‘I’ve Never Been Counted’: DR Congo’s First Census in 42 Years

The Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) is conducting its first census in 42 years, raising crucial questions about what it means to be counted when you’ve never been seen by the state. For millions of Congolese like Heritier Ramazani, who has grown up without official documents confirming his citizenship, this moment is about more than just population figures – it’s about recognition, identity, and being recorded in a country where the state’s presence often feels tenuous.

The DRC’s last census was conducted in 1984, when the country was still known as Zaire. Since then, the nation has been plagued by decades of political upheaval, armed conflict, and rapid population growth. According to the World Bank, the country’s population now stands at around 112 million people, with an annual growth rate of roughly 3.2 percent. However, these numbers mask a far more profound issue: the widespread absence of identity documents.

In Bunia, the capital of Ituri province in northeastern DRC, residents like Gedeon Katembo are cautiously optimistic about the census. For them, it’s not just about being counted; it’s about creating a stronger system for issuing identity documents that can serve more than just voter registration cards. As Katembo aptly puts it, “It is essential to know how many Congolese people there are in the country and around the world.” This statement resonates deeply with development analysts who argue that accurate population data will enable authorities to make informed decisions about resource allocation.

However, conducting a census in a country as vast and fragmented as the DRC poses monumental challenges. With over 2.3 million square kilometers of territory to cover, many communities remain inaccessible due to poor roads, limited infrastructure, and ongoing conflict. Henri Marie Kazadi, technical coordinator of the Central Census Office at the National Institute of Statistics, acknowledges these difficulties: “The census is digital; we will be using tablets and smartphones to collect data.” But in eastern DRC, where armed groups persist, reaching every community will be a significant hurdle.

Beyond logistical concerns lies a more insidious issue: politics. Efforts to establish a national identification system have been stalled for years, with some opposition figures and civil society groups fearing that population figures could become politically contested. The government denies any ulterior motives, insisting that the census is a routine exercise designed to improve national planning.

Yet, Prince Bitaki, an opposition politician, astutely observes: “A census is all well and good, but why carry it out when the country is heading towards a crucial moment when we should instead be preparing for the upcoming elections?” This question cuts to the heart of the matter: what does it mean to count people in a context where politics often clashes with reality?

For development analysts like Maneno Kakule Ndavugha, the value of the census lies not just in providing numbers but in helping authorities make informed decisions based on accurate data. Reliable population figures could determine which areas require schools, hospitals, roads, and other essential services. But for residents like Ramazani and Katembo, the census is about something more fundamental: being seen by the state.

As the DRC embarks on this long-overdue exercise in enumeration, one thing is clear: the stakes are high. Will this census be a meaningful step towards building a more inclusive and equitable society, or will it merely serve as another iteration of the same old patterns of exclusion? The answer lies not just in the numbers but in how we choose to interpret them – and what we do with the knowledge they reveal about our collective humanity.

For millions of Congolese, being counted will be a moment of profound significance. It’s a chance to emerge from the shadows of invisibility and claim their place in a nation that has long struggled to recognize them. The census may not change everything, but it can serve as a starting point – a recognition of what has been overlooked for far too long.