In the eastern Congolese city of Beni, the word Ebola still triggers painful memories for survivors of the 2018-2020 outbreak, the second-largest in history with over 3,400 reported cases and more than 2,200 deaths. That outbreak was eventually contained with the help of vaccines, but survivors like Vianney Kambale Kombi recall the deep skepticism, attacks on health workers, and community resistance that allowed the disease to spread rapidly.
"We thought it was witchcraft," Kombi said. "The community had not accepted that this disease existed and it had not accepted that we could recover from it."
Now, as a new outbreak caused by the rare Bundibugyo virus spreads in the region—with 550 confirmed cases, 101 deaths, and 19 recoveries as of Sunday—fears are mounting that past mistakes could be repeated. Unlike the previous outbreak, there is no approved vaccine for this strain, raising concerns about the effectiveness of the response.
Kombi, who contracted Ebola after exposure to infected individuals, said misinformation was rampant. Many believed the disease was a "Western conspiracy for funding reasons," while others saw it as a spiritual or political issue.
"When a pandemic hits here in Congo, we initially think it's a political issue," said Bienfait Wanzire, another survivor from the 2018 outbreak. "At first, we thought it was a spiritual illness.
Then because there were election campaigns, we believed it was political."
Dr. Babah Mutuza Lusungu, a physician at "Dieu Est Grand" Medical Center in Beni, recalled losing his uncle and two colleagues as he struggled to convince the community the outbreak was real.
"There was very strong resistance," he said. "And so there was a climate of mistrust that took place between the population, the authorities, the partners too, right, and the health workers." He urged local authorities to involve youth leaders in awareness efforts, warning that waiting until cases surge would be too late.
Esperance Masinda, who worked for UNICEF during the 2018 outbreak, contracted Ebola while caring for her husband, a doctor. Both recovered, but the vaccine that saved them led to stigma from family and neighbors.
"When we were in the community, we were told that you're not going to make it even five years, you're going to die with that medication that you took there," she said. Today, she says the stigma has faded: "We are all humans, even though we have been victims of Ebola, all of us are humans."
The current outbreak, centered in Beni near the borders with Uganda and Rwanda, poses unique challenges due to the lack of an approved vaccine and persistent community mistrust. Health workers are racing to contain the spread, but survivors and doctors alike warn that without addressing the underlying suspicions, the response may fall short.