** Oriental Kasai: the desperate quest for water and electricity at the heart of a false semblance of democracy **
In Mbujimayi, the scene is almost surreal. The city, once considered an economic lung of Eastern Kasai, gradually tainted with the colors of distress. When electricity died last month, it has not only plunged homes into darkness; It also revealed the gaping fractures of a system whose light promises vanish over the days. Apparently, the path that leads to basic services, such as drinking water and electricity, is paved with bureaucratic indifference.
But then, where did the men and women who had promised a bright future under the aegis of Félix Tshisekedi? This president, who seemed to have crystallized so many hopes during the elections, finds himself confronted today with the lamentations of a disappointed people. The cries of distress of civil society echo in the city, but how much do they resonate within the rooms of curved meetings where we are talking about a bright future without ever acting? Political leaders, too rooted in a form of structural paralysis, engage in recurring meeting ballets, but the tangible results seem as distant as the horizon on the road to misery.
In a context of water and electricity shortage, the question that should make the doves of the market economy tremble: who pays the price of this inaction? The Kasaiians, pressed by a daily life where even the luxury of a glass of water becomes a challenge, must more than ever juggle with an implacable reality. Rural areas are particularly affected; Here, the tap does not flow, but the despair wraps around each home as a deadly embrace.
But isn’t it revealing? The Kasai region, important for the power in place, is lagging behind – a bitter irony of the system. The unwavering support provided by Tshisekedi part of the population does not even result in minimum attention to its basic needs. This contrast of a government which, proclaiming itself close to the population it serves, fails to feed the fundamental impulses of it, raises a crucial question: has the voter become a shadow in the game of political alliances?
Let’s take a closer look: the riches of Kasai, starting with its mining resources, have often been exploited without the population benefiting from the cake on the one hand. It is an endless cycle, where electoral promises are drowned in corruption and incompetent management. The abyss that is widening between power and the people only get bogged down with every day of darkness.
It would be easy to sink into cynicism, give up in the face of this situation. But that also raises an opportunity: if the authorities will continue to go around in circles, what about civil society? Could citizens’ movements emerge from this palpable frustration, capable of overthrowing the steam and making their voices heard? Beyond the current distress, this crisis could become a catalyst for a new form of mobilization.
The signals must be launched – not simply calls for help falling into oblivion, but actions that are rooted in the collective will of those who see themselves in the dark. The Kasaiians, confronted with this adversity, may be found at the crossroads: continue to hope in change or forge their own path. In this sense, their resilience could give birth to a shock wave, jostling the gears of a system which sometimes seems fixed on itself.
While water and electricity continue to be lacking, it seems that a glimmer of hope could emerge from the ruins of despair. But for that, the Kasai will have to overturn a system that has long made the ear. This fight for essential services could become the rallying cry of a people ready to no longer be satisfied with hollow promises.
So, yes, the question remains: where is the state when you need it most? The answer could well be the beginning of a movement, a collective awareness that is not limited to today’s sufferings, but revolves around the hope of a tomorrow where water will flow again and where the light will light the road to follow.