THE streets of Goma, once teeming with the bustle of traders haggling, schoolchildren laughing as they hurried to class, and workers commuting through the dusty roads, have now fallen eerily silent. Where once the vibrant hum of daily life echoed from every corner, there is now a haunting stillness that hangs in the air.

The markets, once crowded with colorful stalls and the scent of fresh produce, are now deserted. Shops remain closed, and the usual chorus of conversations has given way to an unsettling quiet. 

With tensions rising and the fear of violence casting a heavy shadow over the city, Goma stands as a ghost town, its streets stripped of the energy that once defined it. 

The hum of daily life has been replaced by the distant roar of artillery fire, the sharp crack of rifle rounds, and the anguished cries of families torn apart by war.

 What was once a thriving hub of commerce and culture is now a battlefield, held hostage by a conflict that has spiraled out of control. 

As the African Union (AU) scrambles to address the unfolding disaster, the question lingers: Can the continent muster the resolve to bring lasting peace, or will history repeat itself?

The African Union’s Peace and Security Council (PSC) has issued strong condemnations of the violence, calling for immediate ceasefires and an end to foreign interference. 

Yet, while statements flood in from Addis Ababa, the people of Goma continue to suffer. The AU’s credibility is on the line, with its ability to enforce peace being tested like never before. 

It has promised diplomatic interventions, but the crisis demands more than words—it requires action, and fast.

For the people of this besieged city in the Eastern Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), survival has become a desperate gamble.

In just a few weeks, the M23 rebel group has made staggering territorial gains, seizing strategic locations like Minova, Sake, and most critically, Goma itself. 

Fighters in mismatched uniforms patrol the streets, rifles slung over their shoulders, their presence a constant reminder of the city’s grim reality. 

The once-thriving markets are abandoned, their stalls overturned, the scent of rotting food lingering in the air. 

The Aljazeera news reporter said today that, at night, the darkness swallows the city whole, as power outages leave entire districts vulnerable to looters and gunmen.

Austere Malembeka reporting on ITV in Tanzania noted that hospitals, already under strain from years of instability, are now overflowing with casualties.

The wounded arrive in droves—civilians caught in the crossfire, children maimed by stray bullets, mothers clutching their injured babies.

Doctors and nurses, many unpaid for months, work relentlessly with what little they have. Bandages are washed and reused, antiseptics diluted to stretch their use, and in extreme cases, amputations are performed with little more than local anesthetic.

“We do what we can, but we are running out of everything—medicine, food, even cleans water,” says Dr. Jean Kalume, a surgeon at Goma’s central hospital. 

He gestures toward a young boy lying on a bloodstained cot. “He was playing outside when a mortar exploded. His mother is dead. His father? We don’t know.”

The fighting has forced tens of thousands of people to flee their homes, turning roads into rivers of displaced families. 

Some head toward Rwanda, their future uncertain, while others escape into the forests, seeking safety in a region where safety is an illusion.

 Aid agencies, overwhelmed by the scale of the disaster, struggle to provide food, clean water, and shelter to those in need.

“People are sleeping in makeshift camps, under trees, anywhere they can find cover,” says an aid worker with Médecins Sans Frontières. “The conditions are horrific—no sanitation, little food, and the constant threat of further violence.”

The price of survival has skyrocketed. Food is now a luxury. A sack of maize flour, once affordable now costs more than a week’s wages. 

Those who remain in Goma endure a cruel rationing system, where supplies are controlled at gunpoint. Water, once taken for granted, is now a currency of its own. 

“A single bottle of clean water costs more than a meal,” says Aminata, a mother of four. “But what choice do we have?”

As Goma teeters on the brink, the crisis has reignited tensions between the DRC and Rwanda. Kinshasa has long accused Kigali of backing M23, a claim supported by United Nations reports detailing Rwanda’s military involvement. 

Kigali, however, dismisses the accusations as politically motivated. President Félix Tshisekedi has refused to participate in peace talks in Kenya, calling them a “farce” and demanding that Rwanda be held accountable.

The African Union’s Peace and Security Council (PSC), alarmed by the rapid deterioration of the situation, convened an emergency meeting in Addis Ababa on January 28, 2025. 

The Council condemned the M23 offensive and called for an immediate cessation of hostilities. It also urged international actors to stop fueling the conflict through arms supplies and foreign interference.

In a show of solidarity, the AU paid tribute to the soldiers of the DRC Armed Forces (FARDC), the Southern African Development Community (SADC) Mission (SAMIDRC), and the United Nations Stabilisation Mission (MONUSCO), honoring those who have lost their lives in the line of duty.

 The Council also demanded accountability for recent attacks on diplomatic missions in the DRC, warning that such acts could further destabilize an already volatile situation.

While political leaders engage in diplomatic maneuvering, the people of Goma endure yet another chapter in a seemingly endless cycle of war. 

The AU has called for renewed efforts to revive the stalled Luanda and Nairobi peace processes, emphasizing that military solutions will not bring lasting peace. 

Instead, the Council has urged economic empowerment programs that target youth and women, tackling the root causes of the conflict.

The humanitarian toll has drawn the attention of the wider world, but international responses have been largely symbolic. 

Kenya has called for an emergency summit, the United States has urged de-escalation, and Pope Francis has issued a heartfelt plea for peace. Yet, as leaders talk, the war barrels forward.

In Kinshasa, frustration has reached a boiling point. Protests have erupted outside foreign embassies, with demonstrators accusing the international community of watching in silence as Congo burns. “We are tired of being collateral damage,” says one protester. “The world only pays attention when it’s too late.”

For now, Goma’s fate remains uncertain. Will government forces mount a counteroffensive? Will M23 entrench itself further, making the city a new stronghold? Or will the conflict stagnate, leaving Goma in a state of frozen chaos? No one can say for sure.

What is clear is that the people of eastern Congo are once again bearing the brunt of a war not of their making.

 Caught between foreign interests, political calculations, and the ambitions of armed groups, they remain the forgotten victims of a crisis that has dragged on for decades.

As the AU prepares to hold a high-level meeting on the crisis in February, one question lingers: will Africa take bold steps to restore peace, or will Goma become another grim chapter in the DRC’s troubled history?

For those trapped in the city’s crumbling streets, waiting for salvation or more suffering, the answer cannot come soon enough. Each passing hour tightens the grip of despair, sirens wailing like a broken promise. 

Hope flickers in the hollow eyes of the forgotten, but how much longer can they hold on? Will relief come, or will the streets swallow them whole?