THE COUNTRY OF POSTPONED POTENTIALT

Luis Munguambe Junior"

When I look at the horizon of this land, I feel a mixture of admiration and uneasiness. Beneath my feet, the soil holds precious minerals, inexhaustible resources and a fertility that should be synonymous with abundance and well-being. But, when I look down at the streets, the contradiction strikes me: the people, these same people who work hard and tread this blessed land every day, live in poverty. As if the land that shelters us were more valuable than us, who were born here and built our lives. How is it possible for such abundance to coexist with such deprivation? Reality is woven by two worlds that coexist, but rarely meet. It is a country that is said to be on the path to development, an example of potential to be explored. I grew up hearing about the potential of our country. I was told about the riches that lie beneath our soil – coal, gas, rubies – as if they were treasures that would one day lift us out of poverty. Yet I watch these same resources slip through the fingers of our nation, controlled by a few, while many struggle for the basics: food, water, dignity. Favelas grow, inequalities increase. On the streets, the faces of the people are portrayed in contradiction: smiles forged by habit, faces tanned by the sun and daily effort. The calloused hands that build, plant, carry and transform. Hands that give life to the country, but that, paradoxically, receive little from it. The abundance that lies underground never reaches the tables where hunger, relentless, sits like a constant guest. Potential overflows underground, while deficiencies are blatantly exposed on the surface.

When will the riches that spring from the soil finally spring up for the people? When will we truly stop being poor in the midst of so much abundance? There is no easy answer, no magic solution. But what I do know is that the cycle of poverty while the land is rich must end. The people have the right to see this wealth translated into real opportunities. They have the right to be part of what is rightfully theirs. If the soil is rich, let it be a reflection of a prosperous people, and not of the poverty of spirit that keeps us on the margins of what is just.

How can a country look to the future when the present is stained with so much blood? I do not write these words with bitterness, but with the pain of someone who wants to believe that we can be more, that we can be better. But hope alone does not build roads, does not put food on the plates, does not heal the wounds opened by time and neglect. Ultimately, the richness of the soil is only true if it is shared. And until we are able to transform this fertile soil into true prosperity for all, we will continue to be prisoners of a rich land, but of a poor people. And that, my dear friends, is an injustice that we can no longer tolerate. And I know that this dream will not be realized by politicians in luxurious offices or by foreign investors who see us as a business. This dream will be realized by us, by the people, when we realize that, united, we are stronger than the two worlds that divide us. Until then, I will continue to write, to speak, to question. Because the Mozambique I want to see is one where the truth, however harsh it may be, is the starting point for change. A Mozambique where light reaches every corner, and where the two worlds finally become one.

2025/12/3