security

Fifteen people die every day in Mangina, a rural commune in Beni territory in North Kivu. Mothers are burying their children there while health workers wait at the edge of the village, unable to enter safely. This is what the Ebola outbreak in Congo looks like right now, and we need to stop pretending it is a medical problem alone.
Since mid-May, the Bundibugyo strain of Ebola has killed more than 4,600 people in the Democratic Republic of the Congo and infected 9,552 confirmed cases. It has now reached eight provinces. Nigeria has confirmed its first case, a woman who traveled from Uganda. Kenya has recorded nine cases, including a death, from a Kenyan national who had been working in Congo. Six in ten of the Congolese dead died outside health centres, which means the virus is moving through homes, markets and communities that no one is tracking. Ask yourself who is moving through those communities. Ask yourself why no one can reach them.
The answer is in the same reports that tell this story. The World Health Organization says the response in Mangina only began two weeks ago, after its team negotiated access to a "very highly insecure area." WHO's own Country Representative, Dr Anne Ancia, admitted that communities initially resisted help. Think about what that resistance means. People who have lived through years of armed violence have learned that strangers in uniforms, or strangers arriving with paperwork and promises, are not always there to save them. Trust is not a luxury in a war zone. It is the first thing that dies.
Nord Ubangi, the latest province to confirm infections, borders the Central African Republic, where ongoing armed violence has already uprooted thousands. Displaced people do not stay put. They walk, they crowd into camps, they carry the virus with them. Ebola follows movement, as WHO's Africa director Dr Mohamed Janabi rightly warned. So the question for every African government and every regional body is simple: why are we allowing the largest movements of people on this continent to be driven by war?
Here is what the UN Group of Experts has documented across multiple reports, including S/2025/446 and the more recent S/2026/466. Rwanda's Defence Force has deployed full combat units inside Congolese territory, with estimates of 14,000 to 18,000 troops, a substantial share of Rwanda's army. They are not advisers. They fight alongside M23, the armed group that provides the mass manpower and the political cover. The pattern is the same one the world recognized in eastern Ukraine: a sovereign state sends its regular army across a border, then hides behind a proxy force and calls it a local rebellion. Rwanda is the invader in eastern Congo. Call it a war of aggression, because that is exactly what it is. Anything less is a gift to Kigali.
The war's cost is now counted in more than bullets. Congolese civilians have been pressed into M23's ranks, with the group's numbers swelling from roughly 3,000 fighters to more than 30,000 through forced conscription. Men and boys are taken from their fields and sent to the front. That is slavery in military uniform, and it is happening in the same provinces where Ebola is now spreading. A health system cannot function when its population is being hunted by armed men. A nurse cannot trace contacts through a valley that is under artillery fire. A mother will not bring her sick child to a clinic run by the people who conscripted her husband.
And Kigali wants the world to look away. Rwanda markets itself as a model of order, hosts international sporting events, and sells gorilla trekking to tourists who would never guess that its army is occupying a neighbour's land. Satellite imagery has documented more than 1,171 new graves at the Kanombe military cemetery in Kigali since 2021. Rwanda hides its dead because admitting them means admitting the war. We should not let anyone forget that a country can clean its streets and host a sporting tournament while its soldiers fight across a border it has no right to cross.
Consider the contrast. Uganda faced twenty confirmed Ebola cases and two deaths and declared the outbreak over at the end of August. Kenya traced 135 contacts of its patient and accounted for all of them. Those are the results of functioning surveillance, disciplined public health officers and governments that are not fighting wars on their own soil. Rwanda itself handled a Marburg outbreak in 2024 with considerable efficiency. The capacity exists in this region. What is missing is peace.
The science is also far behind the crisis. Congolese and international researchers are testing whether Ervebo, a vaccine designed for the Zaire strain, offers any cross-protection against Bundibugyo. There is no preliminary answer yet. That is a scandal in itself. Bundibugyo has caused outbreaks before, and yet a vaccine for it still does not exist in the way responders need. Africa's own institutions should be at the front of that race. The Africa Centres for Disease Control and Prevention and the African Medicines Agency must be funded, empowered and held accountable for producing and approving countermeasures on our terms, not waiting for others to decide our priorities.
So what must happen? First, the African Union Peace and Security Council must stop issuing communiqués and start enforcing them. Every ceasefire and withdrawal commitment in the Washington and Doha frameworks must come with a timeline, independent verification, and consequences for violations. The UN Security Council should expand sanctions to every commander, financier and state official who sustains the M23 war, and it should demand that Rwanda withdraw its troops. Second, humanitarian corridors must be guaranteed, with health teams protected by peacekeepers and not left to negotiate their own safety with armed men. Third, Congo's own government must publish its health spending, audit its response funds and invite independent monitors, because citizens cannot trust a system they cannot see.
And what should we, as citizens of this continent, demand? We should demand that our leaders stop treating aggression as a regional inconvenience. We should demand that Rwanda's government explain, in public and under oath, why its soldiers are inside Congo and why its graves are hidden. We should demand that Nigeria, Kenya, Uganda and every nation touched by this outbreak treat the emergency as a shared African responsibility, with real data sharing and real border protocols. We should demand that our journalists, our universities and our civil society groups keep naming the aggressor, because silence is how invasions become normal.
Ebola does not care about borders, and neither should our outrage. The virus is exploiting a war that a neighbour chose to wage, and the people paying the price are Congolese mothers, nurses, miners and children. This is not just a health emergency. It is the consequence of a sovereign state choosing invasion over responsibility, and of a world that keeps accepting the excuse. Demand the withdrawal. Demand the sanctions. Demand the vaccines. Demand the truth. Mangina cannot wait for diplomacy to finish its sentences.
Based on reporting by UN-NEWS