One could write endlessly about the horrors I witnessed this week in Goma, Eastern DRC. The streets, once filled with life, bore the marks of conflict—bodies being cleared away, bullet casings scattered, and the weight of immense human loss pressing down on a city of two million people. More than 3,000 lives have been lost. Women are raped constantly, no police force in place and prison breaks common place. Children, many orphaned, navigate a world that has turned cruel overnight. The darkness of war is evident.
And yet, amidst the chaos, there is resilience. This past Sunday, most churches in Goma were open, filled with worshippers who refuse to let violence silence their faith. In one orphanage housing over 170 children, the air was filled with song and laughter. Restaurants, against all odds, welcomed guests with the most tasty of meals. This is Goma—where peace and suffering coexist, where hope keeps fighting hopelessness.
But the most urgent takeaway from my visit is the overwhelming need and the sacrificial role the church is playing. One regional ministry is leading a humanitarian effort targeting 500 families—each representing about six people. Yet, this is a drop in the ocean. Millions remain in IDP camps, uncertain if help will ever reach them.
One orphanage director told me, “We are collecting bucket loads of bullets from the streets.” Another, overseeing trauma counseling, remarked, “Our programs are making a difference, but the gospel is bringing the most immediate transformation.”
In one case, authorities serving children in the city desperately sought to place a 12-year-old girl at the orphanage I visited. When asked why they were so insistent, one official explained, “She is being raped almost daily in the IDP camp.”
Yet, in the two churches I visited last Sunday, “Bwana Asifiwe”—Swahili for Praise the Lord, was a phrase repeatedly echoed. The faith of the people in Goma seems unshaken. Even in the face of suffering, one pastor said, they stand firm, believing that God has not abandoned them.
Despite an unconditional ceasefire declared by an alliance of rebel groups that includes the M23, Goma and the larger Eastern part of DRC remains in a precarious condition. On Feb. 16, 2025, the Rwandan-backed M23 rebels captured Bukavu, the second-largest city in Eastern DRC. The UN’s refugee agency estimates that over 400,000 people have been displaced from their homes since the escalation of the conflict at the beginning of 2025.
For the thousands of families and children in Goma, and the neighbouring cities of Bukavu and Bunia, help means this is life or death. And the church should not turn away. The call to return should not be a question of if but when. Because in the midst of war, the gospel is still the greatest hope—and the church remains its most faithful messenger.
