Congo’s quiet collapse devastates
A long way from the capital Kinshasa, this rural province in northwestern DRC is slowly falling apart
Far from the international spotlight, the Democratic Republic of Congo’s (DRC’s) crisis is silently suffocating its citizens. On a humid morning in Mbandaka — the crumbling provincial capital of the densely forested Équateur province in the DRC — 50-year-old Jerome Bokele sits on a broken wooden chair in the courtyard of his small breezeblock compound.
Bokele is the province’s first and only parliamentarian from the indigenous and routinely marginalised Batwa pygmy minority. As such, he’s something of a local celebrity.
But, like other politicians in Équateur’s provincial assembly, which in the past two years has been crippled by factionalism and infighting, Bokele says he has not received his government salary for more than six months.
“Some days I can’t even pay for public transport to get to the provincial assembly,” Bokele says, motioning towards a group of motorbike taxi drivers waiting for patrons by a ramshackle row of market stalls on the corner of the block.
Mitterand Bafango (27) is one of these young chauffeurs, plying his trade across the potholed roads and rutted dirt tracks that bisect Mbandaka — a river port city with a failing economy once built on shipping, agriculture and forestry.
In the past two months, Bafango has seen fuel prices more than double from 1900 Congolese francs a litre (about $1.20) to about 4000 Congolese francs (about $2.50).
These drastic hikes are the result of a nationwide fuel shortage caused by the depreciation of the Congolese franc against the United States dollar, which is used to purchase oil.
For Bafango, this has severely dented his already meagre earnings, as many locals are simply unable to afford a rate increase that would help Bafango to compensate for his exorbitantly elevated fuel expenditure. “It’s very hard to make enough money to even eat nowadays.”
Not a priority
Ever since DRC President Joseph Kabila refused to step down at the end of his two-term limit in December last year, the country has been thrust into a renewed period of uncertainty. This is being felt acutely by Congolese citizens like Bafango.
The situation will probably deteriorate further in coming months: at the beginning of November, eagerly anticipated elections were pushed back to December next year, contravening an accord brokered by the Catholic Church last New Year’s Eve. The accord was supposed to guarantee the election of a new head of state this year.
The ongoing political impasse and its effect on an already creaking economy has sparked sporadic protests in a number of the country’s towns and cities, including Mbandaka. These have been routinely met by a violent state response, leaving scores of protesters dead.
Meanwhile, rebel militias have resurfaced in the long-afflicted Kivu provinces in the east, and a bloody conflict in central Kasai has claimed more than 3000 lives and uprooted more than 1.5-million people.
According to Danny Molongi, project co-ordinator for an Mbandakabased human rights organisation called Gashe, the plight of citizens in Équateur is being ignored as a result of these more headline-grabbing crises in other areas of the country.
“There are issues everywhere, so I think the state and the international humanitarian community are overloaded and the various problems in our province are just not a priority,” Molongi says.
He adds that “Équateur has a history of being neglected”, citing the province’s desperately inadequate transport links with other parts of the country as a contributing factor.
Local journalist Guy N’djali says Équateur’s reputation as an anti-government stronghold has also resulted in years of state neglect.
Just down the street from Molongi’s small office, N’djali points out a large, smiling mural of former rebel warlord Jean-Pierre Bemba, a native of Équateur, emblazoned on the wall of a local radio station.
“Bemba is certainly still very popular here,” N’djali says.
Violent past, uncertain future
Équateur’s isolation may to some extent have helped to stymie the violent unrest spreading through other parts of the country, but Bemba’s legacy shows that conflict would not be unprecedented in the region.
During the Congolese War of 1998 to 2003 — which claimed an estimated 5.4-million lives — Bemba’s Uganda-backed rebel army controlled most of Équateur, from where it engaged in a number of skirmishes with government troops that left towns and villages in tatters.
More recently, in 2009 and 2010, a long-running dispute over fishing rights spiralled into a widespread ethnic conflict that pushed more than 200000 refugees into neighbouring Republic of Congo.
There are worrying signs that Équateur is teetering on the edge of another conflict.
In June this year, the interim chief of Monusco (the United Nations mission in the DRC) in Mbandaka, Colonel Lamine Komara, announced that the body would begin community policing training in response to what he called “growing insecurity” in the city.
The overstretched and underresourced police department has attributed such insecurity to a roving group of bandits called the Kuluna. The group is said to be behind a spate of murders, rapes and armed robberies across Mbandaka and on nearby stretches of the Congo River, which serves as the city’s western boundary and its main transport link to the country’s capital, Kinshasa.
At the end of October, interim provincial governor Jeannine Intombi initiated daily joint military and police patrols across Mbandaka after the killing of a state official, allegedly by the Kuluna.
Bokele, the Batwa parliamentarian, says the police’s failure to suppress the bandits has led to reprisal attacks and lynching of suspected Kuluna members by rag-tag vigilante groups. Bokele adds that some locals are worried such tit-for-tat could lead to a “small civil war” in Mbandaka.
On the margins
But Bokele is more concerned with the cause of Batwa Pygmy communities living in impoverished settlements that have mushroomed on the fringes of Mbandaka.
“We Pygmies are being treated like animals and no one is paying attention,” Bokele says.
A proposition for the protection of Pygmy rights was approved by the DRC’s National Assembly in 2014 but is yet to be implemented, says Gashe’s Molongi, reiterating that “other problems are being prioritised by the government”.
Hit hard by decades of conflict and forced off their ancestral forest lands by rapid population growth and poorly regulated industrial logging, the Batwa have been relegated to the margins of Mbandaka’s society. There, they are cut off from healthcare and education by the rising cost of living and ever-shrinking job prospects.
“Congo’s indigenous people have always been very attached to and dependent on the forest, so when they leave the forest, they become very vulnerable,” says Molongi.
As the most marginalised group in Équateur, Pygmies increasingly bear the brunt of the province’s insidious slide into political and economic collapse.
Outside a lopsided, cracked mudbrick house in the Batwa settlement of Nkoli Nkoli, 17-year-old Pembe Bakamba says she had to stop attending secondary school in 2015 because her parents could no longer afford her fees. That same year, her elder brother died from an undiagnosed illness because the family lacked the means to send him to hospital in Mbandaka; there is no school or clinic in Nkoli Nkoli.
“I want to go back to studying so that one day I can become a teacher
“The state has never really been capable of meeting the need, and nowadays even less so”