On the outskirts of Somalia’s southern port city, the land has become an open graveyard for cattle. Some are left where they fell, while others are buried in shallow graves after consecutive failed rainy seasons.

For many families here, pastoralists who rely on livestock for milk, meat, and income, animals were everything, but what was once a lifeline of food and income has now become a stark symbol of loss.

The impact is not just felt in Kismayo, but across the country, with 6.5 million people forced to skip meals and go hungry every day. Drought and rising costs only pushing the country deeper into crisis.

The humanitarian director at Save the Children, Francesca Sangiorgi, says the crisis is being driven by repeated climate shocks that are compounding over time. “We’re seeing multiple rainy seasons that have failed across the country,” she tells Al Jazeera, adding that even when rain arrives, it is often too uneven and too late to restore livelihoods that have already collapsed.

What’s the scale of the crisis?

The scale of Somalia’s hunger crisis is severe and rapidly worsening.

With a third of the population facing severe food insecurity (classified as IPC Phase 3 and above), many households are struggling to get enough food to meet their basic daily requirements (PDF) — and in some cases going without food altogether, leaving them more vulnerable to malnutrition and illnesses such as diarrhoea, measles, and other infections.

Of these, more than 2 million people are in the most critical conditions short of famine (IPC Phase 4 or emergency levels), where families are facing extreme shortages and are increasingly forced into displacement in search of basic needs, moving towards already overcrowded aid camps where resources are rapidly dwindling.

Children are among the most affected. According to the UN, an estimated 1.8 million children under five in Somalia are at risk of acute malnutrition, putting their survival in immediate danger.

Sangiorgi notes that the deterioration has been unfolding rapidly, its effects already evident.

“The situation of children across the country is extremely concerning,” she explains. “We’re seeing the spread of child illnesses across the country. Dropout rates are extremely high right now, and they continue to rise because of the drought. We want to make sure that children have a chance at life—access to the health and nutrition services they need, as well as education.”

According to Doctors Without Borders, known by its French initials MSF, more than 3.3 million people have been displaced, severely straining the already limited resources and basic services in these communities.

What does the crisis look like on the ground?

Near Kismayo, one of Somalia’s largest camps for displaced people has formed, sheltering families who have nothing to eat and have travelled from across Jubbaland.

One woman describes how her herd has fallen from 200 cattle to just four, ending her very livelihood.

Barwaqo Aden, a displaced Jamame resident in Lower Juba, arrived at the camp only recently, but her eight-month-old daughter is already in the local hospital with severe malnutrition due to the lack of resources.

Others arrive after exhausting journeys, fleeing areas controlled by the armed group al-Shabab. A displaced resident, Hodhan Mohamed, walked for days and crossed the River Juba by boat before reaching a crowded settlement, unsure what she would find. Like many new arrivals, she now waits for assistance that is limited and uncertain.

Sangiorgi explains that secondary displacement – when people who have already been forced from their homes are displaced again – is becoming increasingly frequent. “As services and commodities continue to shrink across the country, the prices of essential goods keep rising as well.”

More than 3.8 million Somalis are currently displaced, making up 22 percent of the population. Many have been uprooted multiple times, moving from one settlement to another as aid resources dwindle and access to support becomes more limited.

What’s driving the crisis?

At its core, the crisis is primarily driven by climate shocks.

Somalia has had three consecutive failed rainy seasons in recent years, drying out rivers, wells, and pasturelands.

For livestock-dependent communities, the impact has been immediate: animals are dying, and with them, livelihoods are disappearing.

As local production collapses, families are forced to buy from markets even as food, fuel, and water prices continue to rise. In rural areas, especially, incomes no longer stretch far enough to meet needs.

Insecurity caused by armed conflict adds further strain, displacing communities and limiting access for aid workers in some regions.

Beyond Somalia, the global economic crisis linked to the US–Israeli war on Iran has also played a role in constricting supply chains. A UN aid chief told the Reuters news agency in March that these disruptions are compounding costs and weakening the ability to deliver assistance, as humanitarian systems come under growing strain.

MSF reported last month that transport costs have risen by up to 50 percent in parts of Somalia, making it harder for people to reach health facilities and increasing the cost of delivering care as fuel prices climb.

The organisation also said more than 200 health and nutrition facilities have closed since early 2025 due to sharp funding cuts, leaving critical gaps in already overstretched health services.

What does the aid collapse look like?

As the need for aid rises, humanitarian funding and response capacities are only shrinking.

The UN response plan for Somalia is currently funded at just 20 percent of what is required — with $1.42bn needed but only $288m received. That discrepancy has forced major cuts, reducing the number of people targeted for assistance from 6 million to just 1.3 million.

For Somalia, which relies heavily on imported food and external assistance, the consequences are immediate. Fewer supplies are reaching ports, while the cost of delivering essentials continues to rise, testing an already fragile system.

As UN humanitarian chief Tom Fletcher told Reuters in March, “These [constraints] will damage our humanitarian supply chains, reduce ‌the ⁠humanitarian supplies we can get to people who need them, but they’ll also drive up energy costs and food costs across the region, this really is a perfect storm of factors right now, and I’m seriously worried,” he stated.

The humanitarian response has been cut by 75 percent, meaning millions of Somalis are no longer receiving assistance, even as the crisis deepens on the ground.