The depantsing of USAID

I wear the pants of a former officer of the United States Agency of International Development (USAID), lately assigned to the Philippines.

I found the pants on a WhatsApp group chat for expatriates like myself. The seller said the several pairs were Banana Republic, bought in the USA (where I’m also from), and either new or barely used.

Critically, they were my size (35 inches in the waist, 36 inches in the inseam), which is hard enough to find back home but virtually impossible in this corner of the planet.

The price was very right — after haggling, P400 a pair.

At our meeting, the seller turned out to be the owner’s wife, Nailya.

Amiable and outgoing, she said that she and her husband Ryder were attached to the US embassy in Manila as USAID officers.

“What a coincidence,” I said. “That’s my old outfit. I worked for USAID.”

Towards the end of the Cold War, I had been a communications officer in Washington, I told her, and later I’d had a contract to advise the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN), of which the Philippines is a member, at its headquarters in Jakarta.

Both jobs were long ago. Nevertheless, I felt an instant kinship with the couple, as one college alumnus would for others of the same institution. 

“But why is he getting rid of the pants?” I asked. 

I divined the answer even before the question was completely out of my mouth: He’d been let go as part of President Trump’s decision to abolish the agency.

“He’s fired, and I’m fired too,” she said with a resignation devoid of self-pity.

And now they were preparing to move, which meant selling many of their personal effects, including her husband’s pants.

Their destination would not be Ryder’s native Texas or anywhere else in the USA. It would be Nailya’s native Kazakhstan. That was where they hoped to reassemble their lives and careers and provide another good home for their young daughter.

I felt profoundly touched by their situation.

It wasn’t just because we were fellow travelers. No, though comfortably retired since 2018, I knew firsthand what it’s like to lose a job — the pain, the fear, the deflation. Beyond that, I knew the good that USAID did for the world’s poorest and the tremendous sacrifices that people like Nailya and Ryder make to advance America’s humanitarian interests. 

At the same time, I felt disgust for Trump’s bad decision to shutter the agency and for Congress’s timid acquiescence. 

I knew that people who depend on American generosity were being severely hurt by Trump’s shortsightedness. Indeed, an article in the medical journal The Lancet estimated that more than 14 million people could die unnecessarily by 2030 because of the cuts.

America’s hard-won image as an altruistic power was being damaged, trust in American promises diminished. Lives were being upended — not least that of the USAID officer whose pants I was about to carry off.

With sympathy and sadness, I paid for the pants and wished her and family a safe journey and a good new beginning. 

Once home, I tried them on. They looked good and fit perfectly.

But my feelings were mixed. I had gained from another’s misfortune.

At the same time, the irony of what had happened became apparent: I was well attired because Trump had decided to be cruel to the naked. 

And then I remembered Nailya’s parting question, which disturbs me even now: “Would you like to see the suits?” – Rappler.com

Timothy A. O’Leary is a retired American journalist and diplomat who lives in Manila. He worked for the US Agency for International Development from 1987 to 1990 in Washington, and again from 2006 to 2007 in Jakarta.