MY FIRST SPEECH

On thursday, 15th Feb.24, our pratice exercise was about speech. Our teacher ask us to write and present a short but very expressive speech. I'm sharing mine with you.

"Dear colleagues and comrades 

Ladies and gentleman,

I would like to start by expressing my gratitude and joy to all of you, for being part of this class and for all the good times away from home! 

Your frendship and support makes my English learning journey even brighter.

By the way, allow me tell you an anecdote which relates to my lifetime experience. I promise not to take much of your time.

When I started to become aware of things and life around my little world, 47 years ago, I met a friend, just a little boy like me.  

His father was semi-literate and his mother illiterate. Both was peasants in a remote rural area of Angola.

My friend's father used to listen to the radio and this influenced so much the boy. 

On silence, he was cultivating the desire to become a radio broadcaster one day in the future.  

I heared his father giving him two life lessons:

Study hard and, once you reach the age to find a job, work with probity and honor.  Unfortunately my friend's father died before the boy turned 9 years old.

After that, the civil war reached our village, and we were forced to take refugee in Luanda where life became so hard, much more than it used to be in our village. 

He had no place to call home, no food, no documents to enroll in public school, and so on.

My friend used to sell goods on the street and was forced to repeat two grades he had already taken, since he did not have documents to prove his truth. Besides, it was the last opportunity he had to study again. 

With his new teacher, my friend gained the reading and writing skills.

So he made his best and studied a lot in public schools and in two universities later on. 

Times later he became a journalist and University Teacher.  After that he started writing books and built a library back in the village where he spent some of his childhood years.  

I would like to tell you more abouth my friend, should I have much time.  

This whole story about my friend is written in a book published last year in Angola.  

Regardless of where we were born, it is possible to grow.  We just need to cultivate a dream, follow a purpose and find a model to follow.

This friend of mine, who I value very much, is myself. Thank you for listetining and for sharing your empathy!"

Cape Town, SA.

À PEDRA: UXITA SUBA

(Memórias lubolenses dos princípios dos anos 80)

A minha infância foi atravessada por diversas vivências que configura(va)m o nosso contexto vivencial tipicamente angolano. Uma delas foi assistir à transformação do milho em fuba (farinha).

As mamãs, ainda jovens, combinavam o esfarelamento, o demolhamento e a feitura da fuba sobre pedra, usando o "martelo triturador" esculpido de um galho de árvore com a forma angular (L ou V) a que chamávamos e mantém o nome de handa.

Os batimentos sincronizados faziam música que se juntava às canções que elas entoavam para buscar forças e narrar a história e estórias do nosso povo, convertidos em "literatura oral". Era uma cooperação que não deixava ninguém para trás. E nós, filhos, inocentes e envoltos em brincadeiras, sempre perto delas, gostávamos do matete que se fazia no final da "moagem" e das broas feitas com banana.

A cunhada Emiliana, que era natural do planalto angolano (dizíamos que era do Huambo), tinha perícia em confeccionar broas enroladas em folhas de bananeira para as assar. A farinha usada era aquela granulada e ainda por secar.

Enquanto as mães moíam o milho, nós tínhamos a missão de arranjar conduto complementar ao que levavam de casa, normalmente kizaka, jihasa, um pedaço de peixe ou carne*. Juntava-se tudo. Cada uma dava um pouco de fuba e um pouco de conduto e fazia-se um repasto conjunto.

Recolhíamos ervas comestíveis, como as folhas de uma árvore que produz resina idêntica ao do quiabo, também designada "xingo", folhas de mulondolo e fazíamos armadilhas com visgo (cola de borracheira) para apanhar passarinhos que caiam bem num almoço sob pedra.

Uma boa caça era motivo de satisfação e orgulho de nossas mamãs que eram mamãs de todos os filhos da aldeia, assim como o matete e os passarinhos que apanhávamos.

*de caça grossa ou pequenos roedores (rato da mata, mangusto, paca, canta-pedra, esquilo, etc.).

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Publicado pelo Jornal Litoral de 25 de Janeiro de 2024