A New Facade for the Old Scheme

Luís Munguambe Júnior"

When I first heard about the PHOENIX project, I must admit I was intrigued. They say it is a modern response to housing problems, an urban solution, a step forward in development. I followed the news, the speeches, the promises. They talk about apartments of various types, opportunities for young people, all in the name of progress. But I look at it through the eyes of someone who lives down here, and I don't see any innovation. I see the same old theater, with a new name and a more colorful setting.

The PHOENIX project, contrary to what is being touted, was not created to include the people; it was created to give the impression that something is being done. The plan is to build around six thousand apartments of various types, but no one can tell me who the beneficiaries are. They say it is for young people, but the young people I know will continue to share rooms with their siblings, pay absurd rents for dilapidated houses, or return to their parents' homes for lack of options.

What is clear is that the project will first serve to line the pockets of the same old people: companies linked to power, contracts with little transparency, direct awards. And the people will continue to wait, just as they always have. They wait for the keys, for the promises, for an end to exclusion that will never come.

The most curious thing — or perhaps the most revolting thing — is that this kind of promise appears on the eve of elections, as if it were a gift to tame the people. And when the votes are already counted, the dust settles, the machines stop, and everything goes back to square one. I've seen this movie too many times to pretend to be surprised anymore.

Meanwhile, I continue to see families living in shacks, entire neighborhoods without sanitation, streets without lighting. I continue to see young graduates selling refills, making plates, trying their luck in South Africa or Lisbon. But the government invests in a project like PHOENIX as if it were the nation's salvation.

I'm not against housing. I'm against lies. Against waste. Against this cycle where poverty serves as a stage for million-dollar projects that don't solve anything. Against this idea that people are only good for photography.

PHOENIX is not a rebirth. It is continuity. It is just another glass building hiding the cracks in the system. And while those at the top toast to "success", those at the bottom remain homeless, landless and voiceless.

And that is why I write, why I speak, why I do not keep quiet. Because it is no longer enough to complain among friends. Someone has to say, in no uncertain terms, that the people deserve more than pretty facades. They deserve dignity. And dignity is not built with cement and speech. It is built with truth.

2025/12/3