
The proliferation of Wazalendo combatants in eastern Democratic Republic of Congo has also led to escalating criminality and insecurity, especially in and around the city of Goma. The provincial capital of North Kivu is close to Sake and has taken in some 700,000 displaced people over the last two years.
Thousands of Wazalendo fighters have moved to protect Goma from a M23 takeover, yet they are carrying out robberies, shootings, extortion and rapes within the city and in the surrounding areas. President Tshisekedi, who ordered peacekeepers from the East African Community and the United Nations (Monusco), out of the rebelled-controlled east, is out of his wits in the government’s push to drive out Rwanda-supported M23 militia.
“There are gunshots every night,” said a politician in Goma who is a member of Tshisekedi’s ruling party but disapproves of the collaboration with militia groups. The politician’s name is not being used to protect them from reprisals.
“We were supposed to neutralise the armed groups who have now become our allies,” the politician said, referring to a recent disarmament and demobilisation programme that was intended to take guns away from militia and rebel groups.
A woman living in a displacement camp north of Goma said she was recently raped by armed men while travelling to collect firewood in a forest with a group of four other women. Three were able to escape, but she didn’t have the strength to run, she said.
“I tried to resist, they hit me, then they raped me,” said the woman, whose name is not being used out of respect for her confidentiality. The woman said the assault was the second she has experienced this year in the forest, but she expects to return because there is no food in her camp.
The woman did not name the group responsible for either attack, but Wazalendo and government soldiers are present in and around the camps and both have been accused of many similar offences.
Outside of Goma, Wazalendo groups have used their newfound legitimacy to increase their revenue-raising activities, setting up roadblocks in the areas they control where trucks, motorbikes and pedestrians must pay taxes to get through.
Several Wazalendo commanders have accumulated enough wealth to buy land and build houses in Goma, according to residents of the city that live in neighbourhoods where purchases have been made.
Meanwhile, foot soldiers of local militias say they are struggling to survive for lack of food. “Nothing was left for us,” said a 15-year-old girl who spent a year and half with the FDLR and had to hand over all the taxes she had collected to a colonel.
The FDLR is not part of the Wazalendo grouping although it has received support from the army to fight the M23. The group has also been involved in the illicit trade of natural resources in parts of North Kivu for many years. The current war has given them more freedom to expand their activities, according to the UN and media reports.
The M23 and Rwanda have been critical of the Congolese army’s collaboration with the FDLR and other Wazalendo groups, accusing them of targeting Congolese Tutsi, thousands of whom have sought refuge in camps in Goma and Rwanda.
However, independent researchers have pointed out that these collaborations were activated by the army as a strategy to combat the M23 insurgency, and were not what triggered the rebellion.
Congolese analysts who spoke to The New Humanitarian said they worry that Kinshasa’s support for local armed groups could result in many future security problems.
“These are ethnic militias that still have their own interests as a priority, and they now have an even bigger feeling of impunity,” said Onesphore Sematumba, a researcher for the International Crisis Group. “How could the heroes of today ever be judged as criminals tomorrow?”
Adolphe Agenonga from the University of Kisangani described the Wazalendo as a “ticking time bomb” and said the support they have received has undermined the government’s recent efforts to launch a demobilisation programme for rebels.
“It’s not just a matter of distributing a few goats and bicycles. There is a need for development, for professional training, and transitional justice within communities,” says Lwambo Mupfuni, youth leader and former APCLS member who has worked on disarmament programmes.
“Is there even a will to demobilise them when they have been legitimised by the authorities and are currently wearing the same uniforms as the army?” Agenonga said.
Many Wazalendo groups have expectations that they will be rewarded by the government for their loyalty, including by being given permanent positions within the military.
Ndagendange, the APCLS spokesperson, said he wants the group to act as “a military reserve force”, although with fighters stationed in the area they currently operate rather than being moved around.
The government’s policy is to oppose the wholesale integration of armed groups into the army – a position taken to avoid rewarding and incentivising rebellions – yet given its need to keep the Wazalendo close, it is unclear if this will remain its stance.
If renewed efforts are made to demobilise Wazalendo and other groups, the government will need to improve on past schemes that failed to provide durable livelihoods for fighters or address the political factors that drew them into armed groups.
“It’s not just a matter of distributing a few goats and bicycles,” said Lwambo Mupfuni, a youth leader and former APCLS member who has worked on disarmament programmes. “There is a need for development, for professional training and transitional justice within communities.”
Mupfuni said he had spoken to certain Wazalendo commanders about them letting go of the children but always faces the same dilemma: “If I take them out, where are they supposed to go?”
As things stand, Wazalendo groups have proved incapable of weakening the M23 and their Rwandan allies. Violent internal disputes and clashes between factions and with army soldiers – often fuelled by alcohol – happen frequently and haven’t helped.
Meanwhile, many of the Wazalendo fighters are being maimed on the battlefield because they are fighting without protective equipment, said Abdou Rahamane Sidibe, a surgeon with the ICRC.
“We see more abdominal injuries than in conflicts where soldiers usually wear a flak jacket,” said Sidibe, who works in a hospital in Goma that has been seeing newly wounded people arriving every day.
Abubakar, the 27-year-old Wazalendo combatant, said the deaths, injuries and lack of support from the government won’t stop new recruits from joining the fighting. “It’s mostly the young ones,” he said. “They don’t have a family to take care of; they have no fear.”
- The New Humanitarian report