- Congolese traditional medicine, rooted in cultural heritage, is disappearing due to the dominance of modern medicine; in rural areas, traditional healers remain essential, yet their knowledge is largely undocumented and often undervalued.
- Conflicts, climate change and loss of biodiversity further threaten medicinal plants and cultural transmission.
- There is an urgent need to recognize, protect and preserve this heritage through ethnobotany and inclusive health policies.
- This commentary is part of Our Letters to the Future, a series produced by the Y. Eva Tan Conservation Reporting Fellows as their final fellowship project. The views expressed are those of the author, not necessarily Mongabay.
See All Key Ideas
In this series, Our Letters to the Future, the sixth cohort of Mongabay’s Y. Eva Tan Conservation Reporting Fellows share their views on environmental journalism, conservation and the future for their generation, amid multiple planetary crises. Each commentary is a personal reflection, based on individual fellows’ experiences in their home communities and the insights gained through the past six months of the fellowship. The series spans the Global South — Malaysia, India, Colombia, Brazil, Nigeria and the Democratic Republic of Congo — showcasing a broad diversity of ideas and the common ground these young environmental journalists share as they embark on their careers.
Congolese traditional medicine is disappearing. Not due to a lack of usefulness, but due to a lack of space in an increasingly standardized medical world. Faced with the rise of modern medicine, supported by institutions and universities, ancestral knowledge is being forgotten and sometimes even scorned. Yet, in rural areas where hospitals are scarce and medicines expensive, it is traditional healers who provide care, relief and support. How can it be explained that this medicine, rooted in local realities, is now relegated to the background?
This is an issue I know from experience, in my family and community. In the Tembo tribe of South Kivu, to which I belong, traditional medicine relies on a deep understanding of plants, natural cycles and community rites.
I had a friend in the village who caught chickenpox. He was taken to a traditional healer, who treated him with a wash made from kifubula (Aloe vera) and several other leaves whose names I do not know. Within three days, he felt much better.
An aerial view of an aloe plant. Aloe vera is used in traditional medicine in the DRC. Image by Kaweesaesther via Wikimedia Commons (CC BY-SA 4.0).
Another friend with whom I also played football had muscle pain problems. For his relief, his father had given him all sorts of plants, but he didn’t get better. So, in 2015, he was taken to a traditional healer in the bush, near the village of Bushushu. He administered ginger root in the form of an ointment and cloves for three days. From that day until today, my friend no longer has this problem. I have also learned to heal some illnesses based on plants.
In my culture, traditional medicine is not learned in books, but in the bush, in contact with elders. The title of healer, omufumu w’ecishenzi (in the Chitembo and Mashi language), is not given lightly to just anyone, but is obtained through initiation rites, plants, transmission and social and cultural recognition.
“To be a healer is not to pick plants, their parts or those of animals at random. One must be initiated by culture, recognized and a bearer of a heritage,” confides a traditional healer and doctor from Kalehe, Muderwa Asumani.
This inner journey within each culture, once common, is tending to disappear. Young people no longer approach or follow their elders in the bush as often as in the past. They follow screens. “Today, children prefer football and social media to the transmission of our knowledge,” Asumani adds with regret. This observation is not mere nostalgia. It reveals a growing cultural divide.
Local healer Muderwa Asumani, photographed in Goma, DRC, says young people today prefer to follow football and social media; fewer are following the elders who are knowledgeable about traditional medicine. Image by Blaise Kasereka Makuta.
Traditional medicine feels forgotten
With the expansion of universities and hospitals, modern medicine is establishing itself as the reference. It is valued, funded and taught. In parallel, traditional medicine is relegated to the status of informal practice, sometimes even described as “fetish medicine” or “unscientific.” Yet, in a country where more than 70% of the population lives below the poverty line, access to modern health care remains a luxury. And yet, traditional medicine is accessible and continues to heal where hospitals are lacking.
This is not an idea that comes from afar, but something I have experienced. In 2020, during a trip to Idjwi, my little brother fell ill; he was suffering from skin infections. Finding medication was difficult, the price was expensive and it was at least 500 kilometers (300 miles) from where we lived. So, I used the knowledge I had acquired in childhood to treat him using muravumba (Vernonia amygdalina) mixed with kifubula. He washed himself with it for five days, morning and evening. Mentioning only this, I realized that traditional medicine is a vital resource that we must promote.
This Vernonia amygdalina plant is seen in Amruth Herbal Gardens at the University of Trans-Disciplinary Health Sciences and Technology in India. The plant is also used in traditional medicine in the DRC. Image by Forestowlet via Wikimedia Commons (CCO 1.0 Universal).
Apart from my testimony, there are also written testimonies in Mbujimayi, where the good impact of traditional medicine on the well-being of the population was analyzed.
Nowadays, traditional healers are not recognized by ministries of health or universities because their medicine is perceived as not being sufficiently documented, and dosages are said not to be respected, which makes it less reassuring in the eyes of institutions — a position that I think could be described as unjust, especially when considering roughly 40% of modern medicines have been inspired by traditional uses. The World Health Organization recognizes, “Taking clues from traditional uses, new clinically effective drugs can be identified through research methods such as ethnopharmacology and reverse pharmacology.”
Recipes that speak of history
Modern medicine, by developing without integrating local knowledge, becomes a factor in cultural erasure. Despite this, in Kivu, certain plants continue to bear witness to this wisdom. Among them: nabukire (Trema orientale) is used to treat infectious diseases, cancer and cardiovascular diseases; murikuwe (Hibiscus noldeae Baker f.) helps to treat herpes, heal wounds and alleviate persistent dysmenorrhea; muragala (Ficus thonningii) is used against “witchcraft-related” illnesses (fainting or mental health issues, for example, attributed to “spells”) and in the improvement of soil fertility; gipekenya (Ricinus communis) treats poisonings and produces cooking and massage oils.
These recipes, transmitted orally, are living archives. But their fragility is worrying. Without complete documentation, without recognition, they risk disappearing with those who hold them.
A vendor sells medicinal plants at a market in Abidjan, Côte d’Ivoire. Many African plants used in traditional healing are threatened by climate change, habitat loss and other factors. Image by Aristidek5maya via Wikimedia Commons (CC BY-SA 4.0).
Conflicts, rural exodus & climate: Threats to traditional medicine
Traditional medicine suffers not only from institutional and social rejection. It is also a victim of armed conflicts and climate change. Massive population displacements, such as those caused by clashes and repeated wars in Kivu, destroy the natural environments where the plants and animals used in traditional medicine grow. Their accessibility becomes difficult in these conflict zones, and healers lose their bearings, their resources, their field of action. This even causes the rupture of cultural transmission chains.
Climate change, which is at the root of the disappearance of several species (plants and animals), presents itself as a major challenge to biodiversity. According to the International Union for Conservation of Nature, 19% of African fauna is threatened, with 1,029 species being endangered and 555 being critically endangered; meanwhile, research from 2019 has shown that more than 40% of tropical plants in the DRC and other regions are at risk of extinction. How many are used in traditional medicine? No one really knows. The absence of local research on the medicinal properties of plants and animals is a worrying void.
Medicinal plants for sale on the roadside in Cameroon. In many parts of Africa, traditional medicines are derived from plants that are threatened by climate change, habitat loss and other factors. Image by Minette Lontsie via Wikimedia Commons (CC BY-SA 4.0).
Traditional medicine presents an urgency to document
Faced with this erosion, ethnobotany and ethnozoology — sciences that study the relationships between humans and plants, humans and animals, respectively — are becoming increasingly crucial. They could allow for the documentation, validation and preservation of this knowledge. However, they remain very limited in local university programs and health policies.
The official recognition of traditional medicine would not be a step backward — no. It would be a step toward multidimensional, inclusive medicine, rooted in local realities.
Congolese traditional medicine is much more than a healing tool. It is a memory, a history, a culture and a resistance. Letting it disappear is accepting that our history will fade. Valuing it is affirming that Africa can heal itself through its own local knowledge, and it deserves a place in the scientific world.
In a country where access to health care remains difficult, I think it is time to consider traditional medicine not as a practice of the past, but as a resource for the future. A resource to protect, study and transmit.
Banner image: An aerial view of an aloe plant. Aloe vera is used in traditional medicine in the DRC. Image by Kaweesaesther via Wikimedia Commons (CC BY-SA 4.0).
Citations:
Black, C. D., Herring, M. P., Hurley, D. J., & O’Connor, P. J. (2010). Ginger (Zingiber officinale) reduces muscle pain caused by eccentric exercise. The Journal of Pain, 11(9), 894-903. doi:10.1016/j.jpain.2009.12.013
Appau, Y., Gordon, P. K., Kumordzie, S., Kyene, M. O., & Jnr, P. A. (2024). Trema orientale (L.) Blume: A review of its taxonomy, traditional uses, phytochemistry, pharmacological activities and domestication potential. Heliyon, 10(1), e23640. doi:10.1016/j.heliyon.2023.e23640
Polito, L., Bortolotti, M., Battelli, M., Calafato, G., & Bolognesi, A. (2019). Ricin: An ancient story for a timeless plant toxin. Toxins, 11(6), 324. doi:10.3390/toxins11060324
The uncertain future of DRC’s traditional medicine, a heritage to save (commentary)
LATEST NEWS
The uncertain future of DRC’s traditional medicine, a heritage to save (commentary)
See All Key Ideas
In this series, Our Letters to the Future, the sixth cohort of Mongabay’s Y. Eva Tan Conservation Reporting Fellows share their views on environmental journalism, conservation and the future for their generation, amid multiple planetary crises. Each commentary is a personal reflection, based on individual fellows’ experiences in their home communities and the insights gained through the past six months of the fellowship. The series spans the Global South — Malaysia, India, Colombia, Brazil, Nigeria and the Democratic Republic of Congo — showcasing a broad diversity of ideas and the common ground these young environmental journalists share as they embark on their careers.
Congolese traditional medicine is disappearing. Not due to a lack of usefulness, but due to a lack of space in an increasingly standardized medical world. Faced with the rise of modern medicine, supported by institutions and universities, ancestral knowledge is being forgotten and sometimes even scorned. Yet, in rural areas where hospitals are scarce and medicines expensive, it is traditional healers who provide care, relief and support. How can it be explained that this medicine, rooted in local realities, is now relegated to the background?
This is an issue I know from experience, in my family and community. In the Tembo tribe of South Kivu, to which I belong, traditional medicine relies on a deep understanding of plants, natural cycles and community rites.
I had a friend in the village who caught chickenpox. He was taken to a traditional healer, who treated him with a wash made from kifubula (Aloe vera) and several other leaves whose names I do not know. Within three days, he felt much better.
An aerial view of an aloe plant. Aloe vera is used in traditional medicine in the DRC. Image by Kaweesaesther via Wikimedia Commons (CC BY-SA 4.0).
Another friend with whom I also played football had muscle pain problems. For his relief, his father had given him all sorts of plants, but he didn’t get better. So, in 2015, he was taken to a traditional healer in the bush, near the village of Bushushu. He administered ginger root in the form of an ointment and cloves for three days. From that day until today, my friend no longer has this problem. I have also learned to heal some illnesses based on plants.
In my culture, traditional medicine is not learned in books, but in the bush, in contact with elders. The title of healer, omufumu w’ecishenzi (in the Chitembo and Mashi language), is not given lightly to just anyone, but is obtained through initiation rites, plants, transmission and social and cultural recognition.
“To be a healer is not to pick plants, their parts or those of animals at random. One must be initiated by culture, recognized and a bearer of a heritage,” confides a traditional healer and doctor from Kalehe, Muderwa Asumani.
This inner journey within each culture, once common, is tending to disappear. Young people no longer approach or follow their elders in the bush as often as in the past. They follow screens. “Today, children prefer football and social media to the transmission of our knowledge,” Asumani adds with regret. This observation is not mere nostalgia. It reveals a growing cultural divide.
Local healer Muderwa Asumani, photographed in Goma, DRC, says young people today prefer to follow football and social media; fewer are following the elders who are knowledgeable about traditional medicine. Image by Blaise Kasereka Makuta.
Traditional medicine feels forgotten
With the expansion of universities and hospitals, modern medicine is establishing itself as the reference. It is valued, funded and taught. In parallel, traditional medicine is relegated to the status of informal practice, sometimes even described as “fetish medicine” or “unscientific.” Yet, in a country where more than 70% of the population lives below the poverty line, access to modern health care remains a luxury. And yet, traditional medicine is accessible and continues to heal where hospitals are lacking.
This is not an idea that comes from afar, but something I have experienced. In 2020, during a trip to Idjwi, my little brother fell ill; he was suffering from skin infections. Finding medication was difficult, the price was expensive and it was at least 500 kilometers (300 miles) from where we lived. So, I used the knowledge I had acquired in childhood to treat him using muravumba (Vernonia amygdalina) mixed with kifubula. He washed himself with it for five days, morning and evening. Mentioning only this, I realized that traditional medicine is a vital resource that we must promote.
This Vernonia amygdalina plant is seen in Amruth Herbal Gardens at the University of Trans-Disciplinary Health Sciences and Technology in India. The plant is also used in traditional medicine in the DRC. Image by Forestowlet via Wikimedia Commons (CCO 1.0 Universal).
Apart from my testimony, there are also written testimonies in Mbujimayi, where the good impact of traditional medicine on the well-being of the population was analyzed.
Nowadays, traditional healers are not recognized by ministries of health or universities because their medicine is perceived as not being sufficiently documented, and dosages are said not to be respected, which makes it less reassuring in the eyes of institutions — a position that I think could be described as unjust, especially when considering roughly 40% of modern medicines have been inspired by traditional uses. The World Health Organization recognizes, “Taking clues from traditional uses, new clinically effective drugs can be identified through research methods such as ethnopharmacology and reverse pharmacology.”
Recipes that speak of history
Modern medicine, by developing without integrating local knowledge, becomes a factor in cultural erasure. Despite this, in Kivu, certain plants continue to bear witness to this wisdom. Among them: nabukire (Trema orientale) is used to treat infectious diseases, cancer and cardiovascular diseases; murikuwe (Hibiscus noldeae Baker f.) helps to treat herpes, heal wounds and alleviate persistent dysmenorrhea; muragala (Ficus thonningii) is used against “witchcraft-related” illnesses (fainting or mental health issues, for example, attributed to “spells”) and in the improvement of soil fertility; gipekenya (Ricinus communis) treats poisonings and produces cooking and massage oils.
These recipes, transmitted orally, are living archives. But their fragility is worrying. Without complete documentation, without recognition, they risk disappearing with those who hold them.
A vendor sells medicinal plants at a market in Abidjan, Côte d’Ivoire. Many African plants used in traditional healing are threatened by climate change, habitat loss and other factors. Image by Aristidek5maya via Wikimedia Commons (CC BY-SA 4.0).
Conflicts, rural exodus & climate: Threats to traditional medicine
Traditional medicine suffers not only from institutional and social rejection. It is also a victim of armed conflicts and climate change. Massive population displacements, such as those caused by clashes and repeated wars in Kivu, destroy the natural environments where the plants and animals used in traditional medicine grow. Their accessibility becomes difficult in these conflict zones, and healers lose their bearings, their resources, their field of action. This even causes the rupture of cultural transmission chains.
Climate change, which is at the root of the disappearance of several species (plants and animals), presents itself as a major challenge to biodiversity. According to the International Union for Conservation of Nature, 19% of African fauna is threatened, with 1,029 species being endangered and 555 being critically endangered; meanwhile, research from 2019 has shown that more than 40% of tropical plants in the DRC and other regions are at risk of extinction. How many are used in traditional medicine? No one really knows. The absence of local research on the medicinal properties of plants and animals is a worrying void.
Medicinal plants for sale on the roadside in Cameroon. In many parts of Africa, traditional medicines are derived from plants that are threatened by climate change, habitat loss and other factors. Image by Minette Lontsie via Wikimedia Commons (CC BY-SA 4.0).
Traditional medicine presents an urgency to document
Faced with this erosion, ethnobotany and ethnozoology — sciences that study the relationships between humans and plants, humans and animals, respectively — are becoming increasingly crucial. They could allow for the documentation, validation and preservation of this knowledge. However, they remain very limited in local university programs and health policies.
The official recognition of traditional medicine would not be a step backward — no. It would be a step toward multidimensional, inclusive medicine, rooted in local realities.
Congolese traditional medicine is much more than a healing tool. It is a memory, a history, a culture and a resistance. Letting it disappear is accepting that our history will fade. Valuing it is affirming that Africa can heal itself through its own local knowledge, and it deserves a place in the scientific world.
In a country where access to health care remains difficult, I think it is time to consider traditional medicine not as a practice of the past, but as a resource for the future. A resource to protect, study and transmit.
Banner image: An aerial view of an aloe plant. Aloe vera is used in traditional medicine in the DRC. Image by Kaweesaesther via Wikimedia Commons (CC BY-SA 4.0).
Citations:
Black, C. D., Herring, M. P., Hurley, D. J., & O’Connor, P. J. (2010). Ginger (Zingiber officinale) reduces muscle pain caused by eccentric exercise. The Journal of Pain, 11(9), 894-903. doi:10.1016/j.jpain.2009.12.013
Appau, Y., Gordon, P. K., Kumordzie, S., Kyene, M. O., & Jnr, P. A. (2024). Trema orientale (L.) Blume: A review of its taxonomy, traditional uses, phytochemistry, pharmacological activities and domestication potential. Heliyon, 10(1), e23640. doi:10.1016/j.heliyon.2023.e23640
Polito, L., Bortolotti, M., Battelli, M., Calafato, G., & Bolognesi, A. (2019). Ricin: An ancient story for a timeless plant toxin. Toxins, 11(6), 324. doi:10.3390/toxins11060324
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