'I'm from where you learn to run before you can walk': this cartoonist sharing the story of the Democratic Republic of Congo's struggles
Throughout the initial period of the morning, Baraka strolls through the roads of Goma. He makes a mistaken turn and meets outlaws. In his household, his father scrolls through TV channels while his mother checks bags of flour. No one speaks. The stillness is shattered only by crackles on the radio.
When dusk arrives, Baraka is positioned on the shore of Lake Kivu, gazing south to Bukavu and east towards Rwanda, discovering no hope in either direction.
Here begins the beginning to Baraka and the Unpredictable Life of Goma, the first comic by a emerging visual artist, Edizon Musavuli, published earlier this year. The story illustrates common hardships in Goma through the viewpoint of a child.
Prominent Congolese artists such as Barly Baruti, Fifi Mukuna and Papa Mfumu’Eto, who grasped the public’s attention in comic strips in the past, primarily worked abroad or in Kinshasa, a city more than a thousand miles from Goma. But there are scarce contemporary comics set in or about the Democratic Republic of the Congo written by Congolese artists.
Art gives hope. It’s something to start with.
“My art journey started since I could hold a pencil,” Musavuli says of his journey as an artist. He began to follow the craft seriously only after finishing high school, enrolling at a media institute in Nairobi. His studies, however, were cut short by monetary constraints.
His first personal display was in January 2020, arranged with a cultural institute in Goma. “It stood as a major display. The response was remarkable how everyone responded to it,” says Musavuli.
But just a year later, the brutal M23 militia, aided by Rwanda, returned in eastern DRC and shattered Goma’s vulnerable art scene.
“Local illustrators are really dependent on external exhibitions like that,” he says. “In their absence, it will seem like we don’t exist. That is the current situation right now.”
When M23 took over Goma in January this year, the city’s cultural hubs faltered alongside its economy. “Expression fosters optimism, it’s something to start with, but our reality here doesn’t change. So people in Goma are not really interested any more,” says Musavuli.
Creators and expression have long been consigned to the margins of the state agenda. “We are not something the government values,” he says.
Using Instagram, he began disseminating private and public experiences of Congolese life in the form of cartoons. In one post, narrating his childhood, he captioned an interactive story: “My homeland teaches running before walking.”
In one video, which has since received more than 10,000 views, he is seen working on an ongoing painting, while gunshots are heard in the background.
It was against this backdrop that this visual story was created. The story is filled with political undertones, highlighting how daily life have been eroded and replaced with perpetual insecurity.
Yet Musavuli states the short comic was not meant as direct political commentary: “I don't consider myself a political artist or activist though I say what people around me are thinking. This is the way I do my art.”
Although we lack influence but inaction is so much worse. When someone hears you, it’s something.
Asked whether he feels able to express himself freely under occupation, he says: “People can speak openly in Congo, but can you remain unharmed after you speak?”
Creating art that appears too negative of M23 or the government can be perilous, he says: “In Kinshasa it’s common to talk about everything that’s wrong with the rebels. But in Goma it’s standard to not do that because it’s not secure for you.
“From an administrative perspective, we are cut off from the ‘actual’ Congo,” he says. Unlike other cities in the North and South Kivu provinces of the DRC, Goma remains under full control by the M23.
According to Musavuli, some artists have come under pressure to create supportive content out of apprehension for their lives. “For those with talent with a voice in Goma, the M23 can utilize you, sometimes by intimidation, or the artists make that decision to work with M23,” he says. “It’s complicated to judge. But I cannot let myself to do something like that.”
Although instability is one challenge, earning an income through the arts is another obstacle. “It’s a problem in Congo that people don’t buy art. The majority of the artists here have to do other things to get by.” Musavuli works as a cartoonist for a digital outlet.
But he adds: “It isn't just about doing art to sell it.”
Despite the risks and the financial uncertainties, Musavuli says he wants to continue creating work that gives voice to the overlooked people of Goma. “We are a resilient population – this is not the first time we have been through this.
“Although influence is limited but staying passive is so much worse. Though your voice is heard by just two people, it’s something.”
In the conclusion of the comic story, Baraka walks alone down an deserted road, his head held high. “The future could appear exactly the same,” he says, “but I persist moving. Holding on to hope is already fighting back.”