The government talks up its commitment but denies girls the one thing proven to transform their lives
Two years after its ceremonial launch, the United Kingdom has quietly withdrawn SHEFE, a £45 million programme designed to keep one million girls in school across Africa, Asia, and the Middle East, as part of a sweeping reduction of the aid budget to its lowest recorded level. The cancellation arrives weeks after the Foreign Secretary declared women and girls a departmental priority, exposing a tension between stated values and fiscal choices that rarely resolves in favour of the most vulnerable. Education, the evidence has long shown, is not merely a social good but a shield — against child marriage, against violence, against the narrowing of a life — and its withdrawal is therefore not a bureaucratic adjustment but a withdrawal of possibility itself.
- A flagship programme built to transform the lives of a million girls was cancelled without public announcement, its tender quietly withdrawn by the FCDO just weeks after the Foreign Secretary pledged women's safety as a top priority.
- The contradiction between rhetoric and action has alarmed parliamentarians, development experts, and civil society groups who see the cuts not as a pause but as a reversal of decades of hard-won progress on gender equality.
- The damage extends far beyond SHEFE: programmes in South Sudan, the DRC, Ethiopia, Sierra Leone, Nigeria, and Zimbabwe have been cut or cancelled, the Girls' Education Department has lost half its funding, and study visas for women from conflict-affected nations have been blocked.
- Global education aid is projected to fall by $3.2 billion by 2026, with an estimated six million more children at risk of leaving school by year's end — a cascading effect that observers say the UK's cuts helped trigger among other donor nations.
- The government insists its values remain intact and that funding to combat violence against women is protected, but critics argue that denying access to higher education is itself a form of abandonment, one that leaves girls without the most proven protection available to them.
Two years ago, the British government launched SHEFE — Strengthening Higher Education for Female Empowerment — with ceremony and a £45 million budget intended to keep one million girls in school across Africa, Asia, and the Middle East. Last month, the Foreign, Commonwealth and Development Office quietly withdrew the tender. The programme was over.
The timing was difficult to ignore. In May, Foreign Secretary Yvette Cooper had declared women and girls a priority for her department. Within weeks, one of the government's most visible initiatives in that space had been shelved. Bambos Charalambous, the Labour MP chairing the all-party parliamentary group on global education, said he was alarmed, urging the government to think now about how to rebuild and salvage similar work.
The evidence behind SHEFE was not abstract. Girls who access higher education are up to six times less likely to marry as children and face less partner violence. These are changes in the texture of a life. But the programme fell to a larger retrenchment: Prime Minister Keir Starmer announced the aid budget would fall from 0.5 to 0.3 percent of gross national income by 2027 — the lowest level since records began, and less than half the UN target. The decision reversed Labour's own manifesto commitments and prompted the resignation of then-international development minister Anneliese Dodds.
SHEFE was not the only casualty. A £150 million Education for All programme in South Sudan was cancelled. A UK initiative that had brought tens of thousands of girls to school for the first time in the DRC was abandoned. Educational work was cut in Ethiopia, Sierra Leone, Nigeria, and Zimbabwe. The FCDO's Girls' Education Department lost 51 percent of its funding. The Home Office separately blocked study visas for applicants from Afghanistan, Sudan, Myanmar, and Cameroon.
Joseph Nhan-O'Reilly, co-founder of the International Parliamentary Network for Education, saw a pattern. The UK had once been a champion of global education, he said, and its cuts had influenced the posture of other donors. He described the outcome under a Labour government as a betrayal of the sector.
The global picture confirmed his concern. International aid to education is projected to fall by $3.2 billion by 2026 — a 24 percent drop. Six million more children risk being out of school by year's end. The FCDO defended the cuts as a redirection toward national security and defence, insisting that protecting women and girls remained a Foreign Office priority. But for the girls who would have passed through SHEFE's doors — less likely to be married as children, less likely to face violence — the protection on offer had quietly changed shape.
Two years ago, the British government announced a programme with considerable ceremony. It was called Strengthening Higher Education for Female Empowerment—SHEFE—and it carried a £45 million budget designed to keep one million girls in school across Africa, Asia, and the Middle East. The scheme promised to expand access to higher education for students who might otherwise have no path forward. Last month, the Foreign, Commonwealth and Development Office quietly withdrew the tender. The programme was dead.
The timing was particularly sharp. In May, Foreign Secretary Yvette Cooper had declared that women and girls were a priority for her department, that she was determined to make women's safety a worldwide concern. Yet within weeks, one of the government's flagship initiatives aimed at doing exactly that was shelved. The contradiction did not go unnoticed. Bambos Charalambous, the Labour MP who chairs the all-party parliamentary group on global education, said he was alarmed. "A flagship higher education programme designed to empower women and girls and help them achieve their potential appears to have been scrapped because of the aid cuts," he said. He urged the government to begin thinking now about how to rebuild from the cuts and save similar projects.
The evidence behind SHEFE was straightforward. Girls who access higher education are up to six times less likely to marry as children. They experience less violence from partners. Women with advanced education earn more. These are not abstract benefits—they are transformations in the texture of a life. Yet the programme fell victim to a much larger retrenchment. Prime Minister Keir Starmer announced last year that the UK aid budget would be cut from 0.5 percent of gross national income to 0.3 percent by 2027, the lowest level since records began. The UN target is 0.7 percent. The former Conservative prime minister David Cameron had pledged to reach that target in 2012, despite resistance from his own party. Labour's cut was a reversal of its own manifesto promises and prompted the resignation of Anneliese Dodds, then international development minister.
SHEFE was not alone. The FCDO cancelled the tender for an Education for All programme in South Sudan, a £150 million scheme designed to support girls and children with disabilities in one of the world's poorest countries, where literacy rates rank fourth-lowest globally. A UK programme in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, which had brought tens of thousands of girls to school for the first time, was abandoned. Educational work was cut in Ethiopia, Sierra Leone, Nigeria, and Zimbabwe. The FCDO's Girls' Education Department lost 51 percent of its funding. The Home Office, separately, blocked new study visas for applicants from Afghanistan, Sudan, Myanmar, and Cameroon—countries where many women have few opportunities to study at home. British universities, which earn substantial revenue from foreign students paying higher fees than domestic ones, felt the impact.
Joseph Nhan-O'Reilly, co-founder of the International Parliamentary Network for Education, saw a pattern of contradiction. "The government talks up its commitment to women and girls but at every turn it denies the world's most marginalised girls the thing that everyone agrees has the biggest impact on their lives: access to higher education," he said. He noted that the UK had once been a champion of global education. The cuts announced last year closely followed those in the United States, and they had set the tone for other donors. "These cuts can't be seen on their own; they've influenced the posture and level of commitment from many other donors," he said. He was devastated by what he saw as a Labour betrayal. "We've been absolutely flabbergasted and devastated by these cuts happening under Labour. This was a huge mistake and betrayal of the sector."
The global picture was bleak. According to Unicef analysis, international aid to education is projected to fall by $3.2 billion by 2026—a 24 percent drop. An estimated six million more children risk being out of school by year's end, with 30 percent of them in humanitarian settings. That is equivalent to emptying every primary school in Germany and Italy combined. Bond, a UK network for organisations working in international development, warned that cuts to programmes supporting women and girls threatened to reverse hard-won progress on gender-based violence and gender equality. Polling by More in Common found that the majority of the UK public wanted programmes protecting women and girls' safety to be shielded from aid cuts.
The FCDO defended the decision by pointing to national security. "National security is the first duty of this government," a spokesperson said. The aid cuts were being redirected to defence spending. "This does not mean stepping back from our values—protecting women and girls is now a Foreign Office priority. Funding to tackle violence against women and girls is protected this year." Yet the withdrawal of SHEFE suggested that protection took different forms depending on where one looked. The girls who would have benefited from higher education access—the ones who would have been six times less likely to marry as children, less likely to experience violence—would have to find their protection elsewhere.
Notable Quotes
A flagship higher education programme designed to empower women and girls appears to have been scrapped because of the aid cuts— Bambos Charalambous, Labour MP and chair of the all-party parliamentary group on global education
We've been absolutely flabbergasted and devastated by these cuts happening under Labour. This was a huge mistake and betrayal of the sector— Joseph Nhan-O'Reilly, co-founder of the International Parliamentary Network for Education
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why did the government cancel this programme now, two years in? What changed?
The aid budget itself changed. The government cut overall development spending from 0.5 percent of national income to 0.3 percent. That's a massive reduction, and education programmes were among the first things to go. It wasn't a decision about SHEFE specifically—it was collateral damage from a larger retrenchment.
But the Foreign Secretary just said women and girls were a priority. How do you square that circle?
You don't, really. That's the contradiction people are pointing out. The rhetoric and the action are in different directions. It's possible to say something is a priority while cutting the funding that makes it real. Words are cheaper than money.
What's the actual human consequence here? Who loses?
One million girls across Africa, Asia, and the Middle East who would have had access to higher education. Girls in countries like South Sudan and the DRC where educational opportunities are already scarce. The research shows that when girls get higher education, they're far less likely to be forced into early marriage or experience partner violence. So the consequence is not abstract—it's measurable harm.
Is this just a UK problem, or is something bigger happening?
It's part of a bigger shift. The US cut aid first, and other donors followed. The UK was once a leader in global education funding. Now it's moving in the opposite direction, and other countries are watching and adjusting their own commitments downward. One country's cut influences many others.
The government says the money is going to defence. Is that a fair trade-off?
That's a values question, not a factual one. But the people working in development see it as a betrayal, especially because Labour promised in its manifesto not to make these cuts. One minister resigned over it. The public, according to polling, wanted these programmes protected. So there's a gap between what was promised and what was delivered.