top of page
Search

This Boy Hasn’t Spoken Since He Watched His Mother Die What the Headlines Won’t Tell You About Congo - Mental health crisis DRC

  • Writer: Sebastian Sivillica
    Sebastian Sivillica
  • 4 hours ago
  • 3 min read

Cover of the memoir 'I Saw the Silence' by Paolo Sebastiano Silvilli, placed on a minimalist desk with sunlight and shadows a powerful book about mental health and survival in Congo

Mental health crisis DRC

There are places where silence doesn’t mean peace. It means trauma no one dares name aloud.

In the deep shadows of the Democratic Republic of Congo, silence is not absence it’s evidence. It’s the space left behind after bombs stop falling, after soldiers disappear into forests, after screams become memories too painful to describe. It's the breath before a child answers a question they’ve never been asked: “How do you survive when the war never really ends?”


For years, we’ve scrolled past headlines like “Unrest in Congo”, “Clashes with Rebels”, or the occasional stark image of children with distant eyes and dust-covered faces. But behind those headlines are stories that rarely make the news — stories about trauma, resilience, survival, and healing that can’t be measured in policy reports or summarized in war statistics.


This is where I Saw the Silence begins.



About the Book

Front cover of the memoir 'I Saw the Silence' by Paolo Sebastiano Silvilli, a powerful exploration of mental health and survival in Congo’s conflict zones.








I Saw the Silence: A Memoir of Mental Health and Survival in Congo

 



isn’t just a memoir it’s a reckoning. Written from one mans experience embedded in conflict affected communities across the DRC, this book captures the unheard truths buried in Congo’s most vulnerable places.


From quiet villages still haunted by war to overcrowded mental health wards without mattresses, this is a story told in whispers of child soldiers who haven’t spoken since losing their families, women who carry invisible wounds, and a country where trauma has no translation, only ritual.

“This book is not about war. It’s about what war leaves behind. And what it means to truly listen when no one else will.”

What Makes This Book Different

  • It doesn’t sensationalize trauma. It humanizes it.

  • It’s not a travelogue. It’s a frontline mental health narrative.

  • It’s not about fixing Congo. It’s about witnessing it — through the eyes of those who’ve survived.

  • It doesn’t offer easy hope. It offers honest truth — and the kind of healing that begins with being seen.



The Facts That Inspired the Memoir

Empty rusted hospital bed under a barred window in a crumbling mental health ward in Congo, with peeling walls and a torn medical file on the ground — symbolizing neglect and forgotten lives.



















The DRC has fewer than 1 psychiatrist per 1 million people.

  • Decades of war have left millions internally displaced, many without access to psychological care.

  • Trauma survivors often turn to faith healers and spiritual leaders because formal systems don’t exist.

  • Children conscripted as soldiers face lifelong psychological wounds — many are never even diagnosed.

  • There is no national trauma recovery strategy despite generations affected by conflict.


    Why This Story Matters Now


Young Congolese boy sitting alone in the dirt holding stones, silent and barefoot, with a rusted pot beside him and an armored vehicle looming in the background — capturing the emotional toll of conflict on children.


Because silence kills. And not just in Congo.

It kills when stories go untold. It kills when children who’ve seen too much stop speaking altogether. It kills when women who’ve survived assault are told it was God’s will. It kills when the global community looks away — because the crisis doesn’t trend anymore.

This memoir doesn’t just expose the gaps in Congo’s mental health system. It invites you to fill them — with awareness, support, and action.

Who This Book Is For

  • Humanitarians, journalists, mental health professionals.

  • Readers of memoir, human rights narratives, and trauma literature.

  • Anyone who believes that silence is never the end of the story.

  • Anyone who’s ever asked, “Why don’t we hear more about Congo?”



Take Action


Every copy supports more awareness, visibility, and ultimately advocacy for the survivors who shared their stories. Every reader becomes a witness.

Your donation helps fund real-world mental health support, education, and trauma-informed care in the Congo. Let’s rebuild what war tried to erase.



Silence is a choice. So is breaking it.

 
 
 

Comments


bottom of page