Violence returns
The violence in Djugu in the spring was predominantly carried out by ethnic Lendu attackers against minority Hema civilians — seemingly to sow terror and drive them from the region. But the current campaign follows different patterns.“The new face of violence is that of a well-organized armed structure of combatants, capable of attacking soldiers at any moment, with the goal of collecting weapons and ammunition,” reads the the Parliamentary Caucus of Ituri Province fact sheet.In October, a parliamentary commission, comprised of 16 elected officials from Ituri, conducted a fact-finding mission on the region’s security situation. The commission concluded that the violence was evidence of a new “rebellion” in Ituri. And many local leaders and experts believe the current outbreak is yet another government-orchestrated effort to sow chaos in the region.Human Rights Watch spoke to three assailants who participated in Ituri's wave of attacks this spring, who said they believed their local chiefs were taking orders from "higher-level government officials," said Ida Sawyer, deputy director of Human Rights Watch's Africa division, told VICE News.“They said they were waiting for new orders to begin the attacks again,” Sawyer said, adding that it remains “unclear whether the assailants involved in the violence earlier this year have played a role in the fighting since September.”“The new face of violence is that of a well-organized armed structure of combatants, capable of attacking soldiers at any moment.”
President of the Democratic Republic of the Congo Joseph Kabila Kabange addresses the 73rd session of the United Nations General Assembly Tuesday, Sept. 25, 2018, at the United Nations headquarters. (AP Photo/Frank Franklin II)
America first, Congo last
In this photo taken Aug.11, 2016, a security guard closes the gate of the UN compound in the Congo Ituri province capital Bunia. (AP Photo/Jerome Delay)
President Kabila has also taken aim at the UN peacekeeping mission, renewing his call — before the United Nations General Assembly in September — for the withdrawal of MONUSCO, noting that the “economic, security, and political signals” coming from Congo were “so encouraging.” Kabila has shunned outside assistance ahead of the vote.“The Congolese government has rejected international involvement and oversight of elections, including logistical support that MONUSCO was prepared to offer,” CIVIC’s Spink told VICE News.Still, peacekeeping efforts are under fire for their perceived failures ahead of the vote. UN troops were not deployed in significant numbers to recent political rallies where security forces fired on peaceful opposition supporters, according to local observers. And human rights monitors worry that UN peacekeepers may not be adequately deployed to handle further violence as the vote nears.“It’s critical for UN peacekeepers to play a more active role in protecting those at risk of abuses in the context of the upcoming elections, including by deploying patrols to known flashpoints for potential violence,” said HRW’s Sawyer.“It’s critical for UN peacekeepers to play a more active role in protecting those at risk of abuses in the context of the upcoming elections.”
Stuck in despair
Thousands of Congolese fled over the border to Uganda this spring, after an outbreak of violence emptied out whole villages in the eastern Ituri province. (Henry Wasswa/AP)
The Famine Early Warning Systems Network projects that “crisis” levels of acute food insecurity will affect parts of Ituri, including Djugu, through at least May 2019. “Food insecurity is mostly related to mass displacement due to conflict,” Kimberly Bennett of the Norwegian Refugee Council (NRC) told VICE News. Violence and privation has been compounded by an Ebola outbreak that has led to 505 cases of the disease, including 296 deaths, in Ituri and North Kivu Province.When I last saw Birwinyo Rehema, she was lying in her hospital bed, the cut across her throat stitched closed, her left eye swollen, as she gasped, while spitting constantly into a plastic bottle. Her parents told me she was like this all day, every day. I watched as they tried rubbing her chest and also covering her face with a cloth, both of which seemed to only make things worse. Eventually, we managed to prop her up, which seemed to provide her with a bit of relief. But Birwinyo Rehema had a long and uncertain road ahead of her. Her parents worried about what might happen when they’re forced to leave the hospital for a nearby IDP camp.“I don’t know what we’re going to do,” Rehema’s mother lamented, contemplating how to take care of her gravely injured daughter in the weeks and months ahead. Today, many Congolese are grappling with a similar sense of uncertainty, as their hope for a free election once again appears under threat.——————Nick Turse is an award-winning investigative journalist who has written for the New York Times, the Los Angeles Times, and The Nation, and is a contributing writer for the Intercept. He's reported on DRC for Vice News and the The Investigative Fund of the Nation Institute for the past year.“They live under plastic sheeting.”