Congo: Delivering sustainable water supply to Goma
Judith Raupp
November 23, 2021
Businessman Jack Kahorha formed a company in 2017 to provide fresh drinking water to local communities. DW examines how it convinced customers to pay for their water and now turns over $400,000 a year.
Yme Jibu customers in Goma wait in line to fill their jerrycans with waterImage: Judith Raupp
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The Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) holds half of the freshwater reserves of the entire African continent, according to UNICEF. But not even half of the Congolese population has access to clean drinking water.
Entrepreneur Jack Kahorha refused to accept that. So, four years ago, he and two friends founded a water company, Yme Jibu, in Goma, the capital of DRC's North Kivu province.
"I told myself that I have to do something so that Congolese get water, he told DW. "Even if I start with 10,000, 20,000 or 30,000 people — it is a beginning."
Entrepreneur Jack Kahorha in front of a water reservoir with Eugenie Fatuma Anyenyeri, who manages the tankImage: Judith Raupp
Expanding reach
Yme Jibu serves 83,000 people on the outskirts of Goma, a city of over 1 million people that sits on the shore of Lake Kivu, just beside the Rwandan border. Next year, the number of locals benefiting from the clean water his company distributes is expected to reach 140,000.
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The company pumps water from the lake, treats it with chlorine, then delivers it to households and community faucets in the city districts.
There, mainly girls and women fill the water into jerrycans and carry them home on their backs. Yme Jibu generates two-thirds of its $400,000 (€355,000) turnover from the faucet business.
This is because a private connection to the water supply costs $860 — considered too expensive for most Congolese.
In the eastern part of the country, poverty rates are particularly high because conflict and arbitrariness slow down efforts to develop the economy.
Investors tend to avoid the region, so young people often struggle to find work.
Mainly girls and women fill the water into jerrycans and carry them home on their backsImage: Judith Raupp
Help for refugees
Yme Jibu employs a staff of 22 and cooperates with 440 water traders who operate the faucets and reservoirs in the districts.
Because the business took over water provision from aid organizations, Kahorha had to convince his customers to pay for the service.
When the Nyiragongo volcano — which lies just 12 kilometers north of Goma — erupted in 2002, a Norwegian aid organization built wells, faucets and pipelines to supply people who lost their homes to the lava and had fled the city to displacement camps on the outskirts. Later, farmers fleeing militia fighters came to the camps, swelling numbers further.
For more than 15 years, aid organizations provided free drinking water to the refugees and residents who lived near the camps.
But an abrupt end loomed, Kahorha recounted: "In 2016, all donors decided to stop providing funds because the emergency was declared to be over and the camps were closed. There was the risk that people will no longer have access to drinking water."
Yme Jibu treats water from Lake Kivu for households and communities in the city districtsImage: Judith Raupp
Sustainability issues
The story is a familiar one: When aid budgets dwindle, many supported projects end up in ruins
Former German diplomat and Africa expert Volker Seitz recalled conversations with international donors, who estimated that only one-fifth of the projects in African countries provided the population with a long-term benefit.
Statistics on this subject are lacking because the long-term impact is rarely evaluated. But Kahorha's experience confirmed problems with the sustainability of several water projects:
"Many communities are not trained enough to maintain facilities. That is why they do not work in the long run. I think the donors would be heartbroken if they saw that they had spent millions and had almost nothing left behind."
Yme Jibu is a different story. Since the company received its facilities as donations from aid organizations, it has modernized and expanded its infrastructure.
Affordability
Drinking water is reasonably affordable for the poor population of Goma, where a 20-liter jerrycan costs 100 francs ($0.05) to fill.
Households connected to the network pay 4,000 francs ($2.00, €1.78) per cubic meter. Schools, hospitals and orphanages pay half that amount.
Yme Jibu's income is sufficient for operation, maintenance, water quality control and new pumping stations and faucets. The firm even makes an annual profit of $20,000.
Congolese shareholders have invested a total of $500,000 in the business.
Initially, a European investor participated but cultural differences and disputes over the repayment terms of the borrowed capital led to a falling-out. Since then, Kahorha and his two Congolese partners each own about a third of the company.
They have taken out bank loans for this purpose.
Children line up for water for residents displaced after Mount Nyiragongo erupts on May 29, 2021Image: Guerchom Ndebo/AFP/Getty Images
Good relations with aid organizations
Kahorha described the company's relationships with aid organizations — which are numerous in eastern Congo — as "good".
Oxfam, for example, is paying for the vending machines from which the population will be able to fetch water with a cash card in the future.
Yme Jibu is negotiating with another organization to see if it can help build new pipes and faucets. Because the Nyiragongo erupted again in May, prompting many residents to move away from the city center. Kahorha is preparing for new customers: "People are building like crazy in the area where we are represented. We need to prepare for a rush of potential customers."
Congo pygmies move deeper into the forest to escape extinction
As pygmies in the Republic of Congo lose access to their ancestral lands, groups are moving deeper into the rain forest to save their culture.
Image: Marco Simoncelli
Pygmies seek refuge deep in the forest
Moguio, a young Aka-Mbenzele pygmy, used to roam freely through the forest to hunt and gather, following the seasons. But then his community in the north of the Republic of Congo became threatened by landowners, forestry and mining. They decided to abandon their nomadic tradition and settle in one place deeper in the forest.
Image: Marco Simoncelli
Among Africa's last hunter-gatherers
Pygmies are one of Africa's last nomadic hunter-gatherer communities. Traditionally, they lived in a vast region spanning the entire Congo Basin. Around 900,000 pygmies still live across the rainforests of nine Central African countries. But the loss of habitat makes it harder for young men like Moguio to maintain their hunting traditions.
Image: Marco Simoncelli
Way of life at risk
In most regions of Central Africa, pygmies no longer have free access to their traditional lands and are unable to carry out traditional activities. Pygmies share the rituals and secrets of the forest to their children from the day they are born. The Aka-Mbenzel community worries they won't be able to pass down their knowledge to the next generations.
Image: Marco Simoncelli
Longa, a shelter against discrimination
The village of Longa is located deep within the rainforest of the Likouala Department. Here, community life continues quietly, away from ethnic discrimination. The Republic of Congo was the first African country to pass a law protecting pygmies' rights; regardless, communities still suffer severe social exclusion. A 2019 human rights report by the UN confirmed such ongoing discrimination.
Image: Marco Simoncelli
In harmony with the forest
Pygmies are often looked down upon in Congolese society. They are seen as backward by the Bantu ethnic group, which historically kept them as slaves. Pygmies have a very close relationship with the rainforest environment — which is worshiped as a deity. They live in symbiosis with nature, gathering fruits and insects, and hunting; and protecting the environment they rely upon.
Image: Marco Simoncelli
Climate-regulating forest at risk
Pygmies are entirely dependent on the forest of the Congo Basin forest for their livelihood. It's the second-largest rainforest on the planet, soaking up 1.2 billion tonnes of CO2 each year — making it crucial for regulation of the global climate. The rainforest is endangered by logging and clearing for large-scale agriculture. Mining and urbanization are also threats.
Image: Marco Simoncelli
Formidable hunters and forest guides
The Aka-Mbenzele can navigate in the forest even at night. Adept at evading predators, they are gifted hunters. The group lives in one of the world's most important natural sanctuaries, which covers 240 million hectares (about 927,000 square miles) and is home to more than 10,000 types of plants and thousands of animals.
Image: Marco Simoncelli
Abused by forest rangers
Longa pygmies still set up camps in the forest when they go hunting or search for fruit and insects. But in other areas of the Congo Basin forest, nature reserve guards have attacked and burned pygmy settlements, accusing them of being poachers. In 2016, the indigenous rights group Survival International accused WWF and African Parks of hundreds of cases of abuse against Indigenous peoples.
Image: Marco Simoncelli
The injustice of militarized conservation
"In the past, we didn't understand the concept of the forest having owners. We could move freely without limitations," explains Ndiky. UN investigations have confirmed allegations of abuses and human rights violations against pygmies by environmental groups. This raises concerns around creating nature reserves on traditional Indigenous lands, and militarization of the guarding of such reserves.
Image: Marco Simoncelli
Mobe, god of the forest
As sunset approaches, a representation of the pygmies' forest god Mobe often shows up in the village of Longa. The community asks the deity to donate fruit and assure good hunting. "They have protected their world for years. I'm sure we couldn't preserve the forest without their wisdom," says Congolese ethnologist Sorel Eta.
Image: Marco Simoncelli
Forbidding access
But pygmies in the Congolese department of Sangha are losing access to their ancestral lands. They are being forced to settle near Bantu-majority urban centers. Armel is a Baka pygmy who now works on a cacao farm. "First the loggers and miners came, then the eco-guards. I think they want to kill our culture. It's only a matter of time."
Image: Marco Simoncelli
Keeping nature in balance
When pygmies harvest honey, they make sure they leave behind enough for the bees to survive. They take care to only take what they need; others could learn from them. Over the past two decades, at least 64.7 million hectares of humid primary forest has been lost globally.
