The truth about so-called development aid, poverty, and solutions like biogas deserves more than quick quotes. And if we want real change, we need to talk about what’s broken and what could be radically better.
Original Interview here
This is a perfect example of the narrative often told about Africa: “Without us, things fall apart.” Without our help, the continent descends into chaos - or hunger. That’s not just a grim thought, it’s a false one. And this very belief keeps us from changing our behavior and seeing Africa for what it really is.
Let’s talk about hunger: Hunger is not a technical issue you solve with cash or food shipments. Hunger is structural - and aid, as it's currently practiced, often reinforces broken systems rather than fixing them. If stopping aid leads to hunger, then that proves the aid was never sustainable in the first place.
Emergency aid is a different matter. In war zones, for instance, saving lives is non-negotiable. I support a few people in Sudan - currently the site of the world’s worst conflict, where over 26 million people are affected by hunger. But emergency aid has not even seriously been implemented, this war is pretty much neglected.
Worse yet, aid often rewards inaction. Who is actually responsible for water supply or healthcare systems? And what happens when these responsibilities are taken over by outsiders? Many African voices have raised this concern for years - but few in Europe seem to listen.
What we need is a real narrative shift.
100%. Because affordability isn’t about price - it’s about the business model.
In many African regions, people spend huge amounts on cooking energy, even though 85% still cook with wood or charcoal - often the cheapest or only option available. But affordability doesn’t hinge on how much a biogas system costs. It hinges on how the system is embedded in the economy.
Nobody in Europe would build a biogas plant without ensuring they could sell the electricity it generates. Yet in development projects, this happens all the time: a household in Africa receives a donated system—and people assume the problem is solved. Worse, this is often done under the banner of carbon offsetting: we donate a few euros and expect a poor household to compensate for our emissions.
What’s ignored is the household’s actual challenge: too little income. A stove or biogas digester may reduce indoor smoke, but that’s treating a symptom. The root problem—millions cooking with wood because they have no alternative—remains.
After 15 years working in the African biogas sector—without any development aid—I’m convinced that success lies in the business model. Next week, my African colleagues and I will launch a new initiative at the World Biogas Summit that rethinks clean cooking from the ground up.
With our platform BiogasUnite, we’re building a system that provides energy and income. People switching to biogas become part of a climate movement—and in today’s world, that deserves compensation. Biogas users become entrepreneurs—Climate Contractors—who sell gas in backpacks, distribute organic fertilizer, and build an entirely new form of climate action.
Yunus once said: “The difference between rich and poor is opportunity.”
“Caring for” sounds noble—but it’s often the wrong approach. This isn’t about individual misfortunes like illness or accidents. These are deep-rooted, systemic issues that can’t be solved with short-term projects or well-meaning aid.
What the so-called "poorest of the poor" need are functioning systems: energy, employment, rule of law, inclusion—and most importantly: responsibility.
So the real question is not who should care, but who is responsible. And responsibility lies with governments. In the U.S., over 37 million people live below the poverty line—yet no one suggests traditional “development aid” for America. So why do it in Kenya?
With BiogasUnite, we’re creating an example of a radically different approach. We build a working service ecosystem around existing and new biogas plants. We connect users, technicians, gas suppliers, and fertilizer traders on one platform—making sure the systems actually work, day by day.
Instead of letting donated systems rot, we provide repairs, spare parts, gas delivery, fertilizer distribution, and training through a digital network. Biogas users become "Climate Contractors" who earn income and deliver real climate benefits.
And we make it possible for people around the world to directly support these functioning systems—not with charity, but by investing in real local businesses. It’s a transformation: from failed aid to working economies—fueled by responsibility, dignity, and global fairness.
I have many wishes—but if I had to name two major levers, they would be:
We need to stop “taking over” responsibility—and instead recognize and support local leadership.
Aid shouldn’t be about delivering solutions and funding them ourselves. It should be conditional on governments presenting their own well-planned strategies—for energy, waste, health, etc. Often, the problem isn’t lack of knowledge—it’s lack of funding.
There’s no point building a hospital without roads, power, or wastewater treatment. We should flip development cooperation on its head: no more externally-designed projects—only funding for locally initiated, viable, long-term solutions.
And we should also allow African governments to refuse aid—for example, on competition law grounds. That too would be a sign of real sovereignty.
The second, often overlooked point: capital access. Today, it’s nearly impossible to use African funds in trade with Europe. Bank transfers fail, payment systems block transactions, foreign currency is scarce.
If we really want fair trade, we need to make it possible for African entrepreneurs to use their money internationally.
I dream of a kind of currency fund that gives easy access to foreign exchange. Or perhaps crypto currencies could help—because they don’t discriminate and enable global participation.
That would be real innovation—and could spark a whole new wave of self-determined development.
I’ll end with a quote from Muhammad Yunus:
“Alms are the worst form of insult and a degradation of the poor”
Katrin Pütz, 4.7.2025