Goma Under Siege
Families Mourn as Conflict Reshapes Eastern Congo
A Week of Turmoil
GOMA, Democratic Republic of Congo — There is an eerie sense of calm on the border of the Democratic Republic of Congo and Rwanda. Children play in the streets, women return from the market, and young boys dive off rocks into the waters of Lake Kivu.
But just a couple of weeks ago, the scene was drastically different. Thousands of people were sheltering in fear as M23 rebels advanced and captured Goma, the heart of Eastern Congo.
As the crisis escalated, non-governmental organizations, government officials, and expatriates were ordered to evacuate. World Vision was forced to suspend all humanitarian efforts.
“There are not only thousands of people caught in the middle or fleeing this violent conflict, but now we can’t reach the tens of thousands who were previously relying on us for food and other vital support,” said David F. Munkley, Eastern DRC Zonal Director for World Vision. “Key roads surrounding Goma are blocked, and the city’s airport can no longer be used for evacuation or humanitarian efforts.”
The organization has 77 staff members sheltering in place, unable to work due to the volatile security situation.
A Humanitarian’s Personal Loss Amid the Crisis
Frank, a World Vision staff member, lost two family members—Laurianne and Jean-Pierre—when the M23 siege on Goma turned their home into a battleground. His grief echoes that of countless others in the city, where civilians continue to bear the brunt of the ongoing conflict.
According to the latest report from the DRC Red Cross, they had buried over 2,000 bodies, with 900 still awaiting burial in overcrowded morgues.
“The situation we went through was not at all easy. I was personally terrified by the bomb explosions and the gunshots that echoed everywhere,” he said. “However, we did our best to comfort each other in these dark moments. Despite everything, I kept hoping and praying that everything would end well for me and my loved ones.”
Goma’s Outskirts: A Ghost Town
Goma, a city built on fertile land formed by black volcanic mud, has long been a refuge for those displaced by conflict in eastern Congo.
Over 700,000 internally displaced people
Over 700,000 internally displaced people, according to IOM, had sought safety there.
But now, even the sprawling displacement camps on Goma’s outskirts—once filled with white makeshift huts—stand eerily empty.
Long-term Impacts
For Clémentine, 40, who fled Rutshuru with her family, Goma was supposed to be a place of safety. But on a Monday morning, as she prepared rice for her children, the familiar sounds of gunfire shattered that hope.
“We had just settled down when the shooting started,” she recalled. “At first, we thought it would pass like it sometimes does. But then the bombs came.”
The attack came in waves. At first, it was distant gunfire—sporadic, as if warning of what was to come. Then, without warning, the first explosion shook their home. Laurianne, 18, was the first to react, rushing to gather her younger siblings. “Farida, get out of the shower!” she had yelled. The shower was outside, and exposure to open air was dangerous.
Laurianne and Jean-Pierre, her adopted younger brother, had been sitting together moments before. She ushered everyone into the main room, leading them in prayer as the shelling intensified.
“Close your ears,” she whispered, “it’s going to be loud.”
Then suddenly there was no noise. Just dust everywhere. When it cleared, they saw a big light coming through the hole in the roof left by the bomb. When Laurianne lifted her little brother Jean-Pierre to run into the bedroom she saw that he had been hit in the head by a piece of shrapnel. His skull had been pierced. Horrified, she put him down on a chair, grabbed Farida and said, “Come on, let's go into the bedroom.” There were three of them. But as Laurianne tried to cross the threshold, she fell.
Her younger sister Farida shouted: “Sister Laurianne, come on!” They thought she had simply fainted. Then they started calling me, shouting: “Mum, they're dead!”
“As I approached Laurianne, I saw that she had been hit by a shrapnel in the neck.” Clementine shared through tears. “She died in a matter of seconds.”
“When I learned of the deaths of my cousin Laurianne and my little cousin Jean-Pierre, I was completely distraught,” Frank said. “But, because of the insecurity, it was impossible for me to go immediately to the survivors to show them my support. With an unstable connection, it was also very difficult to communicate with them by telephone. In fact, it was only the day after the incident that we were informed of the tragedy.”
Civilians Trapped in the Crossfire
As the conflict between the Congolese army and M23 rebels escalates, civilians remain trapped in its wake. The violence, fueled by longstanding disputes over land, ethnicity, and political control, has forced hundreds of thousands to flee their homes. Clémentine’s family had already been displaced once before, and now war had caught up with them again.
“We left Rutshuru because we had no choice,” she said. “The fighting made it impossible to live there. But coming to Goma didn’t save us.”
Laurianne was more than just the eldest daughter; she was the family’s pillar. Having taken on financial responsibilities after their displacement, she ran a small business selling clothes brought in from Burundi. “She always said, ‘Mum, even when I get married, you will never go hungry,’” Clémentine recalled. She made sure her younger siblings stayed in school and always brought food home.
The family spent the night with Laurianne and Jean-Pierre’s bodies inside their damaged home, unable to move them as fighting raged outside. The roads were impassable, and they couldn’t call an ambulance.
“The roads weren’t safe. We just had to wait,” Clémentine said.
The next morning, around 5 a.m. on Tuesday, some young people from the neighborhood came and carried the bodies to the morgue on a mattress.
The Uncertain Future for Civilians
Farida, Clémentine’s younger daughter, was wounded by shrapnel. Though she is recovering, the emotional scars remain. “She still wakes up at night calling for Laurianne,” Clémentine said. “How do you explain to a child that their sister isn’t coming back?”
In the midst of unspeakable loss, Clémentine finds solace in the small mercies. “In spite of everything, we give thanks to God and to those close to us who support us and give us hope,” she said. “I also have a clear conscience when I think that my daughter took the time to pray just before she died, and that Jean Pierre and she were buried with dignity, thanks to the help of our neighbors and family. Others were not so lucky. Their dead were wrapped in plastic bags before being buried as a group.”
With their home damaged and little means to repair it, Clémentine is left wondering what comes next. “We have nowhere else to go,” she said. “We just want to live in peace.”
Despite the hardship, she remains grateful for the support of neighbors and the strength of her community. “People have helped us when they could,” she said. “Even in times like these, we try to take care of each other.”
For now, Clémentine waits. For aid, for security, and for a day when she will not have to run again. “We just want the fighting to stop,” she said. “We just want to live.”
The Collapse of Humanitarian Aid
When World Vision staff arrived in Goma last week, they found their warehouse—previously stocked with stoves, food, medical kits, and other essentials—ransacked by opportunistic looters. The structure now sits in ruins, empty except for debris and ash.
This looting has reduced the operational capacity of the humanitarian organisation.
“As Goma enters a new era, World Vision is reassessing how to respond,” David Munkley said. “What we once knew as Goma has completely changed.”
World Vision has operated in the Eastern Democratic Republic of Congo since 1984, but now the organization faces an uncertain future. The crisis is worsening as displaced people, once concentrated in Goma and its surroundings, are now scattered across eastern Congo, returning to villages devastated by war.
Despite these dangers, Frank remains committed to his work. “With so many needs to cover, the humanitarian profession is becoming increasingly demanding, especially when it comes to working in very dangerous areas. Despite everything, I love this job because it's a vocation that I've nurtured since I was very young.”
Frank’s resilience extends beyond his work. “The misery that surrounds me on a daily basis in this country drives me to want to help reduce it and bring hope to my community,” he said. “The little I earn in my job, I know how to direct it by sharing it with those in even more difficult situations than mine.”
Now, more than ever, is the time to act because Congo and its people are bleeding.
