The Magic of Mozambique

I had never tasted a mango until I met Armando Flor Mabutana. Well, certainly none quite as tasty as those we greedily devoured that hot December day.

The 72-year old mango king of Macaneta sat us sun-kissed travellers down on a couch of two boxes and a wooden plank. A bowl filled with the fleshy fruit quickly appeared before us. Yellow juices dribbled down our chins as Armando's mango supply went into steady decline. After the long dusty walk in the midday sun, we relaxed in the warm hospitality and took in the rural simplicity surrounding us.

Recent heavy rains had transformed the coastal lowland into a lush green oasis. Pear trees hung heavy with fruit. Pigs snuffled noisily in the dust at our feet. Scrawny chickens scavenged for mango skins. And Armando's many grandchildren cautiously advanced to examine the strange white visitors. 'So this is the real Mozambique, the Mozambique of old,' I thought to myself. A time long before the invasion of civil war and scuba tanks. A time when man lived off the land and the sea and worried about nothing. A time long gone. Except for Macaneta.

Armando is one of those peaceful simple souls. Apart from four years in the 40's when he worked as a painter in South Africa, all his life he has toiled and lived and loved on Ponta de Macaneta. 'I was born here, this is my home,' he said proudly, showing us the thatched huts he shares with his wife, three daughters and 12 grandchildren. 'I know everyone who lives here, I know everything about Macaneta.' Armando's toothy smile broadened into a grin as we admired his home-made catapult. 'This 'fesga' I made myself two years ago. I use it to shoot 'pomba' and 'rolla' which we cook on the fire. The big birds always taste good,' he beamed in his best broken English.

In October 1992, Mozambique's chequered past took a turn for the better with the declaration of a ceasefire that ended 17 years of bloody civil war. United Nations troops monitored the transition to democracy resulting in 1994's multiparty elections where Joaquim Alberto Chissano of the Front for the Liberation of Mozambique (FRELIMO) was elected president.
Since then, the country, once rated among the poorest nations in the world, has slowly begun to heal. Foreign investment has poured in and a five year financial programme has been instituted. The results being that inflation has plummeted from 70% in 1994 to its current level of just 5%.

Another bright light on the economic horizon is a potentially lucrative tourism industry. With a subtropical climate and 2470 kilometres of reef-fringed coastline, Mozambique has reestablished itself as a holiday haven for South African sunseekers and diving enthusiasts.

Mozambique is on the mend. But judging by the third world decay much evident in Maputo, one wouldn't think so. Apart from several modern-day landmarks, much of Mozambique's capital is taken up by high rise slums and run down buildings. A South American waiter at a well known seafood restaurant on Maputo's beachfront, told us of his experiences during the war years.

'They were terrible times for everyone living here. We were basically prisoners in Maputo because of all the killing going on in the countryside. A few hundred metres down the beachfront, a roadblock was permanently set up and no-one could drive further without authorization. We used to sit on the beach at night and, like fireworks, watch all the explosions and rockets light up the sky.'