LIFE for people living under occupation by the Rwanda-backed M23 rebel group, which has seized vast swathes of eastern Democratic Republic of the Congo, has been marked by widespread human rights abuses and economic turmoil.
Yet in the lakeside city of Uvira, suffocating daily pressures and abuses come not from the rebels but from the army and, especially, pro-government militias, who claim to protect the city and fight the M23.
By a journalist in Uvira and Patricia Huon
“Their bombs are affecting the entire population, when they should be aimed at the enemy,” said a local resident whose neighbour lost a child due to stray gunfire two months ago and whose name is being withheld to protect them from reprisals. “We just want peace.”
With more than 700,000 inhabitants and sitting on the border with Burundi, Uvira is the last major stronghold of the Congolese government in South Kivu – one of two provinces that the M23 and Rwandan troops are currently occupying.
For months, fear has hung over the town as residents braced for what many assumed was inevitable: that the M23 would push south and seize the city, triggering more humanitarian upheaval in a conflict that has already displaced millions.
Yet even without the M23’s arrival, residents say life in Uvira has been incredibly difficult, largely due to the presence of pro-government militias known as Wazalendo (“patriots” in Kiswahili), who are drawn from numerous local armed groups.
Wazalendo groups are supposed to act as army reservists and proxies against the M23, yet in Uvira, they have taken over state functions and even clashed with the army, amid mutual accusations of spying for the rebels and abandoning front lines.
The militias are also accused of targeting Uvira’s Banyamulenge population – Congolese Tutsis in South Kivu who are often perceived as supporting the Tutsi-commanded M23 – in acts of harassment and intimidation.
Army personnel have denied any responsibility for managing the conduct of Wazalendo militias, who are also accused of abuses by human rights groups and the UN – even as the military supplies them with weapons and money.
So militarised is Uvira that even without the presence of the M23, a displaced woman – a mother of six who fled to the city in February – said she hears gunfire every night from the makeshift shelter where her family now lives.
“We came here hoping to find peace, but there is no peace,” she said. “We don’t even have tarpaulin sheets. We need plastic bags to build a shelter, and we can only eat if we wash dishes or do laundry for families.”
Taxation and arbitrary arrests
The latest in a long line of Rwanda-backed armed groups, the M23 reactivated its rebellion in late 2021. Its initial aim was to enforce a previous peace deal with the government and protect Tutsi communities, though its ambitions have since expanded.
With support from Rwanda, the group seized eastern DRC’s two largest cities – Goma, the capital of North Kivu, and Bukavu, the capital of South Kivu – in February, marking the culmination of more than three years of fighting.
Attention then shifted south to Uvira, as hundreds of Wazalendo fighters poured into the city – some from Bukavu, others from surrounding hills — ahead of an expected M23 advance.
With the state largely withdrawn and soldiers arriving from Bukavu continuing straight on to Burundi — looting whatever they could along the way — the Wazalendo groups found themselves effectively in charge.
“Until this day, the Wazalendo come to collect their fee, which they call a contribution to the resistance.”
More than a dozen Uvira residents told The New Humanitarian that, at this stage, they welcomed the militias as the city’s last line of defence, conscious of the atrocities that past Rwanda-backed insurgencies had carried out in South Kivu.
However, in the ensuing vacuum, they said Wazalendo forces took over key functions in the city – and have retained them even as state personnel began returning – for example, running a taxation system and at times controlling border crossings.
“Until this day, the Wazalendo come to collect their fee, which they call a contribution to the resistance,” said a government official who works at the port in Uvira and who asked for their name not to be disclosed.
Other residents described the militias inserting themselves into local dispute resolution, including land and neighbourhood conflicts. Still more reported a militia-led policing force that has carried out arbitrary arrests and other abuses.
“For three months, the state was completely absent in Uvira. An alternative was necessary to keep the city standing at the time, but there were abuses,” said a civil society activist. “People were whipped, arrested, and some died in detention.”
The self-proclaimed Wazalendo police chief for South Kivu, General Kimanuka Musasa Nyambwe Nungisa, denied that the militias have implemented a taxation system and said they simply came to defend Uvira when authorities and security services fled.
“When we heard that the authorities – the army and the police – had fled to Burundi, we left the forest and came to defend the city,” he said. He added that life for fighters is far from easy: “We have no food, no rations, we have to take care of ourselves.”
“They beat me with sticks over and over”
Particularly worrying has been the militias’ alleged abuses against Banyamulenge communities, the Congolese Tutsis of Rwandan descent who have lived in South Kivu for many generations.
They have been stigmatised for their perceived association with the M23 and to a Banyamulenge militia called Twirwaneho, which operates in South Kivu and is allied to the rebel group.
“People think that the entire community is associated with the M23,” said a Banyamulenge civil society leader. “This is not true. We remain loyal to our government and to our homeland. However, our authorities must take measures to protect us.”
“Since the war began, the entire population of Uvira has been suffering, but the Banyamulenge community is even more affected,” they added. “Since the capture of Goma, intimidation has increased, and there have been robberies and looting of businesses and homes.”
Other Banyamulenge residents described Wazalendo fighters harassing, threatening, and using physical violence against them, as well as restricting their access to public services. Some described daily fear and said they try to stay at home for their safety.
A Banyamulenge woman who has lived in Uvira her entire life said she was attacked by six Wazalendo fighters — three in plain clothes and three in uniforms — while fetching water at a tap. She said the attackers called them “Rwandans”.
“They beat me with sticks over and over, until I couldn’t even scream anymore,” she said. “Eventually, I managed to escape. Sometimes I don’t even dare to leave my home. They say that killing Banyamulenge is like killing chickens.”
Protests and inflammatory messages
Tensions escalated in September when Wazalendo fighters disrupted the funeral of an army colonel – a Tutsi officer from the region – and his wife (both had died in a plane crash), accusing the deceased’s relatives of collaborating with Rwanda.
Witnesses reported Wazalendo militants declaring, “No ‘Rwandan’ should be buried here on Congolese soil”, while gunfire and artillery shelling nearby killed an eight-year-old boy, according to a neighbour of his relatives.
Also in September, around two weeks after the funeral incident, there were major tensions following the appointment of General Olivier Gasita, who is also a Banyamulenge, to command military operations in Uvira.
Wazalendo fighters, Wazalendo fighters, who see Gasita as responsible for the fall of Bukavu and suspected him – without providing evidence – of M23 ties, paralysed the city for eight days by setting up roadblocks, closing the border into Burundi, and shutting shops and schools.
The fighters also organised demonstrations against Gasita, who ultimately left the city, which turned violent when Congolese military forces fired on unarmed protesters, killing at least one person and wounding several others, including children.
Inflammatory anti-Tutsi messages have also circulated on social media. Some clearly come from Wazalendo, while others have unclear origins. One anonymous audio recording declared: “The real solution in Uvira is the departure of all Tutsis.”
For its part, the Congolese army has carried out raids in search of alleged M23 collaborators, mainly in hotels across the city. These operations have led to arbitrary arrests and contributed to a climate of fear, particularly among Banyamulenge.
The Rwandan government, meanwhile, has increasingly cited anti-Tutsi incidents by Wazelendo groups to justify its support for the M23, portraying the rebel operations as aimed at protecting Tutsi communities.
The Tutsi minority in DRC has faced marginalisation since the country’s independence, and Banyamulenge, in particular, have experienced exclusion, challenges to their citizenship, and targeted violence by militias.
Still, most analysts say the M23 did not rise up recently because of anti-Tutsi attacks, and that Rwanda’s support has far more to do with asserting economic and political influence over areas of eastern DRC it believes it has historic claims to.
Markets disrupted
Other residents of Uvira said daily life is a struggle, with insecurity blocking their access to fields around the city, and market disruptions driving up prices due to the loss of easy connections with M23-controlled Bukavu and Goma.
The city’s weakened state institutions compound these challenges. Residents said a prosecutor’s office is non-functional, courts have been damaged and looted, and local officials continue to spend nights across the border in Burundi for their safety.
“Life goes on, but we feel isolated and let down – it’s almost like being under siege,” said a humanitarian worker who has worked with international medical organisations.
Merchants who still make the effort to bring their goods to Uvira from cities like Goma have to pay taxes at M23, Wazalendo, and military checkpoints.
Robert Mayani, a trader who brings goods across the Burundi–DRC border, said some core local staples are often unavailable. “Some days, it’s hard to find flour, beans, and even dried fish,” he said.
Micheline Mitedongo, who is also a trader, added that merchants who still make the effort to bring their goods to Uvira from cities like Goma have to pay taxes at M23, Wazalendo, and military checkpoints.
“They will therefore have to set a high price to make a profit, but people don’t have money to buy,” said Mitedongo, who sells juices, beans, flour, cooking oil, and other basic items in the city.
Conditions are perhaps worse for those displaced from cities like Bukavu who are living in makeshift camps where heavy rains frequently cause flooding and disease, or with overstretched host families.
“We are completely dependent on our hosts,” said a woman who is staying with her children in a village outside of Uvira, at a distant relative’s house. “There is no work, and the children no longer go to school.”
The woman said she left Bukavu because of fear of the M23. “We fled because we were afraid. They arrest young people, take them who knows where, and sometimes kill them,” she said.
Those fears of the M23 aren’t going away for residents of Uvira, even as the rebels engage in peace talks with the government. Neither, however, are the fears of the militias supposed to be fighting the rebels.
Additional reporting from a second journalist based in Uvira, who asked not to be named. Huon reported from Johannesburg. Edited by Philip Kleinfeld.
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The New Humanitarian puts quality, independent journalism at the service of the millions of people affected by humanitarian crises around the world. Find out more at www.thenewhumanitarian.org.
