“The day will come when history will speak. But it will not be the history that will be taught in Brussels, Paris, Washington or the United Nations… Africa will write its own history and in both north and south it will be a history of glory and dignity.”

— Patrice Émery Lumumba

A Dream Bigger Than One Man

When the Congo won its independence from Belgium in 1960, it should have marked the beginning of a bold new chapter in African self-determination. It was the largest and most mineral-rich colony in sub-Saharan Africa, and its freedom signaled hope for the continent’s political and economic rebirth. At the forefront of that promise stood a 34-year-old man with fire in his voice and freedom in his veins: Patrice Lumumba.

But history had other plans. Barely seven months after assuming office as Congo’s first democratically elected Prime Minister, Lumumba was arrested, tortured, and assassinated. His body was dissolved in acid to erase any trace of the man who dared to speak truth to imperial power.

What exactly happened to the dream he died for?

Photo Credit: The African Report

Lumumba’s Vision: Dignity, Unity, and a Free Congo

To understand the tragedy of Patrice Lumumba is to understand that he was not just a political figure, he was a symbol. A symbol of Black liberation in a world still drunk on colonialism. A voice for the millions who had been silenced, subjugated, and shackled for centuries.

In his powerful independence speech on June 30, 1960, a bold, defiant address that shocked King Baudouin and the Western world, Lumumba rejected the paternalistic version of Belgian “civilization” and instead spoke of the horrors of colonization, condemning the forced labour, racial discrimination, land theft, and murder.

But his dream was not rooted in bitterness, it was rooted in hope. Lumumba envisioned a Congo that would chart its own course. A Congo united, self-governed, and economically sovereign.

He believed the wealth of the Congo, from its copper to its cobalt, should benefit its people, not foreign powers or puppet elites.

He aligned himself with pan-Africanists like Kwame Nkrumah, pushing for African unity and cooperation, rejecting the East-West divide of the Cold War in favour of African interests. But neutrality is dangerous in a world divided by ideology and greed.

Photo Credit: Dreams Everyone

The Enemies of the Dream

From the moment he took office, Lumumba was a marked man. And that was not because he was corrupt, incompetent, or violent, but because he dared to imagine an Africa that did not beg for bread crumbs from its former masters.

Belgium, unwilling to fully let go of its grip, kept control of Congo’s military, economy, and administration. Within weeks of independence, chaos erupted: mutinies, secessionist movements (notably in mineral-rich Katanga), and external interference which was all orchestrated, partly, by Belgium.

But more damning was the role played by the United States and its Cold War paranoia. Fearing that Lumumba would align with the Soviet Union, the CIA authorised plans to remove him. They even considered poisoning him.

As declassified documents later revealed, the U.S. and Belgium worked closely with Congolese elites and military leaders to neutralise him.

There is Joseph-Désiré Mobutu, Lumumba’s army chief and supposed ally, who betrayed him and staged a coup with Western backing. Lumumba was captured, handed over to Katangan rebels, and executed on January 17, 1961.

Western governments called it “stability.” But what they killed was the beating heart of African liberation.

After Lumumba: Mobutuism and the Rape of Congo

In Lumumba’s place rose Mobutu Sese Seko, a flamboyant, authoritarian, and staunchly pro-Western. For over three decades, Mobutu ruled Zaire (as he renamed the Congo) with iron fists. He enriched himself with billions of dollars, while hospitals crumbled, schools closed, and roads disappeared.

Mobutu was a perfect client: he allowed multinational corporations to mine Congo’s riches while keeping his people poor and dependent. Western leaders turned a blind eye to his kleptocracy, after all, he wasn’t a “communist.” In a cruel twist, Lumumba’s betrayal became Mobutu’s meal ticket.

The country, once poised to lead Africa’s renaissance, became synonymous with corruption, war, and despair.

Even after Mobutu’s fall in 1997, Congo has never truly healed. Two brutal civil wars followed, dragging in over seven African nations and costing an estimated 5 million lives, which is recorded as one of the deadliest conflicts since World War II.

Today, despite being one of the richest countries on Earth in terms of natural resources, the Democratic Republic of Congo remains one of the poorest, its people exploited by foreign interests and local warlords alike.

Echoes of Lumumba in a Restless Continent

But dreams, unlike bodies, cannot be buried. Across Africa, Lumumba's name is still whispered in protests, spoken at summits, chanted in the streets. His face appears on flyers, his speeches are taught in classrooms, and his legacy is invoked by youth demanding change.

In recent years, a new wave of pan-African energy has swept across the continent. From the EndSARS protests in Nigeria to the anti-French movements in Mali and Burkina Faso, the calls are familiar. The familiar call of sovereignty, dignity, and economic freedom.

Even Congo’s youth are speaking up. They are tired of seeing their mineral power Western tech while their communities lack clean water. Tired of being the cautionary tale, the exploited giant.

In 2022, Belgium returned a gold-capped tooth, which stands as the only known physical remnant of Lumumba, to his family. A symbolic gesture, decades too late. What Congo needs is not souvenirs of its martyrs, but justice for their dreams.

What If?

It is hard not to ask the question: what if Lumumba had lived? Would the Congo have become Africa’s anchor of progress and unity? Would the dream of a United States of Africa have materialized? Would we have had fewer wars, less debt, and stronger economies?

Perhaps. Perhaps not. But what is certain is that his assassination set a dangerous precedent that African voices could be silenced with bullets, that dreams of liberation could be drowned in acid, that the old powers would stop at nothing to preserve the old order.

The Dream Is Not Dead, It Is Delayed

Patrice Lumumba’s dream was never just about the Congo. It was about the possibility of an Africa that controls its destiny, owns its wealth, and speaks with one voice. It was about freeing not just the land, but the African mind.

Today, more than 60 years later, that dream remains unfulfilled but not forgotten, not futile, just postponed.

In a world where colonialism has changed clothes but not character, where foreign soldiers still walk African soil, and where our natural resources still enrich others, Lumumba’s words haunt and inspire:

"The struggle continues. And I know that, in the end, we shall win.”