JUSTICE FOR THE POWERFUL IS STILL NOT JUSTICE
When the news came that Constant Mutamba, former Minister of Justice, was sentenced to three years of hard labor for stealing more than 19 million US dollars meant to build a prison in Kisangani, many people in Congo felt a small spark of hope. For once, it looked like justice had reached one of the powerful. But very quickly, that hope began to fade.
Mutamba, who once spoke loudly about law and order, is now the one behind bars — at least in name. The court also said he cannot hold public office for five years after his sentence. It sounds strong on paper, but in Congo, we have learned that justice for the rich is never the same as justice for the poor. La justice à deux vitesses — two-speed justice.
He arrived at the court in an armored military vehicle, protected by soldiers, not because he is in danger, but because he is still treated like a man of power. He was sentenced in a grand courtroom and taken not to an ordinary prison, but to a luxury villa called la promenade, where he will “serve” his time under house arrest. This is not punishment. This is comfort.
Nineteen million dollars — money that could have built a real prison, created jobs, or fed families — disappeared under his watch. Some say the money is still in the bank and can be recovered. Others say the real crime is that he is being punished while others who stole more are free. And they are right. How many ministers and directors are still walking free after stealing from the same poor people they pretend to serve?
Mutamba’s case is not only about corruption. It is about hypocrisy. The same government that allows injustice in the East now celebrates this sentence as proof that no one is above the law. But we see the truth. If you are close to power, your prison has air conditioning. If you are poor, your prison has hunger, sickness, and no end.
It is also painful to remember that this man, as Minister of Justice, once threatened young men from the streets with the death penalty. He said the “Kuluna” — the poor boys — deserved death for their crimes. Today, those boys wait in Angenga prison to be executed, while Mutamba will spend his nights in a villa. Quelle ironie — what an irony.
Congo is sick, not because of lack of laws, but because the laws are only strong against the weak. The real thieves do not fear justice; they control it. They wear suits, sit in offices, and call themselves “Excellency.” They steal millions and return only words.
Yes, the court spoke, but did truth speak too? Did we get justice, or just another show to make people believe that change is coming? Until everyone, from the street child to the minister, faces the same law, there will be no real justice in Congo.
The people are tired of fake victories. They are tired of seeing ministers sleep in villas while mothers sleep on floors. They are tired of hearing promises that justice will come. Le peuple congolais mérite mieux — the Congolese people deserve better.
Constant Mutamba may have been judged by a court, but the real judgment will come from history. And history does not forget. The villa walls may be high, but they cannot hide shame. For every dollar stolen, for every lie told, Congo remembers.
Powerful words. Every line in this article hurts because it’s true. We celebrate Mutamba’s conviction as if it’s a victory, but deep down we know it’s just another performance. If he was poor, he would already be dying in Makala. Le peuple congolais mérite mieux, the people deserve justice, not theatre. Thank you for saying what so many are afraid to say.
Honestly, people need to appreciate progress instead of always criticising. Constant Mutamba was sentenced publicly; the process was transparent. What else do you want? Even in developed countries, some officials get lighter sentences. Congo is moving forward, petit à petit, whether people admit it or not.
People like you just want chaos. You never see anything positive. Mutamba was punished, but now you say it’s not enough. If he was left free, you would still complain. Maybe stop spreading negativity and let the justice system do its work. Donnez le temps au pays d’avancer.
It’s the hypocrisy that kills me. The same man who called for the death of poor boys now enjoys a “soft” prison in a villa. What kind of justice is that? This writer captured the perfect irony. Congo is not short of laws; it is short of courage to apply them equally. A sad but powerful reminder that until the rich fear prison, corruption will never stop.