In eastern Democratic Republic of the Congo, the Ebola outbreak is still far from under control. To date, 377 people have lost their lives and 1,307 cases of infection have been detected. Paradoxically, for many residents, life goes on despite everything. But how can people continue to live relatively normally when a deadly epidemic looms over their daily lives? In Bunia, Ines Banzi Kabeya of Search for Common Ground describes her daily life in the midst of this crisis.
Since May, I have been living in Bunia with my children, in a city where the Ebola outbreak has rapidly changed daily life. My arrival here coincided with the announcement of the Ebola outbreak in the region. From the very beginning, I understood that this was not just a disease in the medical sense, but also a profound crisis marked by fear and confusion.
Very quickly, I observed that the population was not only facing the outbreak itself, but also a climate of widespread mistrust. Many people doubt the reality of the disease or question the responses provided by certain authorities and medical actors. The government has been unable to put an end to the incessant conflicts, and international institutions inspire little confidence. This reinforces the belief that foreign interventions primarily serve the interests of others. Rumors spread quickly, and this misinformation complicates the implementation of preventive measures.
At the same time, another problem has emerged: a shortage of medical staff, particularly in pediatric and gynecological departments. Some healthcare workers are also in quarantine, making access to specialized care very difficult. For me, as for many other mothers here, it has become complicated—even worrisome—to see a pediatrician for my child, for example.
In this context, the fear of getting sick is constant, because we know that access to specialized care isn’t guaranteed. The situation we’re living in is psychologically taxing. I’m not the only one constantly monitoring my own body, because at the slightest change, the fear can arise that I’ve been infected and will get sick. I assure you, this constant vigilance is very exhausting.
Despite the difficulties, life goes on. Many preventive measures have gradually become part of our daily routines. Every day, I go to work. In my role, I support awareness campaigns—particularly on the radio—addressing rumors, misinformation, and the real consequences of the disease. Through Search for Common Ground, we work with partner radio stations, and I’m grateful to be able to do my part to raise awareness and build resilience among local communities.
In Bunia, residents have learned to live with uncertainty, though this hasn’t erased the scars left by successive crises. Many families remain scarred by the conflicts: repeated displacement and loss of livelihoods. In this context, securing food remains a daily priority, and fatigue is widespread. Community initiatives, such as radio, therefore seek to reestablish dialogue and connections in a fragile environment. In this hard-hit region, rebuilding trust seems almost as essential as resolving the crises themselves.
This article was originally published in French for La Libre.
