The seemingly endless crisis in North Kivu is making a rare foray into the international news agenda. (Recent reports: New York Times, Reuters, BBC.) It’s more complicated than this, but here’s some of the recent background:

Not so long ago, North Kivu was controlled by the Rwandan-backed RCD-Goma, a legacy of the 1998-2004 conflict which came to be known as ‘Africa’s First World War’ because so many people died and because so many neighbouring countries sent troops to fight and plunder as the alliance of convenience that had helped Laurent Kabila topple Mobutu in 1997 fell apart.

As part of the power-sharing agreement that ended the war (but certainly not insecurity in the east), the RCD was given nearly a fifth of the seats in the National Assembly, but it was deeply unpopular, representing Rwandan interests and dominance of the Tutsi minority. When the Congolese people finally had a chance to vote for their representatives in 2006, the RCD held onto only 15 seats out of 500.

President Joseph Kabila owed a large part of his success in those elections to his overwhelming support in the war-ravaged eastern provinces, where he took credit for the UN-managed, internationally-financed elections and convinced the population that he would bring peace and security by ending the plague of foreign armed groups and local militias.

Unfortunately, the latter task fell to cautious, over-stretched UN forces and a corrupt, inept national army that was composed of former warring factions. With the huge country split into myriad, inaccessible local enclaves, it was never going to be easy to resolve all the problems of corruption, mismanagement and inter-ethnic power struggles. But the immediate post-election period offered a real window of opportunity for the new government to unite the country behind a clear vision and (with UN support) determined backing for the rule of law. They blew it.

Through costly trial and error in militia-infested Ituri (bordering Uganda), some evidence emerged that the formula of newly trained Congolese brigades backed by (Pakistani, South African, Guatemalan and at one stage European) peacekeepers ready and able to project and use force could produce results.

But the army was rotten, and those who called for senior officers (including untrained former militia leaders) to be vetted for war crimes and prevented from pocketing all the pay were repeatedly told that such niceties would have to wait until later. Ordinary soldiers were left to fend for themselves, in the fine tradition established by Mobutu in his decline, with predictable effects on their morale and reputation.

When the Congolese army was sent to oust Laurent Nkunda’s CNDP rebels from their strongholds in the hills of North Kivu late last year, they relied on overwhelming numbers, lots of new weapons, and dangerous alliances with local and foreign Hutu militia groups (I saw both in Masisi when researching for Human Rights Watch). UN support was limited to logistics and medical evacuations, partly for fear of becoming complicit in war crimes. As the CNDP ceded ground, the army bombarded empty hilltops and proclaimed great victories. In a dramatic turnaround, the army was routed as soon as the rebels counterattacked, abandoning their uniforms and looting as they fled.

Diplomats scrambled to salvage the situation. A ceasefire was agreed, followed by a dubious peace deal that contained the conflict while acknowledging and cementing the status quo. Clashes and human rights violations continued even as the deal was being negotiated, so the local population and civil society remained deeply skeptical of the intentions of the signatories.

Referring the Congolese army’s alliance with the FDLR (a Rwandan Hutu rebel group led by former genocidaires) and frequent ceasefire violations, the CNDP announced its withdrawal from the peace process. On 2 October, media-savvy Nkunda told the BBC he was ready to expand his operations to ‘liberate the people of the Congo’. That statement must have earned him a lot of people’s undivided attention.

Now the CNDP have once again humiliated the Congolese army by forcing them to flee strategic positions across North Kivu, tellingly beginning with the stretch of Virunga National Park which offers a supply line from Rwanda. (The CNDP certainly recruits from Congolese Tutsi refugees in Rwanda, and there are frequent allegations that they have covert support from the Rwandan army as well.)

UN troops tried to block the advance, stationing APCs to block the roads into Rutshuru, north of Goma. But the CNDP works in small, mobile groups, so they simply bypassed the barricades and overran the town, sabotaging the mobile phone network as they did so.

Large numbers have already fled Goma. Now the remaining population, including tens of thousands of displaced people who have nowhere left to go, is huddled and waiting to see what happens next. They are bitterly disappointed by their own government and have no faith left in the UN. The years of conflict have furnished them with numerous nasty memories from which to compose worst-case scenarios. They heard gunfire all night, but cannot tell who’s doing the shooting: rebels, soldiers on a looting spree, or just firing in the air?

International relief workers and UN staff are gathered in two fortified compounds in Goma, sleeping on the floor, eating rations and trying to keep up with the news to see if they will be evacuated.

Nkunda declared a ceasefire last night. Is his plan to leave the CNDP as de facto authority of a big chunk of fertile, mineral-rich North Kivu, or do his ambitions really extend even further? Aware of the regional implications, the UN Security Council is anxiously pondering its options, including the rapid deployment of a UN-mandated European force.

This guy got his marching orders today and is setting off to join his unit in an operational zone near Rumangabo in North Kivu, eastern Congo. Transport is not provided, so he’ll probably flag down vehicles along the way. He won’t have to pay… Interesting that he’s taking the stereo too.

The army is officially observing a ceasefire, but various armed groups are active and clashing with each other: in the past week the FDLR (Rwandan Hutu militia embedded in Congo since 94) have had run ins with the CNDP (led by a dissident Tutsi general), PARECO (a coalition of so-called self-defence groups) and Mayi Mayi (localised, opportunist militia groups identifiable by the foliage and lucky charms they wear).

Some Mayi Mayi groups have been recruiting in North Kivu just to swell their numbers in time for MONUC inspections following January’s ceasefire agreement. The more troops the commanders can claim to control, the better their bargaining power in the hunt for cushy army posts.

We were carrying supplies for a hospital on the other side of the rebel-held mountains. I knew that heavy rains had rendered some sections of the road almost impassable, that our cargo might tempt looters, and that war was looming. I did not expect the 50-mile journey to take 24 hours.

We negotiated the various checkpoints without difficulty, but well into the mountains, the deep mud defeated our driver. Time and again, we dug ourselves out, but the light was fading and we decided it would be safer to stop than to continue in the dark.

The man who claimed to know the area best said we were in no man’s land. Rebels controlled the area immediately to our north; the army had been advancing from the south. Neither side, he thought, was likely to risk descending to the road from their hilltop vantage points. Nobody seemed greatly cheered by this assessment.

Our colleagues hadn’t heard from us, so they called senior contacts on both sides to seek assurances that we would come to no harm. One commander soon confirmed our position, adding that we had grilled corn-on-the-cob around a little roadside fire before sleeping in the cab. We never noticed his scouts.

Leaving at dawn, we fell silent as we passed through a series of abandoned villages. Looters had left doors swinging open; furniture littered the street. The sense of desolation lifted as we neared our destination and saw signs of life again: children, cattle, wood smoke.

That night, a sound like distant thunder signalled the outbreak of heavy fighting along the road we had taken. Nobody would be going that way for a while.

(The setting is North Kivu, eastern Congo, at the end of last year. I submitted this to The Observer Magazine’s ‘Incredible Journeys’ section, which features a variety of very short travel anecdotes. They were too busy to write back, though, so what the hell, here it is.)