In the Democratic Republic of the Congo, a disease older than memory is once again measuring the distance between human solidarity and human suffering. The Bundibugyo strain of Ebola — rare, untreatable by approved means, and now responsible for 2,642 deaths among 5,515 confirmed cases — has become the deadliest outbreak in the country's history, its fatality rate climbing toward one in every two. What unfolds in Ituri and North Kivu is not merely a medical emergency but a reckoning with the consequences of broken trust, armed conflict, and the uneven geography of global care.
DRC Ebola outbreak hits 5,515 cases as fatality rate climbs to 48 percent
2,642 people have died from Ebola in the DRC outbreak; approximately 160 health workers infected with 45 deaths; widespread displacement and attacks on medical personnel reported.
Almost one in every two people who contract the virus dies from it.
Mark
Why has the fatality rate doubled so quickly, from 20 percent to 48 percent in just a few months?
Mimi
It's not that the virus became more lethal. It's that the outbreak has spread into areas where people can't access treatment, where health systems have collapsed, and where fear keeps people from seeking help until they're critically ill. A virus kills more when people die at home instead of in a treatment center.
Mark
The Bundibugyo strain—is that why there's no vaccine ready?
Mimi
Partly. It's a rarer variant, so less research has been done on it. The Ervebo vaccine showed promise in animal trials, but we're essentially learning as we go. And even if the vaccine were perfect, you need to get it into people's arms. Sixteen thousand doses arrived, but you need seventy thousand, and you need them distributed across provinces where roads are unsafe and trust is broken.
Mark
You mentioned trust. What does that actually look like on the ground?
Mimi
Communities have seen governments fail them before. When armed groups attack health clinics, when health workers disappear, when officials don't show up with supplies or payment—people stop believing anything they're told. So when a health worker arrives asking about symptoms, people hide. They don't report cases. They don't bring sick family members for treatment. The virus spreads in silence.
Mark
But you said contact tracing improved from 30 to 85 percent. How did that happen?
Mimi
In the places where it worked—Uganda, parts of Ituri and South Kivu—there was decisive leadership and community engagement. People were brought into the response, not just told what to do. When you show up with respect and transparency, some trust returns. But those are islands in a much larger sea of conflict and displacement.
Mark
What does "scaled up two to threefold" actually mean in practical terms?
Mimi
It means more vaccine doses, more protective equipment for health workers, more money to pay them on time, more rapid diagnostic tests, better hospitals with real supportive care. Right now, the response is stretched so thin that it can only reach a fraction of cases. To actually contain this, you need to be everywhere at once.
Mark
Is there a scenario where this becomes a global problem?
Mimi
Yes. If it reaches a neighboring country with lower vaccination rates and weaker health infrastructure, it could spread quickly. The WHO says global risk is low right now, but that's because the outbreak is still mostly contained geographically. That containment is fragile.
El Pulso
- The fatality rate has nearly doubled since June — from 20% to 48% — meaning the virus is now killing almost every other person it reaches, a trajectory that puts this outbreak on course to surpass the 2014–2016 West African epidemic's death toll of 11,000.
- The Bundibugyo strain carries a particular cruelty: no approved vaccine or treatment exists for it, and the 16,250 doses of a promising but unlicensed alternative that arrived Friday represent a fraction of what WHO says is needed.
- Armed groups have attacked medical facilities, health workers are being targeted, and communities fractured by years of conflict are refusing to report cases or cooperate with contact tracers — dismantling containment from the inside.
- Contact tracing has surged from 30% to over 85% coverage since June, and Uganda along with several health zones has interrupted transmission entirely, proving the outbreak can be stopped where trust and resources align.
- Pope Leo and global health officials are now calling for a two-to-threefold scaling of the international response, with experts warning that spread beyond the DRC's borders into lower-immunity populations could trigger a catastrophe of global proportions.
In the Democratic Republic of the Congo, a disease older than memory is once again measuring the distance between human solidarity and human suffering. The Bundibugyo strain of Ebola — rare, untreatable by approved means, and now responsible for 2,642 deaths among 5,515 confirmed cases — has become the deadliest outbreak in the country's history, its fatality rate climbing toward one in every two. What unfolds in Ituri and North Kivu is not merely a medical emergency but a reckoning with the consequences of broken trust, armed conflict, and the uneven geography of global care.
The Democratic Republic of the Congo is now recording 5,515 confirmed Ebola cases and 2,642 deaths — a fatality rate of nearly 48%, almost double what it was in early June. Fifty-one new cases emerged in the latest reporting period alone, concentrated in Ituri and North Kivu, provinces already torn apart by armed conflict. This is the deadliest Ebola outbreak in the country's history, and it carries a particular burden: the causative agent is the Bundibugyo strain, for which no approved vaccine or treatment exists.
The WHO has pledged 70,000 doses of Ervebo — a licensed Ebola vaccine that showed promise against this strain in animal trials — and 16,250 doses arrived on Friday. But officials are candid about the shortfall. The response, they say, must scale up two to threefold to have any hope of containing the spread. Declared in mid-May as the DRC's 17th Ebola epidemic, the outbreak has been designated a Public Health Emergency of International Concern, the WHO's highest alert level, with the designation extending to neighboring Uganda.
There are fragile signs of progress. Contact tracing coverage has climbed from 30% in June to over 85% now, and Uganda along with several health zones in Ituri and South Kivu have managed to interrupt transmission entirely. But these gains are localized and precarious. Armed conflict has made it nearly impossible for health workers to move freely; medical facilities have been attacked and personnel targeted. A mobile population carries the virus across regions, and perhaps most critically, communities have lost faith in authorities — making them reluctant to report cases, seek care, or cooperate with tracers.
Public health consultant Abdulsalami Nasidi, who helped found the Africa CDC, told Al Jazeera the outbreak was 'getting out of hand,' warning that if it spreads to neighboring populations with lower immunity, 'it will be a disaster.' Approximately 160 health workers have been infected and around 45 have died. On Sunday, Pope Leo offered prayers for the DRC and urged the international community to act with urgency, stressing that local communities must be partners — not just recipients — in the response. Experts agree: vaccines and protocols alone will not end this. What is also required is trust, sustained resources, and a recognition that what is happening in the DRC is no longer only the DRC's crisis to bear.
The numbers keep climbing, and the death rate keeps pace. As of Sunday, the Democratic Republic of the Congo was counting 5,515 confirmed cases of Ebola and 2,642 deaths—a fatality rate that has nearly doubled since early June, when it hovered around 20 percent. Now, almost one in every two people who contract the virus dies from it. Fifty-one new cases emerged in just the latest reporting period, concentrated in Ituri and North Kivu provinces, two regions already fractured by armed conflict and mistrust.
This is the deadliest Ebola outbreak in the DRC's history, and it arrived with a particular cruelty: the virus is the Bundibugyo strain, rarer than the variants that have driven past epidemics. There is no approved vaccine or treatment specifically for it. The WHO has pledged 70,000 doses of Ervebo, a licensed Ebola vaccine that showed promise in animal trials against this strain, and 16,250 doses arrived in the country on Friday. But officials are blunt about the gap between what has arrived and what is needed. The response, they say, must scale up by two to threefold to reach every affected area and actually contain the spread.
The outbreak was declared in mid-May, making it the DRC's 17th Ebola epidemic. The WHO designated it a Public Health Emergency of International Concern—the highest alert level—and the designation extends to neighboring Uganda. The trajectory is ominous. The 2014-2016 West African outbreak, the deadliest on record, killed more than 11,000 people. At the current pace, the DRC is on track to surpass it.
Yet there are small signs of progress buried in the grim statistics. Contact tracing—the work of finding and monitoring people exposed to infected individuals—has improved sharply, from 30 percent coverage in June to more than 85 percent now. Uganda and several health zones in Ituri and South Kivu have managed to interrupt transmission entirely, proof that rapid detection, clear leadership, and community cooperation can break the chain. But these successes are fragile and localized.
The obstacles are structural and severe. Armed conflict in the affected provinces has made it nearly impossible for health workers to move freely or establish stable treatment centers. Medical facilities have been attacked. Personnel have been targeted. There is a mobile working population that moves between regions, carrying the virus with them. Critical infrastructure barely exists. And perhaps most damaging: communities in the outbreak zones have lost faith in authorities, making them reluctant to report cases, seek treatment, or cooperate with contact tracers.
Abdulsalami Nasidi, a public health consultant who helped establish the Africa Centres for Disease Control and Prevention, told Al Jazeera that the outbreak was "getting out of hand." He pointed to weak infection control measures and the breakdown of trust between officials and affected communities as the primary drivers of continued transmission. His warning carried a global dimension: "This is no longer just a national or regional issue; it is a global issue. If it spreads to neighbouring places with lower immunity, it will be a disaster."
The WHO currently assesses the risk to the global public as low, but the danger inside the DRC remains very high. About 160 health workers have been infected with the virus, and approximately 45 have died—a toll that reflects both the intensity of the outbreak and the hazards faced by those trying to stop it. On Sunday, Pope Leo offered prayers for the DRC and called on the international community to respond with urgency, emphasizing the need to involve local communities in prevention efforts. The pontiff's intervention underscored what experts have been saying for weeks: this outbreak will not be contained by vaccines and protocols alone. It will require trust, resources, and a commitment that extends far beyond the borders of one country.
Citas Notables
This is no longer just a national or regional issue; it is a global issue. If it spreads to neighbouring places with lower immunity, it will be a disaster.— Abdulsalami Nasidi, public health consultant
I urge the international community to respond in a way that also involves local communities in prevention efforts to save as many lives as possible.— Pope Leo
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