SAMIDRC: I was welcomed to Soweto by a force, but not welcomed in the Democratic Republic of the Congo

The name of a little shop says, “Welcome to Soweto,” while the flags of South Africa and the Democratic Republic of the Congo are displayed on either side.

The little maroon container store sells commonplace items like creams and soft drinks.

Perhaps sensing my interest after reading the words, a young man comes up to me and smiles, extending an invitation to visit the store. As though to validate what I had just read, he said, “You’re welcome, this is Soweto.”

This isn’t Soweto, though.

The township in South Africa is around 2700 kilometers away.

Outside of Goma city in the eastern Democratic Republic of the Congo, this is in Mubambiro, or Bambiro, depending on who you ask.

The language spoken by millions of people throughout the Great Lakes region, particularly in eastern Democratic Republic of the Congo, is called Bambiro, or Kinyarwanda.

It is derived from the Kinyarwanda verb “Kubamba,” which means “to crucify.” Bambiro is, in a sense, a place of crucifixion.

The kiosk is by no means the closest thing to South Africa in this area, even if it is far from the township in South Africa that it is named for.

A gated South African installation with a South African flag painted on a blue fence is located around 35 meters distant, just across from the store.

I notice men in South African military uniforms looking through the wicket. Around the vast, walled compound, a few others are visible observing from high watchtowers.

This is the Bambiro base of the South African contingent that was sent to the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) in late 2023 as a member of the SAMIDRC, or SADC Mission in DRC, a three-nation fighting force of the Southern African Development Community (SADC). Tanzania and Malawi are the two nations that provide additional troops to the mission.

A woman in casual attire, wearing a grey sweater, backless slip-ons, and blue-yellow-and-black summer shorts, enters via the pedestrian gate and approaches us as if she were on a brief fact-finding expedition.

I approach her, introduce myself, and explain that I was visiting the military installation in Bambiro to say hello and perhaps get a comment.

How did SAMIRDC’s withdrawal plan turn out?

She seems to back off a little when she finds out that I’m a journalist, claiming that none of the soldiers at the South African base were available to talk to reporters at the time. “Off the record, even.”

She claims that “our bosses are not around.” “Those are the people who might have spoken with you.”

I would like to know whether the South African SAMIDRC contingent was formally informed of the SADC Heads of State and Government’s decision to end the force’s contentious mandate and, if so, whether a pullout plan was conveyed.

She responds, “No comment, my brother,” as two of her attractive plainclothes coworkers soon join her. Another man quickly identifies himself as a Congolese national who has lived in South Africa in the past and is currently a volunteer interpreter for the South Africans.

A Malawian SAMIDRC soldier, whom I had briefly interacted with earlier while he walked outside their post, comes toward us wearing a sleeveless t-shirt and Adidas joggers.

He appears to be well-known to the villagers and is conversing in Swahili with both young and old.

The female South African soldier jokes, “Ask him,” directing my inquiry to the Malawian, who likewise avoids bringing up the subject of SAMIDRC’s pullout strategy.

“No, I already said no,” he answers promptly, grinning and greeting me as they stealthily leave me and approach a laid-back young M23 cop a little distance away.

M23 officers appeared uneasy about the concept, but they did not object when I inquired if it was acceptable for me to go to the SAMIDRC camps.

M23 forces often maintain a respectful distance from SADC troops, preferring to interact with them only through official routes, whether in Mubambiro/Bambiro or any other M23-controlled locations, including Goma airport.

In certain regions, SADC soldiers are restricted to their bases, and M23 has granted permission for them to travel around and provide supplies.

Warm greetings and smiles

The three of them smile and exchange pleasantries as the South African asks the uniformed M23 soldier, “How are you, my friend?”

They are familiar.

The two SAMIDC troops seem more at ease and eager to catch up with the M23 officer, now with their backs to the journalist’s curious eyes and ears.

The three converse amicably, with the Malawian soldier taking advantage of the occasion to demonstrate his growing proficiency in Swahili.

Knowing the underlying tension surrounding the unwanted presence of the SADC forces in the M23-controlled territory, it seems a little weird to me as a civilian to observe M23 and SAMIRC soldiers talk, joke together, and share a pleasant moment.

These fifteen or so minutes contain priceless wisdom.

At first glance, the two male South African troops appear more like quiet investigators who have simply arrived to survey the area, with one of them appearing completely withdrawn.

I also introduce myself, and slowly they loosen up a little, one of them even seeming open to a quick chat.

“We’re doing great.”

How are you doing? I shoot (a question, actually). The ostensibly elder one informs me, “We are doing well, no problem at all.”

But he’s determined not to reveal too much, just like their female coworker.

How do you and M23 get along? Anyway, I ask.

He continues, “My brother, we are not complaining, no problem at all,” as their very agitated Congolese “translator” tries to cut him off in a way that suggests he’s most likely intoxicated.

When I followed up to ask if they had been informed of any withdrawal plans, he just said, “no comment, no comment.”

The two South Africans then return to their base with their “voluuntary translator,” joining a few eager-looking, uniformed comrades at the gate.

However, their female coworker and her Malawian counterpart made it a point to joke about before departing.

When I questioned how significant SAMIDRC considered the “Welcome to Soweto” and the other small businesses directly in front of the South African camp, they both made fun of one other and insisted that their contingent was the largest customer base for the tiny companies.

In addition to a few kiosks, women merchants operate wooden stalls where they sell fruits and vegetables.

After we split off, the two Malawian and South African troops head to the South African base, where they meet their largely uniformed SAMIDRC counterparts at the entrance.

Later, I find out that both the outgoing South African woman officer and her Malawian counterpart, who speaks Swahili, are intelligence officers.

I pass the Malawian contingent as I resume my tour of Bambiro, the M23-held military installation I’ve had the good fortune to see twice since February.

From inside their compound, I see some troops crane their necks to see what’s happening outside.

Tanzanian SAMIDRC troops’ camp lies south of Malawi’s, followed by a MONUSCO (UN peacekeepers) post on the shores of Lake Kivu.

Like their counterparts in other M23-controlled regions, SAMIDRC camps here are flying the white flag, which is a sign of surrender.

On January 25, the M23 grabbed control of the Bambiro barracks, and three days later, the rebels captured Goma.

Increasing frustration and impatience

About 200 SADC troops, primarily the critically injured, departed to their home countries last month, leaving about 4,000 remaining confined to their camps in M23-controlled territory.

According to the M23 commanders I spoke with last week at the airports in Mubambiro and Goma, they had not been given any directives or updates about the SADC forces’ scheduled phased evacuation.

One of them remarked, “They should never have come in the first place,” indicating that M23 leaders were becoming increasingly frustrated and impatient with the state of affairs.

One even questioned the genuine motivations of SADC officials, pointing out that they frequently say one thing in public while acting in a another way when it comes to the SAMIDRC’s mandate.

According to one commander, South Africa attempted to launch a surprise air strike on Goma airport, similar to the well-known Israeli commando invasion of Entebbe airport in Uganda in the 1970s.

An undesirable force

“I advise SADC to proceed with implementing the decisions made by their own leaders,” he stated. “It is a waste of time to do anything else.”

The airport’s runway is obstructed by abandoned military vehicles and equipment, and the control tower is in ruins, making the facility unusable.

In fact, the warmth and smiles I saw between people in Mubambiro are just that—a gesture of goodwill and the African concept of Ubuntu—but from the M23’s perspective, SAMIDRC is still a hostile entity that needs to depart as soon as possible.

“They are essentially prisoners of war now; what are they still doing here?” “They came to kill Congolese citizens; we are only fighting for our rights, and you come to eliminate us.” An M23 commander was added. “They are misusing the generosity we showed them.”

There is little doubt that SADC soldiers are welcome in Soweto, but not in the DR Congo’s M23-controlled areas.