Private Leisure Club of the Central Bank of Mozambique in Matutuíne: the devil's ironic laughter at the poverty of the peasants

Paulo Vilanculo"

The case of the Bank of Mozambique's leisure complex in the Matutuíne district illustrates the daily perversion of public resources. A luxury space built for the children and employees of the banking elite, in one of the impoverished districts where the majority of the population lives without drinking water, electricity for the peasants, health centers, and minimal access to formal education, it represents a concrete reflection of the dehumanization of power. Was there no complementary social responsibility plan from the bank that benefits the communities surrounding the complex? Institutionalized money laundering? Hidden minerals in the area? What kind of leaders are these? Major public investment projects in Mozambique have not been guided by endogenous priorities or popular needs, but by political, economic, and strategic interests unrelated to local realities. In Mozambique, we are moving toward a systemic pattern of misplaced state priorities, where public bodies like the Bank of Mozambique, which should be an example of responsibility and productive investment, are being built according to a governance model built for the elites, while the people continue to live without dignity. They opt for elitist projects, disconnected from the real needs of local populations. The irony of the Bank of Mozambique's silent scandal in Matutuíne illustrates a governance model built for the elites, while the people are left abandoned. While the central bank builds swimming pools and tennis courts for the children of its employees, mothers in Bela Vista walk more than 10 kilometers to health centers without electricity, assisted births, or dignity. The Bank of Mozambique's decision to build luxury leisure facilities, including swimming pools, tennis courts, and air-conditioned rooms in Matutuíne, one of the country's poorest areas, is a scandalous reflection of the institutional culture that permeates certain public offices in the country. The bank builds swimming pools and tennis courts, but mothers in Bela Vista walk more than 10 kilometers to health centers without electricity or assisted births. Instead of promoting development, the bank appears as an agent of exclusion, favoritism, and opacity. Millions of meticaiswere spent on the construction of the Matutuíne leisure complex, an investment with zero impact on rural development in Maputo province. Heavy investment in an area that ignores local realities and sacrifices endogenous development is a clear example of an outward-looking governance model, where the interests of government officials and their international partners override the priorities of the people. This gesture reveals a complete disconnect from the reality of the people. In a country where more than half the population lives below the poverty line, prioritizing the recreational well-being of the bank's technical elite over basic services for locals is a clear sign of dehumanization and institutional elitism. An isolated investment with restricted access, presumably inflated, raises legitimate suspicions about the possibility of embezzlement or money laundering, a common practice in countries with fragile institutions and little public oversight. The presence of the Central Bank, with its multi-million dollar leisure infrastructure in Matutuíne, without any investment in basic community services, is an affront to the ethics of public service. The strategic choice of location may conceal deeper geoeconomic interests. Perhaps Matutuíne is a region with mining and tourism potential, and there are long-standing suspicions of the presence of heavy sands, natural gas, and other exploitable resources. Installing state infrastructure and closing off the territory would, in this scenario, be an act of incubating disguised territorial domination. In the old logic of internal apartheid, spaces are created for "our own," isolated from the people, in a governance model that replicates the colonial segregationist logic: the elite in luxury, the people in the mud. By building luxurious leisure facilities amidst poverty, the bank governor is sending a perverse message to the population that institutions exist to serve themselves, not to serve others. This fuels the discrediting of the State, the normalization of corruption, and social cynicism. A true face that expresses a lack of commitment to the people and the common good. These are portraits of a country where development is propaganda, and the people's rights are treated as leftovers. Mozambique needs bridges that unite people and institutions that serve the people, not monuments to the vanity of the powerful. What was expected of a national economic leader was strategic vision, social empathy, and a commitment to inclusive development. What we see is the private use of public funds to satisfy narrow corporate interests, a sign that the state has been captured by those who should protect it. When the Central Bank, which should ensure public stability and trust, acts this way, it sends a corrosive message to society: that those at the top can do anything, even if it means ignoring the urgent needs of rural people living without water, electricity, or functioning health centers. What we see is the entrenchment of a culture of privilege and an absent civility, where swimming pools and tennis courts are prioritized in a region where children die for lack of ambulances.

2025/12/3