'I'm from where you learn to run before you can walk': the comic strip artist telling the tale of the Democratic Republic of Congo's struggles

During the first moments of the morning, Baraka strolls through the alleys of Goma. He takes a wrong turn and encounters thieves. At his residence, his father scrolls through TV channels while his mother tallies bags of flour. Silence prevails. The stillness is shattered only by static on the radio.

By evening, Baraka is sitting on the shore of Lake Kivu, gazing south to Bukavu and east towards Rwanda, finding no promise in either direction.

Here begins the beginning to Baraka and the Unpredictable Life of Goma, the first comic by a emerging visual artist, Edizon Musavuli, shared earlier this year. The story depicts everyday struggles in Goma through the viewpoint of a child.

Well-known Congolese artists such as Barly Baruti, Fifi Mukuna and Papa Mfumu’Eto, who captured the public’s attention in comic strips in the past, mainly worked abroad or in Kinshasa, a city more than a thousand miles from Goma. But there are few contemporary comics located in or about the Democratic Republic of the Congo created by Congolese artists.

Expression provides light. It's a beginning.

“I have been drawing since I could hold a pencil,” Musavuli states of his journey as an artist. He began to engage in the craft dedicatedly only after finishing high school, joining at a media institute in Nairobi. His studies, however, were halted by financial difficulties.

His first individual showcase was in January 2020, curated with a cultural institute in Goma. “The event was significant. And it was impressive how everyone reacted to it,” says Musavuli.

But just a year later, the violent M23 militia, aided by Rwanda, returned in eastern DRC and disrupted Goma’s vulnerable art scene.

“Artists in Goma are really dependent on external exhibitions like that,” he says. “In their absence, it will seem like we don’t exist. That is the current situation right now.”

When M23 took over Goma in January this year, the city’s artistic venues declined alongside its economy. “Creativity inspires, it offers a beginning, but our circumstances here doesn’t change. So people in Goma are not really engaged any more,” says Musavuli.

Artists and creativity have long been pushed to the edges of the state agenda. “Art is not something the government prioritises,” he says.

Using Instagram, he began sharing private and public experiences of Congolese life in the form of cartoons. In one post, describing his childhood, he titled an interactive story: “I’m from where you learn to run before you walk.”

In one reel, which has since attracted more than 10,000 views, he is seen working on an unfinished painting, while gunshots are heard in the background.

It was against this backdrop that the comic narrative was created. The story is charged with social commentary, highlighting how daily life have been removed and replaced with ongoing instability.

Yet Musavuli maintains the short comic was not meant as overt political commentary: “I’m not really a political artist or activist however I say what people around me are thinking. This is the way 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.

Asked whether he feels able to express himself freely under control, he says: “There is freedom of speech in Congo, but can you remain unharmed after you speak?”

Making art that appears too oppositional of M23 or the government can be perilous, he says: “In Kinshasa it’s acceptable to talk about everything that’s wrong with the rebels. But in Goma it’s typical to not do that because it’s not protected for you.

“From an administrative perspective, we are cut off from the ‘actual’ Congo,” he says. Unlike other cities in the North and South Kivu provinces of the DRC, Goma remains under full dominance by the M23.

As stated by Musavuli, some artists have come under pressure to create supportive content out of concern for their lives. “If you are an artist with a voice in Goma, the M23 can utilize you, sometimes by compulsion, or the artists make that decision to work with M23,” he says. “It's not straightforward to judge. But I cannot let myself to do something like that.”

If insecurity is one challenge, earning an income through the arts is another difficulty. “A challenge exists in Congo that people don’t buy art. Most of the artists here have to do other things to survive.” Musavuli works as a cartoonist for a digital outlet.

But he adds: “I don't solely doing art to generate income.”

Regardless of the risks and the financial uncertainties, Musavuli says he wants to continue producing work that gives voice to the marginalized people of Goma. “We are a resilient population – this is not the first time we have been through this.

“Although influence is limited but staying passive is so much worse. Even if your voice is heard by just two people, it’s something.”

In the conclusion of this visual narrative, Baraka walks alone down an quiet road, his head held high. “The future could appear exactly the same,” he says, “but I will continue. Holding on to hope is already pushing against.”

Courtney Taylor
Courtney Taylor

A passionate writer and digital enthusiast with a background in journalism, sharing insights on modern life and innovations.