Pa terra ranka un bias

23/12/2019 – 26/12/19

I set foot at home on Tuesday 17th of December at 4:20am after some misadventures in Lisbon two days prior, and an unexpected cancellation in Casablanca on the day of. But I made it in the end, safe albeit tired. With all my luggage, albeit wet and unrecognisable under the cling film that I certainly did not put on them. But there’s something about being home and family that dissipates all the annoyance. I had much to be grateful for.

The source of the music. (Bairro di Luanda, 26/12/19)

For the week I've been here I've been trying (and failing) to re-acclimate to the constant heat (averaging about 33°C) and every day, right outside our complex, campaign music blares on from morning to evening. A friend asked me if the upcoming elections were reigniting my activist spirit; it is difficult to follow the campaign half-heartedly when the party anthem (among others that mention the party, or the candidate) plays right outside the front door - loud enough that it could actually be playing inside the house - encouraging Guineans to vote and vote well on the 29th of December. But music aside, the new year for Guinea-Bissau is make or break depending on who we allow to sit in the presidential palace. 

The Presidential palace (26/12/19)

Not knowing how else to mobilise resources so close to the election to try influencing the campaign - and putting my faith in God and the hard work of campaigners (including my sister who has been dedicating her days to developing footage to disseminate every night, promptly at 20:00) - I decided to write this as documentation and as a window into Guinea-Bissau's state of affairs to the outside world that has limited access to the happenings of the small West African country. I’ll make a disclaimer here, this doesn't read like a news article, offering facts and figures. I haven’t been here long enough to fully understand and capture the political sentiment around the country so I can only write about my own experiences and hopes, touching on the ones that I have access to in my direct surroundings.

"At this point, only God" is something I have been hearing and saying a lot lately concerning this election. An aunt of mine even said Deus ten ku purdano, “God has to forgive us”. A dramatic sentiment, but also a fitting one. Guinea-Bissau is one of the poorest countries in the world. Crisis is our only constant… God needs to forgive us so that we can move forward.

My father sent me a prayer that is prayed for Guinea-Bissau at the cathedral every Sunday:

A prayer for Guinea-Bissau

Lord, we hand over our land, Guinea-Bissau to you/ Lord, we are so anxious, not only because of all the uncertainty, but also because of the moral, economic and political problems that afflict us. Hear the cry of your people who implore you in faith. 

A quiet Sunday afternoon at Bissau Cathedral (22/12/19)

Last year, I took a picture of protest posters on the walls of the same cathedral and featured it on page 16 of my collection. For those of you who don't own a copy (and will soon purchase it because now you know and now I've called you out, and see I've even put the link for you) the posters implored the church body to intervene in politics so that students could finally go to school. They can't be apolitical; they can't be impartial. Especially not now. Faith is a big part of people’s lives and the church body has to make a political decision to move in the physical world alongside their prayers so that they influence, and guide and act on God’s word.

Cabral des ku bai o, bu fidjus fika sin rosto deh

I haven't been to a rally yet but I'm expecting the final one before election day to be a powerful one. (Maybe I will update this post with shots and my sentiments in the aftermath of the rally). Despite how moving we expect it to be as we declare allegiance to Cabral's ideologies, we also expect voter turnout to be lower. Even in the first round of elections, registered voter abstention was 25%, and this number has different reasons, an example being issues of access. Sissoko, the candidate with the second highest votes only got a slightly higher number of votes with 27%. Inching closer to the second round though, there are doubts that DSP who was leading in the first round with 40% of the votes will maintain his lead and so we say: 'only God.'

No na pidi Deus nós i ta caba sin deh.

Gossi i Guiné-Bissau

After the UK's general election in early December 2019 there was a lot of talk about echo chambers, with some admitting that the results of the election surprised them because of that, and others being critical of the concept, I've become weary of the voices around me. Although everything suggests to me that the choice between the two candidates is obvious, some show devotion to their candidate as I do mine, and others simply don't care; "kualker son" (whoever) was a response my sister received from a passerby when she asked who they would vote for. A dangerous attitude to have when deciding who would lead us into the next decade if you ask me.

We joke - though with a hint of truth to it - that we would leave if the elections were to go wrong. I don't use the word 'wrong' lightly; this election isn't an issue of political views. We aren't having a right wing versus left wing discussion over here. It's a vote between a sustainable and concrete plan for progress, and an egocentric desire for power that will, not to be dramatic, doom us all. Jokes aside though it's not as easy as picking up and leaving when things don't go our way. In fact that's when we've got our work cut out for us and more than ever we must commit to it, na sabura ku na kasabi. You can't walk away from this kind of love though it hurts, though it keeps failing us. We have to love Guiné-Bissau enough to let it be transformed by it.

On Christmas day, three of my young cousins, the oldest one being 7 years old, broke out in song, singing the PAIGC anthem at the top of their lungs for the whole complex to hear. An endearing sight to behold. Imagine how cute it is to see a three-year-old, my namesake, singing the lyrics that she knows with her little voice, raising her voice and shouting “viva!”. But it was more than that. I am moved close to tears whenever songs about Guiné-Bissau are sung, and listening to my cousins singing it, I wonder if they know how important those words are. How much their futures will be affected by the decision we make as a country in the next few days.

Império (26/12/19)

I went to a book launch with my mother for the release of Africa in Transformation,  by our very own Carlos Lopes. The opening act was a performance by Os Fidalgos, Guineense no firma, encapsulating the feeling so eloquently to the point that it brought me near tears (again!). Re-listening to the words of the song over and over I hear that truly we are crying for God to hear us, to change our destiny in these coming elections. For us, for those coming behind us, for the country that has been waiting so long for it.

Guineense bu sibi firma suma país ki bu sedu ba. 

Ka bu disanima, un dia bu na bali. 

"Guineans you know how to stand like the country you once were. 

Don't discourage, one day you will be good."

This isn't to say that our problems will disappear from one year to the next. No tene kaminhu pa ianda. “We have a long way to go”; but at least, if we choose well, it will rekindle dreams, and hope and vision because there would be concrete plans of execution. It will take all of us and everything to stand, to change, to finally bring this country in crisis to peace. 

Guiné ke n obi ki storias ba, 

n misti mati ki Guiné.

No storias bonitu dimas.

"The Guinea I hear of in stories, I

 want to be part of that Guinea.

Our stories are so beautiful."

I want more than anything to be a part of the Guinea-Bissau that my parents remember. The one that they speak of so highly and love so dearly. That's the one I want to help build, the one I want to get to know. The one that will not be so painful to love. The one that will love us back. How can we discourage now? We can pray for the best, and prepare for the worst, but the love must be unconditional if something is to change, na sabura ku na kasabi. My hope is that we choose the right people to lead us into a new and transformative decade.

Pa terra ranka un bias!

Update (28/12/19):

Friday the 27^th was a long day. I rose before the sun to join my mom (who is doing her piece to contribute to the plans for development in the country as the new minister of public health) on the road to Gabú region. It’s a single, narrow and bumpy road to the interior of the country. What should have been an hour and a half, maximum two-hour journey turned into a three to four-hour journey because of how we had to dodge potholes and dodge cars trying to do the same.

I don’t know the country so well and so I was excited for the opportunity to drive into the interior. In the end I fell asleep – no easy task considering my body was being swung in every direction – on the ride there and the way back and was only able to observe briefly as city turned to village turned to stretches of grassland. One of my hopes for 2020 is to discover the other regions of Guiné-Bissau and I’ll recount those experiences in separate posts. But this update is about why we went to Gabú and what awaited us as we re-entered Bissau later on that evening.

Conversas: Guiné-Bissau Sempre (Gabú, 27/12/19)

My mom was part of a panel along with the minister of education and the secretary of state of culture at an event where they were in conversation with the youth of the region. Gabú is the largest region of the country but it only has one high school and one hospital. Teachers, students, their parents, all came with their grievances about the negligence they experienced as a region and in this space, organised by the secretary of state of culture they were encouraged to have candid conversation with the people meant to represent them and this is a first, I think, in the country. At least not in a long time.

In general, around me, there is great confidence in this new government. It is the youngest government we’ve ever had, and we have gender parity. We have a lot of other problems, but I believe in celebrating all the victories. If there is any government with a vision and clear plan of execution, it’s this one. But they will only be able to do their job under the right leadership. There seemed to be a lot of support for DSP’s presidency in this particular arena, but I think that the region is quite divided in their support.

Sissoko territory

Bissau has a clear DSP majority, the first round of elections showed that. It didn’t feel that way though, driving back into Bissau. It was the last rally for both candidates and the road from the airport all the way to Bairro di Ajuda, Sissoko turf, was congested with his followers, all showing their support by wearing the red and white kalá around their heads as he does. The way support manifests in Guinea-Bissau is fascinating. It is as if they take on the identity of their candidate by emulating their appearance. On the DSP camp, supporters wear straw fedoras because DSP wears on. My father owns one and he’s worn it out on most days leading up to the 29^th of December. There were a few odd cases of people simultaneously wearing shirts with DSP’s face and the kalá on their heads. But it is a great metaphor I think for the harmony that exists among Guineans regardless of their position. As my father puts it, these are people that drink beer together. So, no one had to be scared for walking through a crowd of Sissoko supporters wearing DSP paraphernalia. It is one of the things I love most about this country; despite all, we are peaceful, and we coexist harmoniously.

DSP rally, (Estádio Lino Correia, 27/12/19)

Eventually, after re-routing through back roads we made it to our own rally. The Lino Correia stadium was full. Carrier trucks were parked by the walls on the outside to allow greater masses to bear witness to the rally. Trees served the same purpose. Despite how many people showed out, the energy was not quite what I had expected it to be. My parents say that people are tired. All they’ve been hearing about are elections, all the events they’ve attended were about elections. They just want to get on with their day to day. What's more is that we are in the middle of holiday season, people have just recovered from Christmas and are getting ready for the New Year. People are leaving the cities to join their families in the village. Cities are the strongholds for DSP. Regardless, I was excited to finally be a part of this. If my energy was high then maybe it could infect those around me, and maybe it would cause a ripple effect across the country. 

DSP was welcomed onto the stage with Matchu! Matchu! Matchu! chants and I wondered how the crowd received his opponent at his own rally. I wondered what he would have spoken about. I wondered whether they felt hope for the country as I could feel it in the moment as I raised my fist with others every time DSP would cry Viva Guiné-Bissau!

Repping my candidate

With a day left to go, I hope that we collectively make the right decision for the country.

Viva Guiné-Bissau!