People need to stop deluding themselves. Ebola is real.
In the eastern reaches of the Democratic Republic of Congo, a centuries-old tension between belief and evidence is playing out against a deadly backdrop: an Ebola outbreak that has claimed at least 177 lives and infected over 900 suspected cases, now reaching cities and crossing into Uganda. The virus moves not only through bodies but through doubt — carried by those who deny its existence, by mourning rituals that honor the dead while endangering the living, and by a healthcare system hollowed out by conflict and underfunding. The World Health Organization has raised its risk assessment to 'very high,' and experts warn that the true toll may be far larger than what is counted, as fear itself becomes a force that keeps the sick away from care.
- An Ebola strain with no approved vaccine and no proven treatment is spreading through a conflict zone of two million displaced people, outpacing every available resource.
- Community denial is an active accelerant — some residents still believe the disease is a fiction, and traditional funeral practices involving contact with the deceased are driving new chains of transmission.
- Tensions have turned violent: relatives stormed a hospital to reclaim an Ebola victim's body, burning two medical tents, prompting authorities to ban public gatherings and wakes.
- Aid organizations describe a response permanently behind the curve, with US funding cuts and the dismantling of USAID leaving clinics short of even basic disinfectant and chlorine.
- Experts warn of a silent second death toll — children and adults dying of malaria, measles, and malnutrition as fear of Ebola keeps them from seeking any medical care at all.
- A vaccine is in development, but health officials refuse to name a timeline, and the outbreak continues to spread through communities where belief in its reality remains uneven.
Hélène Akilimali wears a face mask every time she enters the market in eastern DRC to sell cocoa. It is the only protection she can afford. Some of her customers do not believe Ebola exists. She cannot force them to take precautions. "Ebola is a real disease," she said. "People need to stop deluding themselves."
The outbreak has claimed at least 177 lives, with over 900 suspected cases and 101 confirmed. What began in a rural area has reached the cities of Bunia and Goma, and crossed into Uganda, where five people have tested positive and two have died. The WHO raised its risk assessment to "very high" within the DRC, warning that case numbers will likely keep climbing — the virus circulated undetected for weeks before any alarm was raised.
In Bunia, resident Élie Ilunga installed a washbasin at his home and began urging his neighbors to accept what was happening around them. "Those who doubt are perhaps those who haven't experienced this yet," he reflected. Others have been left with no room for doubt. Aline Kitambala Masika said simply: "Ebola devastated my whole family."
Traditional funeral customs — mourners touching the bodies of the deceased — are a major driver of transmission, since Ebola victims remain highly infectious after death. When relatives of a young man who died of Ebola attempted to forcibly remove his body from Rwampara Hospital, protesters set fires that destroyed two medical tents. Local authorities responded by banning public gatherings and wakes.
The response is overwhelmed on every front. Eastern DRC is a conflict zone with roughly two million displaced people and chronically underfunded healthcare. The circulating strain has no approved vaccine and no proven treatment. Aid workers say cuts to US funding and the dismantling of USAID have hampered relief efforts. Greg Ramm of Save the Children was direct: "We are in a game of catch-up. There are not enough health resources."
Doctors warn of a second, invisible toll: if fear drives people away from hospitals entirely, deaths from malaria, measles, and malnutrition will mount uncounted. Children under five are especially at risk. "The last thing we need right now is for the health system to shut down," Ramm said. A vaccine is in development, but the head of Africa CDC declined to offer a timeline. "It may take quite some time," he said. For now, the outbreak spreads through communities where some still do not believe it is real, and where the systems meant to stop it are running on fumes.
Hélène Akilimali wears her face mask every time she steps into the market to sell cocoa in eastern Democratic Republic of Congo. It is the only protection she can manage. But the customers who come to buy from her—some of them don't believe Ebola exists at all, and she cannot force them to take precautions. She cannot chase them away. "Ebola is a real disease," she said. "People need to stop deluding themselves." The virus is spreading through the region, and denial is helping it travel.
The outbreak has claimed at least 177 lives so far. The World Health Organization identified more than 900 suspected cases, with 101 confirmed. The virus emerged in a rural area but has now reached cities—Bunia, Goma—and crossed into Uganda, where five people have tested positive and two have died. On Friday, the WHO raised the risk assessment to "very high" within the DRC and "high" at the regional level, though it maintains that global risk remains low. The organization warned that case numbers will likely continue climbing, since the virus circulated undetected for weeks before anyone sounded an alarm.
In Bunia, a resident named Élie Ilunga watched the reality sink in. "We used to think it was a joke, but now we can see that it's real," he said. "The disease is definitely here." He installed a washbasin at his home and has been trying to convince neighbors to stop denying what is happening around them. "Those who doubt are perhaps those who haven't experienced this yet or whose families haven't been affected yet," he reflected. But some families have been devastated. Aline Kitambala Masika, originally from North Kivu Province, said simply: "Ebola devastated my whole family."
The crisis is being amplified by practices that have deep roots in the community. Traditional funeral customs involve mourners touching the body of the deceased—and the bodies of Ebola victims are highly infectious. Health officials have flagged this as a major driver of transmission. On Thursday, tensions erupted at Rwampara Hospital in Ituri when relatives of a young man who had died of Ebola tried to remove his body by force. Protesters set fires that destroyed two hospital tents. In response, local authorities banned public gatherings and wakes on Friday.
The response is being strangled by multiple crises at once. Eastern DRC is a conflict zone with an estimated two million displaced people. Healthcare infrastructure has been chronically underfunded. The strain of Ebola circulating now has no approved vaccine and no proven treatment. Aid workers told CNN that cuts to US funding and the dismantling of USAID prior to the outbreak have hampered relief efforts, though a State Department official disputed this claim. Greg Ramm, the DRC country director for Save the Children, described the situation bluntly: "We are in a game of catch-up. There are not enough health resources." His teams are delivering basic supplies—disinfectant, chlorine—to clinics, but the need far outpaces what is available.
Experts are warning of a second wave of deaths that may never be counted as Ebola. If people become too frightened to visit hospitals for other illnesses—malaria, measles, malnutrition—the toll will mount invisibly. Children under five are especially vulnerable to malaria. The last thing the health system can afford right now is to collapse entirely. "The goal is to keep health centers functioning to encourage people who are sick with Ebola or something else to get help," Ramm said. "The last thing we need right now is for the health system to shut down."
Doctors are repeating the same message: avoid touching anyone with Ebola, stop unnecessary physical contact like hugging, do not touch dead animals. "Every person must adopt a preventative attitude to break this chain of infection," said Dr. Mwarabu Hugue. Uganda's President Yoweri Museveni has urged citizens to stop shaking hands, though he noted that the vast majority of cases remain in the DRC. The WHO described Uganda's situation as stable.
Vaccine development is underway, but there is no timeline. The head of the Africa Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, Dr. Jean Kaseya, told reporters that it will take months—he would not specify how many. "Anyone who gives you a specific number of months is not telling the truth," he said. "It may take quite some time." For now, the outbreak continues to spread through communities where some people still do not believe it is real, where funerals remain dangerous, and where the health system is running on fumes.
Citas Notables
Ebola is a real disease. People need to stop deluding themselves.— Hélène Akilimali, cocoa seller in eastern DRC
We are in a game of catch-up. There are not enough health resources.— Greg Ramm, DRC country director for Save the Children
Ebola devastated my whole family.— Aline Kitambala Masika, Bunia resident
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why does denial matter so much here? Isn't the virus going to spread regardless of what people believe?
Belief shapes behavior. If you don't think Ebola is real, you won't wear a mask, you won't avoid touching someone who's sick, you won't stay away from a funeral. The virus needs those moments of contact to move from one person to the next. Denial removes the friction.
But people have seen deaths. How can they still doubt?
Grief and fear make people reach for explanations that feel less terrifying. And in a place where the health system is already broken, where people die from malaria and malnutrition all the time, it's easier to believe this is something else—something that won't touch you personally.
The hospital fire—that was relatives trying to take a body. What does that tell us?
It tells us that traditional practices around death are colliding head-on with epidemiology. A funeral is sacred. The body of someone you love is sacred. Being told you cannot touch them, cannot perform the rituals that honor them, feels like a violation. The anger is real.
And the funding cuts—how much do those matter when you're already this far behind?
They matter enormously. You're trying to deliver chlorine and disinfectant to clinics that barely have electricity. You're trying to build trust in a community that has been abandoned by the outside world for years. Less money means fewer people on the ground doing that work.
What happens if the health system actually does shut down?
Then people stop going to hospitals for anything. A child with malaria dies at home instead of in a clinic. A pregnant woman hemorrhages. Those deaths won't be counted as Ebola, but they're part of the same catastrophe.
Is there any reason to think this gets better soon?
Not soon. The vaccine is months away—maybe many months. The virus is already in cities. And the conditions that let it spread—conflict, displacement, weak health infrastructure, community doubt—those don't change overnight.