Washington, DC — It was raining and the sky, a dull slate, pressed low over Washington, DC, as if the weight of what was happening inside the Ronald Reagan Building was too much for it to hold.

One by one, they came out — some wheeling suitcases, others clutching cardboard boxes, a few with just a single grocery bag filled with the remnants of their long careers at United States Agency for International Development (USAID).

David Klein, who had spent more than 10 years with USAID, stood at the entrance for a moment, taking in the scene before stepping into the drizzle. "Fifteen minutes," he said, shaking his head. "Fifteen minutes to pack up a lifetime's work."

He adjusted the straps of his backpack, the only thing he'd bothered to take. His office, like so many others, had been filled with reports on maternal health, on clean water initiatives in South Sudan, and on crisis response strategies.

The cuts had come swiftly.

Just weeks earlier, the Trump administration had conducted an aggressive review of foreign aid, determining that over 90 percent of USAID-funded programmes no longer aligned with the "America First" agenda.

Overnight, projects combating HIV, maternal mortality, and food insecurity were stripped of funding. The US Supreme Court had refused to intervene, and now the agency was being dismantled, its employees dismissed.

'Aid isn't charity'

A line of demonstrators had formed across Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington, DC, some holding signs, others simply clapping for each worker who emerged. "You mattered," one sign read.

A woman in a red rain jacket, a former programme director for refugee assistance, stopped and stared at it. "It doesn't feel like we did," she said, her voice raw. "We were told this morning that our badges had been deactivated."

Nearby, security guards stood in pairs, watching the exits.

USAID employees had been given their designated time slots to retrieve their belongings. Some had left notes on their desks, farewell messages to coworkers who might never get the chance to say goodbye.

Others had simply walked away, leaving everything behind.

Michael F, who had worked on infectious disease prevention, spoke with the exhaustion of a man who had spent weeks fighting the inevitable. "Aid isn't charity. It's prevention," he told TRT World.

'I don't know what to say to anyone anymore'

USAID, established in 1961, had survived the Cold War, budget cuts, shifting political landscapes. Even under administrations that viewed foreign aid with scepticism, the agency had remained. Until now.

Outside the building, some former employees stood, watching the scene unfold. "It wasn't supposed to happen like this," one murmured. He had seen shutdowns before —temporary ones. But never a dismantling.

Across the street, the crowd clapped again as a woman emerged, carrying a framed photograph of a team she had once led. She turned it over and pressed it to her chest.

Jasmine Okafor, who had overseen an African food security project, stopped beside the crowd, blinking against the rain. "I used to tell the communities and their leadership (who we worked with) that America has their back," she told TRT World.

"I don't know what to say to anyone anymore."