100 Days of Chapo: Between the Torch of 30 Million and Eggless Omelettes

Alípio Freeman"

The first 100 days of a government are a short but crucial period for understanding the direction of a given government, especially in a context of institutional instability, poorly healed electoral wounds, a socially fractured country with a dominant party system and a façade of democracy. However, this symbolic milestone serves to understand the initial signs, the priority gestures and, above all, the political and ethical orientation of a new government. And the signs, unfortunately, are worrying. Daniel Chapo's address to the nation, highlighting the unfortunate metaphor that his government managed to “make omelettes without eggs”, accurately sums up the drama that lies ahead: we have a government more concerned with theatrics than with concretely resolving the country's problems. The new president comes to power during one of the most delicate phases in Mozambique's recent history. He inherited a divided country, with institutions in crisis of credibility and a people deeply suspicious of everything that emanates from state structures. His rise to power was shrouded in allegations of electoral fraud, repression, deaths, disappearances and political persecution. In other words, Chapo assumed a position of power whose legitimacy was damaged, and for this very reason, it was expected that his first steps would be marked by strong signs of a change in attitude, responsibility and approximation to the real needs of the population. However, what we saw in these 100 days was a government more concerned with reproducing the symbolic rituals of the party that put it in power than with presenting a minimum plan to respond to the serious problems facing the country. The metaphor of omelettes without eggs, far from being just a rhetorical device, ends up revealing the essence of a government that tries to make it seem like it is doing something, while it is not doing it. And worse: it wastes time on unnecessary and ceremonial acts, when the people are mired in poverty, salaries are late and public services are collapsing. The most glaring example of this misalignment of priorities is the spending of over 30 million meticais on the circulation of the so-called “Presidential Torch”. Under the pretext of celebrating the 50th anniversary of national independence, this initiative is revealed to be a veritable partisan propaganda ploy, at a time when state resources should be channelled towards addressing urgent issues such as the payment of salaries, the crisis in the health system, the supply of medicines, the quality of education and food security. The torch, far from being a symbol of unity, has become a candle lit to illuminate the nostalgia of a party increasingly distanced from social reality. It is yet another attempt by the Frelimo party to recover political capital through history, replacing the project for the future with the selective memory of the past. No less serious is the announcement of spending of around 100 million meticais to support a series of dialogues with opposition leaders under the pretext of national pacification. This is a hollow political exercise, without substance or legitimacy, which aims only to feed the narrative of reconciliation in a context where political violence continues to be active, and those who claim to be peacemakers are accused of sponsoring terror. The chosen interlocutors are widely contested figures, with no effective representation of the communities that are intended to be pacified. Thus, what is presented as dialogue is, in fact, an expensive spectacle aimed at cleansing the image of the party in power and promoting the appearance of political openness. A country with public servants without salaries, hospitals without medicines and state suppliers on the brink of bankruptcy cannot afford to finance empty dialogues and useless ceremonies. There is a clear pattern: a government that acts without a coherent plan, but tries to compensate for this absence with theatrical gestures and façade symbols. To date, no consistent economic plan has been known from Chapo's government. No concrete policy to combat corruption has been announced. There are no visible measures for administrative reform or reorganization of public services. The discourse of stability serves as a screen to hide the absence of structural measures. Worse still: the signals emitted show a State hostage to the party's agendas, incapable of establishing its own national agenda. It must be acknowledged that Chapo did not prepare a plan for the country before taking office. He was chosen as a replacement part of a party machine in crisis, which desperately needed to present a new face to continue the same old policies. But being new is not enough. The president's youth does not exempt him from responsibility. On the contrary, it forces him to break with the vices he inherited. However, what we have seen so far is a president who limits himself to obeying the party's rituals and using state resources to sustain the symbolic orgies of a power that is increasingly devoid of meaning. The metaphor of “henhouse with chickens without uteruses,” which is common in political and popular circles, is brutal but pertinent: Chapo inherited a government structure that was already broken, with no real production capacity, no organic legitimacy, and no commitment to the foundations of democracy. State institutions, far from acting as instruments of the common good, operate as party cells and mechanisms of domination. Democracy, in this form, seems systematically doomed to failure. When there is a divergence of ideas, the response tends to be force, not institutional dialogue. Consensus, when it exists, is forged behind the scenes, based on private interests and not on popular will. And this explains why there is a power vacuum, a disturbing government silence, and a growing absence of the State in the neediest territories. President Chapo still has time to turn this situation around. But this will require political courage, the ability to break with party impositions and the creation of an agenda based on the country’s real needs. Until this happens, Mozambicans will continue to watch a government theater where there is a lot of talk about omelets, but where there is no bread on the table, medicine in hospitals and dignity in institutions. The people’s patience has limits.

2025/12/3