JUSTICE THAT COMES TOO LATE IS STILL INJUSTICE

Jacky Ndala should never have been in prison. After months of court hearings and political pressure, he has finally been granted provisional release. The court said his health was getting worse and he needed treatment. But we all know the truth — his arrest was never about justice, it was about silencing a voice that refused to bow down.

Jacky Ndala is the youth coordinator of “Ensemble pour la République,” one of the strongest opposition movements in the country. He was sentenced to 30 months in prison for what they called “spreading false rumors.” His crime was speaking out about the violence he said he suffered at the hands of the National Intelligence Agency. Instead of investigating his claims, they punished him for telling the truth. That is how the system works in Congo: when you expose injustice, you become the criminal.

This is not the first time he has been targeted. In 2021, he was sentenced again, this time for “inciting people to disobey the law,” after calling citizens to protest against a controversial bill. Even when he received a presidential pardon, the government refused to release him. What kind of justice ignores a pardon signed by the president himself?

For almost a year, his lawyers and supporters shouted into the void, calling his imprisonment what it truly was — political persecution. Today, they celebrate his release, but it is a small victory in a long, painful war against a system that fears free voices. Ndala is not free because justice won. He is free because his health broke down. And that is not justice; it is cruelty.

This case shows how fragile our freedom is. Any voice that challenges the government risks prison, violence, or disappearance. The courts no longer serve the people; they serve those who control them. The law has become a wall used to block truth, not protect it.

In every democracy, opposition is supposed to be part of the balance that keeps power accountable. In Congo, it has become a target. If our leaders are confident in their ideas, why do they fear those who speak differently? Why do they need to silence young men like Ndala instead of debating them openly?

The truth is that our country has become a place where sickness opens the door of the prison, not innocence. Ndala is walking out of Makala Central Prison weak, but his story will remain strong. He represents every young Congolese who dares to speak truth to power and pays for it with their freedom.

Let us not forget how many others remain behind bars, unknown, unreported, and unheard. They too are prisoners of fear — a fear created by leaders who know that once people start to speak, their lies begin to fall apart.

Jacky Ndala’s release should not make us quiet. It should make us louder. Because justice that comes only when a man is sick is not real justice. It is a warning that none of us are safe until truth and freedom are protected for all.

The people of Congo must continue to stand, to question, and to speak. Silence helps the oppressor. And every time a voice like Jacky Ndala’s is punished, it becomes our duty to speak even louder — for him, for ourselves, and for the future we still believe in.