The political history of the Democratic Republic of the Congo has often followed a grim and predictable pattern: every call for protest brings tear gas, gunfire, and looting to Kinshasa. But the recent “Ghost Town” operation on June 3, 2026, broke that cycle. Beyond party lines and sterile scorekeeping, one clear fact stands out and deserves strong recognition: non-violence prevailed, signaling a remarkable step forward for our young democracy.
Zero deaths, zero injuries, no vandalism. This absence of bloodshed and fury is no accident. It clearly reflects two major shifts. On one side, it shows the restraint and sense of responsibility from the government. The institutions successfully met the toughest challenge of a rule-of-law state: maintaining public order without stifling fundamental freedoms. On the other side, it reveals a Congolese people who refuse to be sacrificial fuel for political ambitions, wisely balancing the expression of discontent with the daily imperative of economic survival.
The real highlight of that day was the striking coexistence of liberties. Opposition figures Martin Fayulu and Moïse Katumbi – at least the only ones I heard on the airwaves – freely called for a citizen boycott, their voices uncensored. Meanwhile, the state, through a clear statement from Deputy Prime Minister and Minister of Public Service Jean-Pierre Lihau, circulated across ministries, reminded everyone of the duty to ensure continuous public service. What did we see on the ground? A democracy alive, diverse, and in action.
While some chose to stay home calmly, others went about their business freely. The ultimate symbol of this new tolerance: the normal operation of the Faden House hotel, an establishment linked to one of the leading opposition figures, proved that Kinshasa has moved beyond petty reprisals or political targeting. Those who wanted to express themselves by staying home did so; those who wanted to boycott the “Ghost Town” by working did so as well. Shop windows remained intact, and everyone’s rights were respected.
So I conclude that in a democracy, victory is not measured solely by the number of closed metal shutters or burned tires. It is also measured by a system’s ability to allow disagreement without descending into chaos. By simultaneously guaranteeing safety for all, the freedom to protest, and the right to work, the DRC has shown it is no longer a playground for amateur sorcerers but a nation rising through debate and mutual respect.
Words fly away, they say, but these facts remain. This time, without triumphalism but with legitimate pride, let us say it loud and clear: long live democracy!
