Marie-Hélène Roux’s “Muganga, The One Who Treats”: An Emotional Biopic On Congolese Humanitarian and Nobel Peace Prize winner, Dr. Denis Mukwege 

In Swahili, “muganga” refers to a healer, preferably a medical doctor, in this case, Dr Denis Mukwege, a humanitarian and medical practitioner who founded Panzi Hospital where he committed to the treatment of female victims of sexual violence during the armed conflicts of the 1990s in the Democratic Republic of Congo. The biographical drama, Muganga, The One Who Treats, delves into the life and work of the 2018 Nobel Peace Prize winner, focusing mostly on his humanitarian contributions as the world’s leading activist for several thousands of women that have been raped and mutilated in his home country by rebel soldiers. Seeking inspiration from the book Panzi whose authors are Mukwege and his Belgian partner Guy-Bernard Cadière, the film is directed by Marie-Hélène Roux, a Gabon-born French filmmaker, and co-written with Jean-René Lemoine.

Shot entirely in French, Muganga is a richly inspiring and incisive work that attends to key moments of Mukwege’s existence and career in his volatile motherland. The story spotlights the character of Mukwege, embodied by Isaach de Bankolé, and his colleague Cadière, portrayed by Vincent Macaigne. Both men, as colleagues and tools for driving the narrative, provide unmistakable authenticity and intensity, sometimes complementing each other, other times at opposite sides of the debate over issues of popular interest. In spite of their ideological differences, the relationship remains marked by mutual respect and trust. One of the areas in which they differ is religion, with the Congolese being a Christian faithful and the  Belgian, an atheist. However, as professionals, the men are logical enough not to allow this to trump their passion for humanity.

Another such difference is noticeable in their attitude and stance over abortion, which is illegal in DR Congo. In a scene, they disagree over the ethics of abortion especially for traumatized victims of sexual abuse, as in the case of the pregnant Busara who vehemently refuses to have a baby. While Mukwege, held back by his religious and moral convictions, refuses to grant her request, Cadière argues for the permissibility of abortion in the given circumstance. That moment highlights the subtle ways in which faith, morality, law and medical science clash. Throughout the film, Mukwege’s values are made bold and conspicuous, his methods professional, his attitude towards the women empathetic and respectful, his integrity unstained, his voice so vociferous that it attracts disdainful reactions and threats from his antagonists. The film captures an assassination attempt on his life, which he escapes by a hair’s breadth.

And yet Muganga is sensitive enough not to  risk decentering the actual victims of the narrative. While the film engages us with the psychological makeup of its main subject, it remains a service to the women’s struggles, amplifying their voices and pains at the behest of the camera. It appears director Roux is careful to avoid pandering to suffering porn as she lends credence to the women’s attempts and efforts at rehabilitation and self rediscovery. That way, victimhood is reconstructed not as a dark, bottomless pit but as a temporary setback with the prospects of resuscitation.

Rape and sexual violence are considered instruments of psychological warfare and are punishable as war crimes by international bodies. While DR Congo has been described as the “rape capital of the world”, with the country faced by pockets of crises and unrest throughout its history, the astronomical rate of sexual violence stems from the 1990s during the autocratic reign of Congolese dictator Mobutu Sese Seko. At the time, following the 1994 Rwandan genocide that led to the mass killing of Tutsis, many Hutu extremist militias infiltrated  mostly the eastern part of DR Congo where they regrouped but also perpetuated  crime and violence. As the Congolese forces and their allies took severe military actions, the Hutu rebels remained defiant and despicable, raping, kidnapping, torturing and murdering at  will. Decades later, there continues to be large-scale incidents of sexual exploitation, abuse and coercion in the country, with approximately 27 million people believed to require humanitarian assistance as of October 2025.

Muganga, by extension, transcends the period in which the film is originally set, as it continues to honor the many suppressed  voices and unheard concerns of the sexually violated and abused in contemporary DR Congo. Here the filmmaker contrives a narrative with powerful themes that will forever remain relevant, either as a toast to history or as an evergreen reminder of the sporadic efforts geared towards preaching the gospel of humanitarianism and combatting sexual violence and other war crimes anywhere in the world.