The news from eastern Congo is stark: 65 dead from Ebola, and British medical teams are being placed on standby. This is not just a public health alert. It is a reminder of how the old imperial reflexes die hard.
The logic of containment, of sending white coats to the frontier, is deeply embedded in our national psyche. But what does it mean for the people of Goma, the city on the frontline? They have seen this before.
In 2018, a similar outbreak was met with a show of international force, vaccines flown in, military guard. Yet the virus found its way through the cracks. The human cost is not just in the 65 deaths but in the suspicion it breeds.
Locals whisper about the motives of foreign doctors. The cultural shift is subtle but real: a creeping distrust of the very people who come to help. And for the British teams on standby, they are perhaps the most visible face of a global system that struggles to balance compassion with self-interest.
As they wait for the call, one wonders if they will be seen as saviours or as symbols of a world that only ever visits when disaster strikes.
