DEMOCRATIC REPUBLIC OF CONGO - Heshima winces in pain as he tries to shift his weight, sweat beading on his face. The slight 13-year-old sits on a bed in a tent in the grounds of an overcrowded ...
hospital in Goma city in the east of the Democratic Republic of Congo. Heshima's left leg is a bandaged stump, his stomach is streaked with burn marks, and both of his parents have been killed. A relative, Tantine, tells us who is to blame: M23 rebels - backed by Rwanda and battling the Congolese army, known as the FARDC. The rebels now control the two largest cities in this mineral-rich area, which borders Rwanda. "It was a Sunday," she says. "There was fighting between them and the FARDC. They dropped the bomb, and I lost six members of my family." The M23 portray themselves as freedom fighters, bringing peace and order to a failed state, and a failed leader in Congolese President Félix Tshisekedi. The rebel group, mainly comprised of ethnic Tutsis, has been on the march since early 2022, seizing swathes of territory - with the help of up to 4,000 Rwandan troops. That is according to UN experts who say Rwanda has "de facto control" over the group - claims Kigali and Rwandan President Paul Kagame deny. The price of the M23's gains can be counted at Ndosho Hospital, where Heshima is being treated.
Doctors are struggling to clear a backlog of civilians and soldiers wounded at the end of January, when the rebels took Goma. The M23 say they "liberated" the city. The death toll in the fighting was close to 3,000 people, according to a UN estimate. Four operating rooms are in use - simultaneously - throughout the day and sometimes at night. "It's been a terrible situation for the doctors," says Myriam Favier of the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC), which supports the hospital. The medics have been sleeping in the operating theatres, she says. "Our medical supplies were looted at the very beginning of the escalation of the conflict. And we had an influx that was unseen before - between 100 and 150 patients a day for weeks." That is now down to about 10 admissions per day, according to Ms Favier, and "right now people are just trying to live again". Drive around Goma and the streets hum with motorbikes. Many shops are open, and pavement sellers are back with their piles of onions and avocados and tomatoes. There is little sign of well-armed M23 fighters. They do not stand on street corners. They don't need to. Everyone knows they are in charge.
One local journalist said many in the media are "self- censoring" what they report, waiting to gauge how the new rulers will behave. One activist told me many were "living in a big silence" because of fear of reprisals by the rebels. "This is the most worrying period of Goma's history," he said. "I am afraid, the future is very uncertain." Not according to the M23. "Expect peace, security, development, job creation… a future with zero refugees, zero corruption, zero hunger," Willy Manzi, a newly appointed M23 vice governor who has recently returned from Canada, posted on the social media platform X. But a different message was delivered to tens of thousands of people who have sought refuge from fighting in recent years in a network of camps in Goma.