On January 27, a harrowing jailbreak at Munzenze prison in Goma resulted in mass violence and destruction, leading to the deaths of many women and children. Survivors like Pascaline and Sifa share their traumatic experiences, highlighting the failures of authorities and the ongoing cycle of violence in the region.
Survivors Speak Out: Horror and Resilience After DR Congo Prison Tragedy

Survivors Speak Out: Horror and Resilience After DR Congo Prison Tragedy
In the wake of a devastating prison jailbreak in Goma, survivors recount the violent assaults and tragic losses they endured during the deadly chaos.
In a heartbreaking aftermath of the jailbreak at Munzenze prison in Goma, Democratic Republic of Congo, survivors are sharing their horrifying stories of assault, loss, and resilience. The tragedy unfolded on the morning of January 27, as chaos erupted while Rwandan-backed M23 rebels advanced toward the city, leading to a complete breakdown of order within the prison walls.
Pascaline, 22, vividly recalls the terror she faced as her life hung in the balance. "He told me that if I tried to escape, he would kill me," she recounts, forced to endure repeated sexual assaults from fellow inmates. The brunt of the violence primarily fell upon women detained in the facility. Amid the pandemonium, more than 4,000 male inmates escaped, while at least 132 women and 25 children perished in the inferno that engulfed the facility.
As one month passes, Pascaline courageously revisits the scorched prison, confronting the haunting remnants of the events that transpired. The charred walls and abandoned belongings serve as grim reminders of the lives lost that night—lives that she is now determined to honor by sharing her experience. "It was God who wanted me to be saved," she states, grappling with the need to bear witness to the suffering of the deceased.
Nadine, another survivor, echoes Pascaline's despair as she describes her experience of being attacked when men entered the women's section, driven by alcohol and malice. "They took all the women here," she states, now filled with anger towards local authorities who, in her view, failed to protect them.
The situation spiraled out of control as chaos enveloped both the prison and Goma as a whole. Survivors like Florence share harrowing details of tear gas attacks, further complicating escape efforts for those within. "Bullets were flying, and we were begging God to deliver us," she recalls, conveying the total sense of abandonment they experienced from law enforcement.
Instead of assistance, authorities only intensified the danger; soldiers dispatched to secure the prison declined to extinguish the raging flames. Life around them continued to deteriorate, as rebel forces exhibited increasing control over the city.
Among the survivors is Sifa, who suffered beyond physical injuries when she lost her two-year-old daughter, Esther, in the fire. "She died on the spot," Sifa laments, her spirit weighed down by grief and a sense of hopelessness. Her unjust imprisonment was rooted in an allegation of robbery, which she vehemently denies.
As these survivors cling to their stories, they face a grim reality—no sense of justice or accountability appears forthcoming. "No-one will follow this case," Sifa reflects, indicating a systemic neglect that leaves her and many others feeling voiceless. With the current situation in Goma precarious, the haunting echoes of their experience may persist unacknowledged, trapped in the shadows of a conflicted region.