CARDYELLOW CARD TO PRESIDENT CHAPO: DIPLOMACY WITHOUT PRODUCTION — THE CHOICE OF A DELEGATION THAT REFLECTS THE FAILURE OF OUR ECONOMIC VISION

In a country structurally dependent on imports, where even the most basic goods that sustain daily life are acquired abroad, many of them from China, any presidential trip with economic purposes should represent a moment of strategic affirmation, an unequivocal sign that the State understands its weaknesses and is willing to face them seriously. The recent visit of President Chapo to China, accompanied by a delegation of supposed national businessmen, instead of fulfilling this expectation, exposes with uncomfortable clarity the degree of disorientation that continues to mark our approach to economic development. This is not just a trip. It is a mirror reflecting, without filters, how the country still confuses diplomacy with strategy and presence with impact, where priorities end up leaning towards lobbyists and a caste of predatory businessmen linked to the ruling party and its cells.

China is undeniably a world leader in industrialization, productive innovation, and the ability to transform resources into wealth. The problem, however, lies in the inconsistency between the stated objective of the mission and the profile of the individuals selected to participate. When it is stated that the purpose of the trip was to explore business opportunities in the world's largest productive economy, the expectation is that the participants will be economic agents with a real capacity to absorb knowledge, establish partnerships, and, above all, replicate what they observed in the country. However, what we see is a delegation largely composed of individuals whose economic activity is concentrated on providing services, many of them oriented towards the state itself, and not on the production of goods or the development of value chains.

This choice is not neutral. It reveals a deeply ingrained logic where economic success is more associated with proximity to power than with the ability to produce. These are entrepreneurs who thrive in an environment where the state is the main client, where public contracts replace competitiveness, and where productive risk is avoided in favor of relatively secure incomes. This is not about denying the importance of the service sector. It is about recognizing that, in a country that practically does not produce enough to meet its basic needs, the priority should be different. The priority should be to identify, support, and promote those who are willing to invest in production, even when facing adverse conditions.

The inconsistency becomes even more evident when considering the country's economic reality. Mozambique possesses abundant arable land, significant mineral resources, and a large workforce. However, it continues to import food that it could produce, industrial goods that it could manufacture, and products that, under normal conditions, should be the result of a minimally structured economy. This dependence is not merely an economic problem; it is a strategic vulnerability. And, given this reality, the decision to take a group not directly linked to production to China raises serious questions about the understanding of the problem.

It is legitimate to ask: Who are, in fact, the representatives of the national productive business sector? Where are the emerging industrialists? Where are the farmers with expansion potential? Where are the entrepreneurs who struggle daily to transform raw materials into finished products, facing a lack of financing, precarious infrastructure, and an unfavorable business environment? The absence of these actors in a mission of this nature cannot be seen as a minor detail. It is a clear sign of exclusion and, at the same time, an indication that the country continues to privilege closed circuits of access to opportunities.

This exclusion has profound consequences. When genuine producers are systematically kept away from spaces where partnerships are built and international contacts are established, the country loses the opportunity to create a solid productive base. It also loses the possibility of ensuring that knowledge acquired abroad is effectively applied within the national territory. Instead, a model is reinforced in which few have access to opportunities and many remain marginalized, regardless of their merit or potential.

The presence of figures whose economic relevance is, at the very least, questionable, only exacerbates this perception. When individuals with no direct connection to productive sectors are included in a business delegation, the message conveyed is one of trivialization of the mission itself. This is not about devaluing other areas of activity. It is about recognizing that each context demands specific criteria. A mission focused on exploring industrial and commercial opportunities should be composed of agents capable of operating in those sectors. Any deviation from this logic compromises the credibility of the initiative.

Another element that cannot be ignored is the cost associated with this type of travel. Taking more than forty businesspeople on an international visit involves significant expenses. It includes transportation, accommodation, logistics, and other costs that, directly or indirectly, fall on the State or on resources that could be used more efficiently. In a country where essential sectors face severe funding limitations, every spending decision must be accompanied by a clear expectation of return. And it is precisely here that the most unsettling doubts arise.

What is the concrete return from this mission? What agreements were signed? What investments are planned? What structuring partnerships were established? And, above all, how many of these results are within reach of the delegation members? Without clear answers to these questions, the trip risks becoming a mere exercise in visibility without substance. In a context of scarcity, this is not just inefficiency. It is irresponsibility.

Even more worrying is the effect this type of decision has on the country's economic behavior. By favoring individuals whose activity is not directly linked to production, the State reinforces an incentive system that discourages productive investment. The message sent is that the safest path to success lies not in value creation, but in proximity to power. This distorts the functioning of the economy, reduces competitiveness, and perpetuates dependency.

If the goal is to transform Mozambique into a productive economy, it is necessary to break with this pattern. It is necessary to create transparent selection mechanisms for economic missions. It is necessary to ensure that the criteria are based on capacity, experience, and potential impact. Above all, it is necessary to recognize that development is not built on improvisation or decisions that ignore the country's reality.

The relationship with China can and should be strategic. But this strategy will only be effective if it is geared towards knowledge transfer, the creation of domestic productive capacity, and the strengthening of sectors that can generate employment and wealth sustainably. This requires preparation. It requires vision. It requires difficult choices. And, above all, it requires the courage to break with practices that have already proven ineffective.

The President and his team have the responsibility to lead this process. This involves not only identifying external opportunities, but also ensuring that the country is prepared to seize them. It involves selecting the right interlocutors, creating favorable internal conditions, and rigorously monitoring the results of initiatives. Without this, any international mission risks being just an isolated episode, without real impact.

This yellow card is not an act of hostility. It is a call for reflection. It is an invitation to rethink priorities. It is a warning that the time for symbolic decisions is over. The country needs concrete results. It needs consistent policies. It needs leadership that understands the difference between being present and making a difference.

Because, in the end, development isn't measured by the number of trips taken or the size of delegations. It's measured by the capacity to produce, innovate, and create value. It's measured by reducing external dependence and strengthening the domestic economy. It's measured by including those who truly work to transform the country.

And, in light of these criteria, the mission in question raises more questions than it answers.

So, the yellow card stands. A clear sign that something needs to change. A warning that the country cannot continue to confuse appearance with substance. And a final irony that reality itself suggests. In a context where a large part of the national productive sector is led by foreigners, many of them Chinese, perhaps it would have been more coherent to take these same producers to China to strengthen their ties and expand their businesses, instead of relocating a group that, until now, has shown greater affinity with the corridors of public administration than with the production lines.