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Throughout the initial hours of the morning, the protagonist roams through the streets of Goma. He chooses an incorrect path and encounters thieves. At his residence, his father scrolls through TV channels while his mother counts bags of flour. No one speaks. The quiet is interrupted only by noises on the radio.

When dusk arrives, Baraka is resting on the shore of Lake Kivu, gazing south to Bukavu and east towards Rwanda, finding no promise in either direction.

That marks the introduction to a visual story set in turbulent Goma, the first comic by a young visual artist, Edizon Musavuli, released earlier this year. The story illustrates common hardships in Goma through the perspective of a child.

Prominent Congolese artists such as Barly Baruti, Fifi Mukuna and Papa Mfumu’Eto, who grasped the public’s imagination in comic strips in the past, primarily worked abroad or in Kinshasa, a city significantly distant from Goma. But there are limited contemporary comics located in or about the Democratic Republic of the Congo created by Congolese artists.

Expression provides light. It’s something to start with.

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

His first solo exhibition was in January 2020, curated with a cultural institute in Goma. “The event was significant. People reacted strongly how everyone engaged to it,” says Musavuli.

But just a year later, the brutal M23 militia, backed by Rwanda, resurfaced in eastern DRC and disrupted Goma’s vulnerable art scene.

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

When M23 captured Goma in January this year, the city’s creative spaces faltered alongside its economy. “Art gives hope, it’s something to start with, but our situation here doesn’t change. So people in Goma are not really interested any more,” says Musavuli.

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

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

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

Within this environment that this visual story was created. The story is filled with political undertones, highlighting how ordinary routines have been eroded and replaced with ongoing instability.

Yet Musavuli maintains the short comic was not meant as overt political commentary: “I don't consider myself a political artist or activist but I say what people around me are thinking. That’s how I do my art.”

Even without authority but staying silent is so much worse. When someone hears you, it’s something.

Inquired about he feels able to express himself freely under occupation, he says: “People can speak openly in Congo, but can you remain unharmed after you speak?”

Creating art that appears too negative of M23 or the government can be perilous, he says: “In Kinshasa it’s normal to talk about everything that’s wrong with the rebels. But in Goma it’s standard to not do that because it’s not safe for you.

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

Based on Musavuli, some artists have come under duress 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 intimidation, or the artists make that decision to work with M23,” he says. “The situation is complex to judge. But I cannot permit myself to do something like that.”

While danger is one challenge, making a living through the arts is another obstacle. “There's an issue in Congo that people don’t buy art. Many of the artists here have to do other things to get by.” Musavuli works as a cartoonist for a online platform.

But he adds: “It isn't just about doing art to make money.”

Despite the risks and the financial uncertainties, Musavuli says he wants to continue making work that gives voice to the overlooked people of Goma. “People here endure – this is not the first time we have been through this.

“We might not have power but staying passive is so much worse. Though your voice is heard by just two people, it’s something.”

At the end of Baraka and the Unpredictable Life of Goma, Baraka walks alone down an deserted road, his head held high. “Next day may seem exactly the same,” he says, “but I will continue. Holding on to hope is already fighting back.”