🔗 Share this article

In the early period of the morning, a young boy strolls through the alleys of Goma. He chooses an incorrect path and runs into outlaws. Back home, his father flicks through TV channels while his mother checks bags of flour. Silence prevails. The quiet is broken only by static on the radio.

As night falls, Baraka is positioned on the shore of Lake Kivu, staring south to Bukavu and east towards Rwanda, seeing no promise in either direction.

This is the opening to Baraka and the Unpredictable Life of Goma, the debut comic by a young visual artist, Edizon Musavuli, released earlier this year. The story illustrates common hardships in Goma through the perspective of a child.

Well-known Congolese artists such as Barly Baruti, Fifi Mukuna and Papa Mfumu’Eto, who captured the public’s imagination 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 located in or about the Democratic Republic of the Congo written by Congolese artists.

Creativity offers optimism. It’s something to start with.

“I have been drawing since I could hold a pencil,” Musavuli states of his evolution as an artist. He began to pursue the craft seriously only after finishing high school, registering at a media institute in Nairobi. His studies, however, were halted by monetary constraints.

His first personal display was in January 2020, organised with a cultural institute in Goma. “The event was significant. The response was remarkable how everyone engaged to it,” says Musavuli.

But just a year later, the ruthless M23 militia, aided by Rwanda, resurfaced in eastern DRC and shattered Goma’s delicate art scene.

“Artists in Goma are really dependent on external exhibitions like that,” he says. “If they’re not around, it will feel 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 declined alongside its economy. “Art gives hope, it’s something to start with, but our situation here doesn’t change. So people in Goma are not really invested any more,” says Musavuli.

Artists and creativity have long been relegated to the edges of the state agenda. “We are not something the government values,” he says.

Turning to Instagram, he began sharing individual and shared experiences of Congolese life in the form of cartoons. In one post, recounting his childhood, he titled an interactive story: “Where I'm from, sprinting precedes stepping.”

In one video, which has since received more than 10,000 views, he is seen working on an ongoing painting, while firearms are heard in the background.

Within this environment that Baraka and the Unpredictable Life of Goma was created. The story is filled with political undertones, showing how normal activities have been stripped away and replaced with constant uncertainty.

Yet Musavuli states the short comic was not meant as overt political commentary: “I don't consider myself a political artist or activist though I say what people around me are thinking. That’s how I do my art.”

We might not have power but staying silent is so much worse. If your voice is heard by two people, it’s something.

Inquired about he feels able to express himself freely under rule, he says: “Free expression exists in Congo, but can you remain unharmed after you speak?”

Producing art that appears too negative of M23 or the government can be dangerous, he says: “In Kinshasa it’s normal to talk about everything that’s wrong with the rebels. But in Goma it’s normal to not do that because it’s not secure for you.

“Politically, we are divided from the ‘actual’ Congo,” he says. Unlike other cities in the North and South Kivu provinces of the DRC, Goma remains under full occupation by the M23.

According to Musavuli, some artists have come under duress to create supportive content out of apprehension for their lives. “As a creative with a voice in Goma, the M23 can utilize you, sometimes by force, or the artists make that decision to work with M23,” he says. “The situation is complex to judge. But I cannot permit myself to do something like that.”

If insecurity is one challenge, making a living through the arts is another hurdle. “There's an issue in Congo that people don’t buy art. The majority of the artists here have to do other things to survive.” Musavuli works as a cartoonist for a blog site.

But he adds: “It isn't just about doing art to generate income.”

In spite of the risks and the financial uncertainties, Musavuli says he wants to continue producing work that gives representation to the disenfranchised people of Goma. “Our community is strong – this is not the first time we have been through this.

“Although influence is limited but not doing anything is so much worse. Even if your voice is heard by just two people, it’s something.”

Towards the finish of the comic story, Baraka walks alone down an quiet road, his head held high. “Tomorrow might look exactly the same,” he says, “but I will continue. Believing in better days is already fighting back.”