Lobito, behind its old-fashioned decor, offers a pretty sad contrast: the now shabby rich colonial
villas by the sea, strongly contrast with the paradas, of the downtown decayed squats. According to the provincial authorities, these temporary refuges (abandoned toilets, car shells, containers, etc), shelter 450 children, of which 18 girls, left to themselves. In all, over 2500 minors survive from begging and small jobs, prostitution, most often for girls – on the coastline of Benguela-Lobito. Some come from families dispersed during the war, others victims of domestic violence, who chose to run away from their families and seek refuge on the streets.
Text: Guillaume Plassais Journalist
The place, baptised As tendas (the tents in portuguese), consists of a group of eight deteriorated military tents, where 120 teenagers live confined, and is officially recognized by the city authorities. A great step, but clearly insufficient, considering the needs in terms of health and hygiene, the children suffer from various pathologies such as malaria, scabies, skin diseases, breathing infections, tuberculosis. For the prevention of sexually transmissible infections. Sanitary conditions: two deep holes near a stretch of polluted sea are used as drinkabe water for washing. A crucial aspect of medical follow-up, as those small migrants often sail by boat to Luanda to seek work.
Life gets organised around the tents that Okutiuka grabbed from the Administration. The site baptised parada dos fobados (“starving squats”), is run with authority by Jesus, 17 years old, the well-named. To avoid being excluded, no more filthy rags of chupilingua, this addiction to fuel , should be found laying around. The teenagers respect the rules: up at dawn, washing up, then cleaning the place before school. Tonight, to an air of rap, they show off their arms bearing scars made with used blades. Anxiously eyeing all this, Jesus scrutinizes the horizon: a mackerel has moved her hovel to just 100 metres from here, as though to spy upon this small fragile world. Just like a deadly sword of Damocles.
Text: Guillaume Plassais Journalist
Twice a week, father Horacio walks the streets of Luanda to offer some warmth to the homeless children. “We try to circle their real difficulties in order to better help them. Eventually, we may suggest that they join the center”, explains this argentinian with the looks of Che Guevarra. A lot of patience is needed to cope with suspicious minors, having no landmarks and often addicted to drugs, who rarely accept to follow the padre at first contact. Created in 1993, the Arnaldo Janssen center boards and offers school education to 180 young people who must respect the internal rules and regulations in the form of ten “commandments” (compulsory classes, sharing the tasks, hygiene...) External students are also accepted. They can all major with professional degrees. At the same time, steps are taken to find the families in order for some boarders to return to their homes. “Nevertheless warns the priest, success depends above all on the child’s implication.”
Orlando, a twelve year old street child in Luanda : “My elder brother used to beat me, so I ran away, but when I came back my family had fled from the war. I slept outside and to feed myself, sold garbage picked at the Roque Santeiro, the largest market in Africa. One day I asked Father Horacio who spoke to me about the center, to give me ten kwanzas (local currency). Suspicious, I nonetheless decided to follow him. He has just found my uncle who will take care of me”.
At least one million persons in Angola out of 12 million inhabitants are seropositive, has announced on Monday the Angola Health Ministry, number contested by the UNAIDS.
Eugenia and Lucia sick with AIDS, living in a squat in Huambo in the center of the country.
Lucia Isabell Maquedalena, 33 years old, 4 children, 2 girls and 2 boys.
Eugenia Chatouvanqua, 41 years old, 8 sons.
Two women living alone in an old coal factory, their husbands dead during the war and their children dead from sickness and malnutrition.
After a three-hour walk, Luisiano, three months old, wrapped in his mother’s cloth and all red from the clay-trail, finally gets to the health station of Cambuengo. The baby with a hagard look suffers from marasmus, a form of severe malnutrition. According to Rui, the supervisor of the nutrition center in Mungo for Doctors of the world, “Luisiano must quickly be taken to the therapeutic nutritional center in Bailundo which treats the most severe cases.” The center in Mungo only treats moderate forms of malnutrition. Rui must argue at length in umbundu, the native language, to convince Raquel, Luisiano’s mother; she will have to leave her home, her land and her other small children during almost a month.
Before obtaining their premix – a mixture of soja flour, corn and beans mixed with oil and sugar – as well as fouba for the child and a bag containing a variety of food, the beneficiaries must attend a palestra, a course on malaria, hygiene, nutrition... given by angolese nurses.
Reconstruction ? Some new buildings can be seen on the Ilha, this narrow Luanda coastline. Building projects that hardly conceal a devastating standstill. Despite considerable rich natural resources (oil and diamonds in the north) and the return of peace, the country remains in a dead-end. Economy ruined by the appara tchiks of this socialist state and by the western countries, corruption, laminated roads, families torn apart, health programs afloat, malaria, malnutrition.
The picture would not be complete if we omit the 12 million mines disseminated all over Angola, almost as many as the population of the country, which delay any idea of reconstruction. Heritage of a conflict that has killed more than half a million people who haunt the nights of the survivors.
On the highlands of Planalto, formerly the granaries of Angola, awakening is painful. The inhabitants hesitate between fatalism and trust in the future. The small town of Bailundo is falling in ruins, as well as its hospital with its shattered windows and pierced roof allowing the rain to pour in. The exorbitant prices of basic materials, such as concrete or sheet metal. Same picture of desolation in Mungo. Indeed old town Unita now has electricity as well as a motor tractor. Only problem: the brand new engine and the land cultivated belong to the police commanding officer.
Angola suffers from not moving ahead. Corruption, disastrous roads, expensive transportation, hamper the straightening up of the economy and health structures. Since 2002, Doctors of the world brings medical aid to a fragile population.
Text: Guillaume Plassais Journalist