No place like home: Bearing witness in the DRC

As soon as you set foot in Goma, the scale of displacement is clear and devastating. Security briefings are blunt: murder, kidnapping, and shootings are part of daily life. The risks are so frequent they become part of everyday conversation — a sad reality that highlights the dangers faced by humanitarians.

The CARE office closes early so staff can get home safely. Compounds surrounded by barbed wire, CARE logos mark the cars, and staff check in over the radio before entering. It’s a mix of nostalgia and pride — a reminder of what it means to serve here.

Persistent fighting makes it extremely hard to deliver assistance. The CARE DRC team shared that traveling from Beni to Kirumba — just 125 miles apart — now requires a long detour because of insecurity and roadblocks. Instead of a four-hour trip, staff travel through Uganda and Rwanda, turning the journey into two days and over 1,200 miles. Such isolation affects not just North Kivu, but all of eastern DRC.

The camps are gone: Nowhere to go

When M23 took control of Goma, they ordered all camps for internally displaced people (IDP) dismantled. There were once about 100 camps — now, none remain. The authorities made it clear: they don’t want to see them anymore. Camps that once offered a fragile lifeline are gone, leaving tens of thousands to fend for themselves, invisible in the places they once sought safety.

Some are now hiding with host communities, but we chose not to visit them; being seen could put them at risk.  A few tried to return home, only to find everything destroyed — homes, land, shops. There’s nowhere to go.

Some colleagues were here during the intense fighting and takeover in January. Once Sake, the next town, fell to M23, everyone knew Goma would be next. Imagine living with that fear — knowing your city could fall at any moment. Even now, only a few neighborhoods are less risky, but it’s still highly insecure.

Driving to Sake: The ghosts of camps

Driving from Goma to Sake, you pass places where camps once stood. Empty shelters remain — some permanent, some temporary. People lived here for years, after fleeing their homes multiple times. At short notice, M23 told everyone to leave. Two million people across more than a hundred camps were forced to go. Walking by these empty shelters, you see traces of life: broken sunflowers, doors hanging open. Some tried to make these places home, even briefly. Now they’re gone. At least here, they once had some humanitarian assistance.

Although there are no formal camps, some families whose homes have been destroyed by the fighting now shelter in tents placed in their own or neighbors’ backyards.

Layers of loss in Sake

In Sake, I met many women and community members, each with a story to tell. One young mother shared that she was raped and beaten at 14, just after her first period, and got pregnant because of that rape. Now, still dealing with trauma and repeated displacement, she has had to sell her child’s only garment to buy food. Her words echo the silent cries of so many others living in fear and uncertainty.

Many women told me they had to flee their homes again and again. They used to farm and sell vegetables in their villages. Life wasn’t easy, but they could dream. Then came the fighting, and they had to flee. When the fighting subsided, they risked everything to return home, only to find everything burned — land, seeds, tools — all lost. They returned to crowded, unfamiliar camps, stuck in a cycle of loss with no way to make a living.

CARE’s food assistance in crisis

About 28 million people across the DRC — more than one in four — don’t have enough to eat. In the conflict-affected eastern provinces, over 10 million are struggling with hunger, including 2.3 million experiencing the most extreme levels.

In Sake, I met a young mother holding her daughter. She told me, “We used to have a farm. We ate what we grew and sold the rest.” Now, she is one of the 2.3 million — her story buried in statistics. When we focus only on numbers, we forget the people behind them.

CARE organizes food distributions for displaced families who have run out of resources. While food assistance is a last resort, it is vital to save lives and support communities until longer-term solutions are possible.

Resilience in the face of despair

Many women I met in Village Savings and Loan Association (VSLA) groups have been driven from their homes repeatedly. Despite losing housing and livelihoods, they gather to save money and provide small loans, supporting each other.

They showed me what they make: clothes, baskets, bags, beans, and bread. The quality is good, and they take pride in their work. But as we talk, I see sadness in their eyes. There are few opportunities to sell their goods. Most people have no money. “Who will buy?” they ask. They’re trying, but the situation is against them — another example of how conflict undermines individual effort.

What’s next?

The DRC crisis continues with immense challenges. Armed conflict destroyed more than 1,000 schools in the past year alone, and nearly 25 million people — over a quarter of the population — now need humanitarian assistance.

Women in the DRC, as in other global conflicts, play critical roles supporting their communities amid violence. When I met them, I saw not just survivors but strategists, breadwinners, teachers, and leaders. Despite losing homes and livelihoods, they are rebuilding — not waiting for rescue but asking us to stand with them. Their stories remind us that lasting peace is a human right, not a privilege, and demands urgent, collective action.

As they said, “All we want is peace. The rest we can manage.”

It’s time we match their courage with action — because peace cannot wait.