Life in Lorenzo Marques (Maputo)Chapter - Chapter 5

My results were very good as usual. I passed all my subjects at the end of the year and was transferred to the major Catholic seminary in Namaacha. I enrolled for a major course. This seminary had just been built. By now, I was familiar with Lorenzo Marques for we used to go there every month. I had a wish – a wish to stay in Lorenzo Marques. I had nephews who lived in Lorenzo Marques.

I passed my first year Major Seminary Course with ease. As I was about to start the second year course, there was conflict amongst the black students, who were from different parts of Mozambique (the southern part, the central part and the northern part of Mozambique). These students were divided by their tribal lines.

Seeing the conflict, the director of the school approached me to lead the students and act as mediator amongst them. However, I refused the offer on the grounds that I was against the appointment system. I wanted to be elected amongst other students, by all the students, from the different parts of Mozambique. I told the director that I believed in democracy.

The director was furious with me for what I had said to him. He accused me of being disobedient and said that I was going to be dismissed from the college. I told him that I was prepared to leave if it was necessary. A few days later, I received a letter of dismissal from the Bishop of the Catholic Churches at the Head Office in Lorenzo Marques. It stated clearly that I was disobedient and that I was propagating politics in the seminary, which was against their policy.

In 1959, before I was expelled from the Namaacha Seminary, my teacher invited me to witness the suffering of my people who were recruited under the forced abour system we called ‘shibalo’. What is ‘shibalo’? Shibalo is the name we still use today, meaning forced labour. This originated during the time when people were forced to cultivate cotton and crops for food. My father once worked under the same system.

After I witnessed that, I wrote a letter to the Governor, Gabriel Teixeira, complaining about the ill treatment of black people. I was against the forced abour system. I received no reply, but the news reached the seminary director.

That also contributed towards my dismissal. I gathered my belongings and moved to Lorenzo Marques to stay with my nephews, Alexandre Zunguze and Joao Chitofo. I applied to further my studies while staying with my nephews, but was refused by all the schools in Lorenzo Marques. By that time I was 29 years old. I was told that the education I had received so far differed greatly from the education in Lorenzo Marques. I was devastated. I realized the difficulties of being in the city of slavery. I had to find a job in order to assist my nephews. I knew they were not going to feed and cater for me while I was not attending school.

I started looking for a job, and found work as a gardener for a white man. The family was so good to me, that I even forgot that whites were cruel. Despite the fact that my employer was so good to me, I used to see other whites beating blacks, sometimes pouring water on them. I will never forget seeing a white man, holding a black man’s face to be beaten by his child. Life was so cruel.

I also came to know about the Portuguese Secret Police (PIDE). They were the secret police found in the city, they were so bad. They hated blacks , and made their lives miserable. Racism was the order of the day in Lorenzo Marques. When a black person wanted to buy something from a shop, he was attended to last, even if he was the first one to arrive. The situation was bad in the city. However, I never dreamt of going back to the village at that time.

My nephews were very happy that I was working and I could contribute to the household, but they were worried about one thing. The way I always talked about the whites, and wanting them to leave the country. They warned me that I would end up in jail if I continued talking that way.

While in Lorenzo Marques, I heard many stories about the death of black people at the hands of their employees. My master always said that it was a lie. He used to ask me whether he treated me badly. Of course, he was not. That family treated me well. They used to give me leftovers, which I took home. To me, that was not enough to change my opinion about the cruelty of the whites and that they should leave our land.

A year passed. I was tired of working for a white man. I wanted education, but I didn’t know how I was going to get it. One day, in 1960, while listening to the news, it came to my attention that some black children were found dead on the outskirts of Lorenzo Marques. It was believed that the Portuguese government and the PIDE was involved in the act. I heard that a black man from the USA, who was working for the United Nations, had condemned the killing of those children. His name was Dr. Eduardo Chivambo Mondlane. He was a Mozambican from the Gaza Province. He was one of the few black people to be found in the United Nations, and the first from our country to have obtained a doctorate and marry a white woman.

I wanted to get to know this man. Maybe he could help me secure a scholarship to further my studies. I wanted to study abroad. The year was 1961, and everyone talked about Dr. Eduardo Mondlane visiting Mozambique. I wanted to see him and nothing was going to stop me. The man was very famous. He was educated and the Portuguese government felt uncomfortable having him around. I knew that he was going to welcome me with open arms, for he was black like me.

I had to keep myself informed of Dr. Eduardo Mondlane’s whereabouts as to know where he could be found. Fortunately, I heard that he was going to be in Lorenzo Marques, and prepared myself to go to see a very educated Mozambican.

I wanted to be like him, and there was only one way to achieve that. I had to approach him so that he could give me the secret behind his success in education. During the days when Dr. Mondlane was said to be in Lorenzo Marques, I took to the street early one morning. I was well prepared to present my story to this powerful black man of my country. On arrival, where he was said to be, I found a crowd of people. Men, women, and children were waiting to see their hero.

They were waiting to see this famous, educated man. I waited patiently for the moment to meet him. By the shoving and pushing of the people I knew that the man had arrived, but I couldn’t see him. Some were pointing to the left hand side, some to the right, but I couldn’t see him. I had an idea of what he looked like, from a picture in the newspaper. I noticed a black car close to where I was standing. It was a beautiful car, and suddenly a dark huge man appeared, waving his hand. The people were screaming, ‘Mondlane…!’, praising him. I shivered and I did not know what I was supposed to do.

That was Dr. Eduardo Mondlane, “the tallest black tree” of the country. I pushed my way towards him, and he looked at me. He shook my hand and greeted me with a friendly smile. I had the opportunity to tell him about my wish of furthering my studies. He was delighted and took my details. He promised to contact me once he returned to the USA in a few weeks time. He informed me that he was looking for young men and women who wanted to study abroad, and I fit the profile. I was very happy and returned home. My dream to further my education
could become a reality.