The biggest day in Lichinga’s history thus far – say hello to your new governor

Well over ten thousand Lichingans (are there even that many residents here?) gathered in the normally deserted centre of town, the roundabout, to welcome in their new governor: a day so momentous it resulted in yet another public holiday (businesses were fined if anyone was caught working in the afternoon).

It was a uniquely Mozambican experience: apart from starting well over one and a half hours late, the roundabout was packed with people – in the paths, trees, everywhere …



… After waiting one and a half hours for it to start, I eventually left ten minutes into the ceremony when I realized I couldn’t understand a word that was being said (and it was hot, and dial-up internet was calling). But not before the ceremony had left its indelible mark on me – in many ways it summarized Mozambique to me: the intertwining of rich and the poor … and me.

1. Mozambique the rich

The stage was filled with dignitaries, all chauffeured to the marshalling area by the Mozambican equivalent of the limousine, the Toyota Landcruiser. There, in fine suits under a sheltered stage, they waited for the new governor of the province to arrive. An expensive sound system blared out gawdy R&B tunes from the 1990’s to pacify the crowds as they waited in the hot sun.

2. Mozambique the poor

Thousands of people, many in worn out clothes – a notable exception being t-shirts and skirts bearing the party name or the face of the leader (were they free? I was trying to find out if they were giving them away, but couldn’t find anything) – celebrating, beating drums, and dancing, sweating, laughing.



Little kids running around looking for free food or action or asking me to take a photo of them … other kids with buckets, trying to sell the day’s latest fried delicacies. And, with all the shops closed from midday onwards, I was forced to oblige them …



3. Mozambique for me

This was probably the first event with a large gathering of people where, in my life, I have been the only Asian (and potentially the last!). But I have never felt so stared at: everywhere I turned, eyes gazing at me – if it wasn’t for my good looks and fashion sense, you would think there was something wrong with me!? Seriously though, it would be tough to be a foreigner here; never quite fitting in, always the oddball …

To satisfy my hunger over the course of the 90 minute wait, I bought some of the fried pastries the kids were selling. 20 cents goes a long way on the street; buying me a bag of something deep fried. Whatever it was, I thought it was disgusting (it was unhealthy AND didn’t taste good!), so I looked for the chance to give it away. I offered the bag to a nearby kid and he immediately thanked me, then was mobbed by his friends to get a share of the takings.

This was really rammed home to me when I was eating a roll of bread and drinking a coke in a nearby shop behind the stage, waiting for the ceremony to start. I’m a bit of a messy eater, and managed to get crumbs all over me. I watched the eyes of many kids standing outside the door, watching me spill crumbs all over myself; their eyes wondering what it must be like to purchase a bread roll (50 cents) or a bottle of coke (30 cents).

I’m never good with finishing food I don’t really like: this time it was the crusts that I left on the plate. I saw them stare at the crusts with envy as the waitress took it away: if I didn’t feel it was demeaning, it would have given it to them; in fact, it made me wish that I hadn’t have ordered more than I could chew ...