, drugs and treatments and robust health systems.
Put simply: the UK's own global health security depends on continued investment in this early pipeline of global health R&D.
Yet 2025 has been a challenging year for global health – with significant cuts announced to critical funding internationally and continued uncertainty about future investment. Already, many projects have been forced to pause or stop, causing a direct negative impact on the people and communities which are most in need.
In an age where there are multiple calls on government and other budgets, global health R&D could be seen, mistakenly, as an easy target. But the impact of R&D funding in the UK and across the globe should not be underestimated.
This latest research clearly shows how this funding has already significantly improved health outcomes and positively impacted individual lives and wider society. We must keep this momentum to realise these benefits into the future.
There is a very real risk that funding cuts now or in the future will reduce the impact of what has already been achieved and will lose the opportunity to develop new products, save even more lives and create even more sustained economic benefit. Any reduction in investment could rapidly unravel the substantial progress made to date, leaving future advances in life-saving interventions in jeopardy.
Now is the time for bold action to protect critical investment in this area. Every pound of funding lost will negatively impact the UK economy, make the UK more vulnerable to future pandemics, and most importantly, expose the most vulnerable communities around the world to greater health threats.
The UK has been a leader in funding and conducting research and development targeted at neglected diseases over the last two decades. Along with saving countless lives within some of the world's poorest communities, that investment has had real health and economic benefits in the UK.
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Telegraph
9 hours ago
- Telegraph
Lesotho mothers fear passing HIV to their babies as US aid cuts halt testing
When the young mother-to-be arrived for the test to tell if she was HIV positive and therefore might infect her unborn child, she found the door to the clinic testing room locked. The tests had been halted Mareabetsoe Monyamane, 26, was told, and the counsellors who had once given peace of mind to expectant mothers had been laid off. 'My heart sank,' she told the Telegraph. 'I felt helpless. I sat there thinking about my baby – what if I had contracted HIV since the last test?' For nearly two decades in Lesotho, making sure that women do not pass on HIV to their children has been a cornerstone of the tiny Southern African kingdom's campaign against Aids. If women do test positive, the unborn child can still be protected by prescribing antiretroviral drugs, or anti-HIV protective medicine called pre-exposure prophylaxis, or PrEP. But the programme had been paid for with American aid, which until recently underwrote nearly every level of Lesotho's HIV response. The Prevention of Mother-to-Child Transmission (PMTCT) programme has now become a casualty of Donald Trump's decision to sharply cut back the US President's Emergency Fund for Aids Relief (Pepfar). In a country that has the world's second-highest HIV prevalence, according to the World Health Organization's August 2023 Disease Outlook report, this is devastating for pregnant women like Ms Monyamane. Over 800 of the 1,500 HIV counsellors and nurses who once guided women through testing and helped them protect themselves and their babies have been dismissed as casualties of the aid freeze. The moment she was told she would not be tested 'hit me like cold water,' Ms Monyamane recalled. 'I wanted to cry. Some of us even thought of buying self-test kits, but I am one of those who could not afford it. 'I worry even more – not just about the money to buy the test, but what the results might be and what that would mean for my unborn child. I fear for my baby's life.' Mamello Nchela, aged only 18, says she is terrified of not taking an HIV test. She said: 'The fear of not knowing leaves me with so many what ifs? I keep asking myself: 'What if I'm too late? What if I can't protect my baby?'' Some 19 per cent of people in Lesotho have HIV and their plight led Prince Harry, the Duke of Sussex, to found his charity Sentebale, to help. Unfortunately, Harry and other founders of the charity stepped down earlier this year following a clash with the charity's chief executive. At £54m ($72m) per year, Pepfar accounted for 67 percent of the £78m ($106m) HIV budget for 2024/25, according to Lesotho's ministry of health. The US has now agreed to continue only 28 percent of the Pepfar funding, which will be narrowly focused mainly around medicine distribution. The PMTCT programme has not been spared. In a health centre built with American money but now without American support, eight pregnant women, aged between 17 and 33, sit inside a yellow-walled room where the cold winter air battles the warmth of a small black-and-red paraffin heater. They have come for their monthly check-up and health talk with midwife Mphonyane Thetso, who helplessly watches as drama unfolds before her. 'We have records showing that some women delivered their babies in April and May 2025 with invalid (inconclusive) HIV status because they were not retested after we lost our HIV counsellor,' Ms Thetso said. She explained: 'Sometimes a pregnant woman tests HIV-negative at her first visit. Then, when she comes back at 36 weeks for a re-test, she tests HIV-positive. A woman can give birth HIV-positive without knowing it, if she wasn't retested. 'If she tests positive, we can still prevent mother-to-child transmission with antiretroviral therapy and PrEP 'But you can't give PrEP to someone if you don't know their HIV status.' The concern is shared at the highest levels of Lesotho's health system. The ministry of health's HIV/Aids manager, Dr Tapiwa Tarumbiswa, told parliament in May that 'HIV-unsuppressed mothers are more likely to infect their children during pregnancy, birth, and breastfeeding'. There is little hope in Lesotho that the American aid will be switched back on. Dr Tlohang Letsie, a senior lecturer at the National University of Lesotho said the country lacked minerals that the US can benefit directly from. He said: 'Another factor is that Lesotho seems to be hopeless in engaging the US. The country is simply not doing enough. It appears we are waiting for the divine intervention to blow some spirit of philanthropy into the Americans.' Maitumeleng Tsiame, aged 17, spent £1.70 ($2.30) on a ticket from Metolong, Thaba-Bosiu to Nazareth Health Centre to take her HIV test. When she arrived there, she was told instead to travel to St Joseph Hospital in Roma, requiring another £2.95 ($4) for transport. She said: 'I didn't go to Roma – not because I didn't care – but because I simply couldn't afford it. Deep inside, I am tormented by fear. I keep imagining my child being born with HIV because I couldn't get tested. It hurts. I cry in silence.' Nineteen-year-old Itumeleng Thamae was also turned away from the health centre, saying it was one of the scariest days of her life. She said: 'I felt like my baby's life was at risk, and I couldn't do anything about it. I was overwhelmed by fear – every day I worry if I am unknowingly putting my child in danger.' Matebello Khoahli's children are proof that Lesotho's PMTCT programme used to be effective. The 40-year-old tested HIV-positive in 2009, but two of her three children, aged 12 and five, have been medically declared HIV-negative. But she is now worried about her 23-month-old baby, who missed her final HIV test aged 18 months, in April. She said: 'I was told the office was closed because Trump cut foreign aid to Lesotho, and the people who worked there are no longer around. 'My mind was troubled when I was told my daughter couldn't be tested. Even today, I am still troubled, wondering where I can go for help so my daughter can get her last HIV test,' she said, adding: 'when I asked at the Nazareth Health Centre, they told me to go to St Joseph's Hospital in Roma.' But Khoahli never made the trip. She did not have the £1.90 ($2.60) needed for transport. 'We are in darkness,' she said.
Metro
a day ago
- Metro
My drink was spiked – then I got a life-changing diagnosis
Saying goodbye to my friend at the pub, I decided to stay and finish my drink. Within minutes, I knew something was wrong. I felt really dizzy, hot, had a slight tremor, and I was unable to lift my head or ask for help. Suddenly, there was a guy's shoes between mine. I could smell strong, cheap aftershave, and when he asked me if I needed any help, I thought 'thank goodness'. I said yes. That's the last thing I remember from the chilly October evening in 2005 that changed my world forever. When I opened my eyes, it felt like I had just blinked. I was blinded by the strong winter sun that streamed through my bedroom window. I can only guess, but the stranger must have made himself out to be a friend that was helping me – and that's how I got home while dipping in and out of consciousness. I caught a glance at the clock on my bedside table and realised it was the next day – 10:02am – meaning there were a whole 12 hours I can't recall. I felt horrendous; shivering, nauseous, and confused – just like an awful hangover – so I went to stand up to go and take a shower. But I couldn't get up; my legs were unable to hold me upright. With thousands of members from all over the world, our vibrant LGBTQ+ WhatsApp channel is a hub for all the latest news and important issues that face the LGBTQ+ community. Simply click on this link, select 'Join Chat' and you're in! Don't forget to turn on notifications! Once I finally dragged myself to the bathroom and began getting undressed, it was glaringly obvious that someone had done something terrible to me. I was confused and scared. A few hours later, after ignoring what I knew and spending almost an hour in the shower trying to scrub away what I could only imagine had happened to me, I phoned for help. I phoned emergency services. They told me to stay where I was while they called an ambulance and police car to my flat. I was at the hospital when I was told I had Rohypnol – a date rape drug – in my blood and that the physical evidence showed I had been raped. Being spiked, finding out that I had been raped, and feeling like I had to justify why I showered and washed away the crucial evidence that potentially could have been used to find my attacker, was just too much for me to take. While still in hospital, I did a full sexual health screening. All my results came back clear, but I was told that it can take three months for HIV to show up in a blood test, so I'd need to come back then for another test. Rape Crisis England & Wales is a charity working to end rape, sexual assault, sexual harassment, child sexual abuse – and all other forms of sexual violence. Whether it happened recently, or a long time ago; whether you know without a doubt that you experienced sexual violence, or aren't quite sure; whether it happened to you, or someone you know; Rape Crisis England & Wales will always believe you and listen to you, and they can offer you information and support. You can find out more about Rape Crisis England & Wales here; and if you're aged 16 or over, you can call the charity's 24/7 support line for free on 0808 500 2222. Once discharged from hospital, I thought about filing a report with the police, but knowing I'd have to relive the trauma while going through the courts was just too much to bear. I already felt broken. The aftermath hit me hard so I drank heavily to cope. As a result, I missed the three-month checkup. On top of that, I couldn't be with anyone sexually and I was constantly trying to forget the memories that I couldn't actually remember. By the sixth month, I knew I couldn't keep living in a downward spiral, so I went back to the hospital for my HIV test – despite not having any symptoms. When the results of that test came in at the end of February in 2006, the doctor sat me down. She said how sorry she was; I tested positive for HIV. The person who had raped me passed the virus to me. I could only feel shocked at first, like the air was knocked out of my body. My first thought was: My life is over. This is because, growing up in the 80s and under Section 28, all I saw was death, and I wasn't taught anything different. I just cried and cried. But I knew I wanted to be here; I wanted to live. I just didn't know who I could tell. So I spent the next two years of my life closing myself off and listening to lots of Whitney Houston – one of my favourite artists, who made me feel less lonely and reminded me of better times. At the time I was diagnosed, people living with HIV didn't start treatment right away. So I had to wait for my CD4 count (the number of white blood cells in a cubic millimetre of blood) to go below 200, before it developed into an AIDS-defining illness. It would be four years until I started treatment, so I watched every cough and cold, waiting for death to come. After two years, it became clear to me that I was not going to die. So I started seeing my consultant and doing what I could to strengthen my body and mind – what I needed to do to live again. I started to research HIV organisations like Naz, Terrence Higgins Trust, London Lighthouse and Body and Soul. I saw people with HIV living long, happy, healthy lives. I also found inspiration in Pedro Zamora, a young HIV advocate who was on the TV programme The Real World. Even though he had passed in the 90s, in his 22 short years, he had made such an impact in his HIV and LBGTQ+ rights activism. I still keep a photo of him on my mirror to this day. In time, I realised that I deserved to allow myself to live and live freely. As an actor – for my therapy – I decided to write my story, which then became my one-man show 'Shadowed Dreamer'. I'd had a really challenging life so I wrote the story to be infused with humour because that's how I got through it all. It's my story of survival and determination. I ended up touring New York in 2010, closing Off Broadway, and then in the UK. I recently did more shows, touring the UK again and continued to tell my story. Unfortunately, the stigma surrounding HIV is very real and something that people living with HIV regularly face. After my diagnosis, I lost friends, including one who gradually distanced themselves before phoning me out of the blue to say: 'Stephen, I can't watch you die.' I wasn't at a place yet in my diagnosis to challenge them so they simply exited my life. This is why it's important that people educate themselves on what HIV is and that it's no longer a death sentence. It's a liveable, manageable condition. And since the science of U=U (which means undetectable equals untransmittable) anyone on effective treatment with an undetectable viral load cannot pass HIV on to a sexual partner. To keep myself undetectable, I take my medication via injection every two months. It's a part of my routine, not a barrier to living my fullest life. In fact, it's helped me connect with others. I've met friends for life singing in the Joyful Noise, a choir of people living with HIV organised by the sexual health charity, Naz. I'm a performer and I'm an HIV activist supporting the Zero HIV Stigma Day campaign. More Trending I share my story, not only because I don't want anyone to feel as lonely or scared as I did, but because I want people to know what HIV looks like today. It looks like me and like so many other wonderful people; 113,500 are living with HIV in the UK alone, and over 40million worldwide. HIV does not stop us; what stops us is stigma, misinformation, and the decades-old statistics that are no longer true. We are just like anyone else; we just live with a virus in our blood. View More » Now, 19 years after my diagnosis, I feel quite satisfied and lucky with my life. And most importantly, I'm excited for what the future holds. Do you have a story you'd like to share? Get in touch by emailing Share your views in the comments below. MORE: I had high hopes for adult summer camp – then I went MORE: I escaped my ex – now our 8-year-old son is the one being abused MORE: 'I used a fake profile to hunt my aunt's murderer' Your free newsletter guide to the best London has on offer, from drinks deals to restaurant reviews.
South Wales Guardian
2 days ago
- South Wales Guardian
Sir David Nabarro, WHO's special envoy for Covid-19, dies aged 75
The WHO's director-general Dr Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus said he was 'deeply shocked and saddened by the passing' of Sir David. London-born Sir David worked at the United Nations for 17 years, expanding nutrition programmes to underdeveloped countries and tackling health crises including outbreaks of malaria, bird flu and Ebola, before leaving in 2017. He was appointed as special envoy on Covid-19 for the WHO in 2020 and appeared on news programmes regularly throughout the pandemic, telling Sky News in June 2021 that humanity was going to have to learn how to 'co-exist' with Covid-19. Sir David was knighted at Buckingham Palace in March 2023 for his outstanding contribution to global health. Dr Tedros wrote on X: 'Deeply shocked and saddened by the passing of our dear friend, colleague and WHO Envoy David Nabarro. 'David was a great champion of global health and health equity, and a wise, generous mentor to countless individuals. 'His work touched and impacted so many lives across the world. 'On behalf of WHO, I'm extending our heartfelt condolences to David's family, friends and colleagues. 'Rest in peace, my dear friend. We will dearly miss your expertise, wisdom and kindness.'
