How access to healthcare is helping refugees manage chronic diseases in Rwanda

Just past midday at Kiziba Health Centre, Bukiri Matayo, a Congolese refugee, steps out of the consultation room looking hopeful – he has just learned that his blood sugar levels are stable today. For him, this news brings a brief reprieve from many years of health worries.

“There is an improvement now,” he says as he heads to a nearby pharmacy to collect medicine for the next few days.

“Before I knew what I was suffering from, my foot would always get dry after I bathed and I always felt like I didn’t want to eat, but I was always thirsty,” he explains. “I would drink water, then go to the restroom, come back, and drink again, over and over. Even at night, I kept drinking water and going to the restroom.”

“At some point I went to the hospital, they tested me and told me I had diabetes, and that it was already very serious. From then until today, diabetes has remained with me,” he reveals.

Matayo, 54, who has been living in Kiziba Refugee Camp since 1996, has been battling diabetes for the last fifteen years. And since then, he relies on regular testing to know his health status and medicine to cope with his illness.

“There was a time I left home and went to the fields to see where my wife was farming. While I was there, it rained heavily and I collapsed into a coma. I only left that place after people carried me – I was not aware of anything. When I arrived here [at health centre], they took care of me and gave me medicine that brought me back to life. I am very thankful to them, and I thank God,” he says. “Back then, there were times I stayed in the house and even lost my vision. I could lie down and not even recognize the door to go out. But when I got insulin, things improved a bit.”

Matayo is one of the thousands of refugees living with chronic illnesses in refugee camps across Rwanda who require regular medical treatment to survive. In 2025, for instance, camp-based health centres across the country delivered over 44,000 consultations for chronic diseases, mainly asthma (28%), diabetes (11%), and other non-communicable diseases.

Thanks to the generous support from France, UNHCR, the UN Refugee Agency, through its implementing partners such as Alight and Save the Children, was able to provide healthcare to thousands of refugees like Matayo who are in need.

Refugees and asylum seekers across all refugee camps and transit centres – home to over 138,000 people – were also able to access primary healthcare when they needed it most, through 10 health centres, while those requiring advanced care were supported through referrals to tertiary hospitals.

For those forced to flee, this life-saving assistance helps ensure that life can continue despite displacement. In a month, for instance, Matayo explains that he can go to the Kiziba camp-based health centre about three times for consultations or collecting medicine.

“If I had not received this help, it would have been over for me,” he points out. “What I mean is, from what I have seen, diabetes can be controlled with medicine, but it is not cured 100%. The medicine helps reduce it. But when I don’t get the medicine, my sugar rises and can go beyond control, and it can stop the heart.”

As humanitarian funding declines, UNHCR’s ability to support vulnerable refugees like Matayo is under growing strain, forcing difficult choices that prioritize emergency and life-saving referrals, with non-urgent cases placed on hold or delayed.

For Matayo, continued access to healthcare means the only hope to stay alive.

“If we could be helped to regularly get test strips and insulin, and if medicine was available, it would help us survive longer,” he says.