Goma under rebel control: Life in the shadow of violence
January 31, 2026
January 2025 is deeply etched in the collective memory of Goma residents. Late that month, the capital of the eastern Congolese province of North Kivu fell to the AFC-M23 rebel alliance after heavy fighting.
One year later, the city is trying to recover — but the scars of violence remain. Trauma, loss, and economic hardship continue to shape the daily lives of around 900,000 inhabitants there.
A long and complicated conflict
The eastern part of the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) has been one of the most unstable regions in Africa for decades. Armed groups, ethnic tensions, regional power interests, and the struggle for valuable raw materials all compete.
The M23 rebellion is part of this complex conflict. Already active in 2012, the group was eventually crushed militarily, but regained strength in 2021. The Congolese government accuses neighboring Rwanda of supporting the group. Kigali rejects the accusation, but independent observers such as the United Nations have provided evidence of Rwandan backing on several occasions.
January 2025 signaled yet another escalation. Although the Congolese army (FARDC), local militias known as Wazalendo, and the UN's DRC mission MONUSCO were all in and around Goma, M23 fighters managed to take the city by surprise.
The rebels advanced unnoticed from the north, while government troops concentrated further west, toward Sake. Goma was besieged by the rebels and taken within a few hours.
Days of terror
"No one expected it,” Goma resident S'afi Elisee told DW. "There were always a lot of troops here — the Wazalendo, the FARDC, MONUSCO. And then suddenly everything came to a standstill: no economy, no supplies. The banks closed, the Red Cross collected bodies. We were just living in survival mode."
Chaos reigned in the hours and days after the capture of Goma. The International Committee of the Red Cross recovered bodies from several parts of the city and the United Nations reported at least 3,000 deaths. There were also reports of rape and a massive increase in insecurity after prisoners escaped from Munzenze prison.
Many families were trapped in their homes, unable to flee. Water, electricity, and internet were cut off. Goma became isolated from the outside world.
'The situation was extremely complex'
Colette Furaha, 55, remembers exactly the day her life was turned upside down. "Soldiers came and drove us apart. We didn't know where to go," she said. "We stayed here. Then bandits came through the window and stole everything." Her home, once a safe place, became a trap.
It was late on January 27 before some residents ventured out onto the streets in search of water and food, often risking their lives. "The streets were empty, there were bodies everywhere," said Rehema Kazingufu, a mother of several children. "We heard gunshots and grenades above our roofs. Only during a brief lull could we go out to find something to eat so we wouldn't starve."
Even for humanitarian organizations, the situation was initially almost impossible to control. "The Red Cross teams in particular drove through the city with the few ambulances available to collect the bodies," said humanitarian aid worker Mwende Kanane. "The situation was extremely complex. Even in the detention center, there were cases of sexual violence before the prisoners fled."
Separated families, open wounds
Many people were desperately searching for relatives. Archimede Teuteu, now 30, was separated from his brothers during the fighting.
"I headed towards Rwanda while the fighting continued. Without the internet, we knew nothing. Are they still alive?" he said. The UN said that more than 110,000 people fled Goma.
Feza Alimasi searched for her 25-year-old son for a week. "I couldn't eat for seven days," she said. "When he came back alive, it was an indescribable joy. I thanked God — without him, I would never have seen my son again."
Others suffered injuries. Grace Kubuya, a motorcycle taxi driver, was hit by a stray bullet. "I was coming back from Kibati when the bullet hit me in the leg. It was bleeding heavily," he said. Today, he can walk and work again, but the shock remains.
Deceptive normalcy
One year after the rebels took over the city, Goma is no longer in a state of open war. The security situation has improved, markets are open, traffic is flowing and children are going to school. But the economic situation remains difficult, many jobs have disappeared, and the city is still under rebel control.
Psychological consequences are also omnipresent. For many, anxiety is part of everyday life, with local initiatives emerging to provide support that goes beyond politics and weapons.
One such project takes shape once a week, when dozens of people gather to turn the city's black asphalt into a stage. Young dancers from the Balabala Arts Academy perform here free of charge.
Balabala means "street" in a Congolese variant of the Swahili language. The name expresses the organization's mission to bring art directly to the people. These performances cannot be classified within any classical style. With powerful, sweeping movements, they express pain, endurance, and survival.
Souzie Mwisha, a dancer with the collective, describes her motivation: "Everything I do, I do with a lot of energy — to express my feelings: my anger, my pain. And you can see that it works. People stop, watch, react."
The effect is palpable among the audience. "When I see something like this, I let go of my stress," one spectator said. "I forget a little bit about what happened. It gives me joy."
For Bienco Matrix, founder of the Balabala Arts Academy, dance is more than entertainment. "Our performances here on the street are like medicine,” Matrix said. "We call it street therapy. You can't separate art and politics. Everything is connected."
While Goma has now been under rebel control for a year, the young artists are hoping for financial support to expand their work. For many residents, such initiatives are small anchors in an environment that remains uncertain.
This article was originally published in German.