Friday, September 4, 2015


All people love peace. Those who have been through a war know that there is no more precious value. They know that peace is another name of life itself. We live for months under the permanent threat of a return to war. Those who thus threaten should know that one who is threatened is not just a government. The threat is an entire people, an entire nation.
It may not be this time may not be the place. But it is necessary that the owners of the weapons listen: do not use us, to us, Peace citizens, as a medium of exchange. Do not use us as cannon fodder. The proverb says that "under the feet of elephants sufferers is the grass." But we are not grass. Deserve respect, deserve to live without fear. Who want to make policy that makes policy. But do not point a gun at the future of our children. This is what I wanted to say before saying anything else.
That is forgiven me this excited introito. That I be forgiven the lack of etiquette that should begin by welcoming the presence of the President, the President Filipe Jacinto Nyussi. In fact, His Excellency President, you may have delayed this moment because a writer should never declare himself speechless. In fact, knowing of his intense and precious occupation, I do not find words to thank you for the honor of your presence.
What I mean is welcome your call to rethink the way we conceive ourselves as a people and a nation. We want to be part of this effort, we want to learn to be a country that does not exclude a plural and diverse country. We want to help build a nation that takes fearlessly their differences. This new attitude may be the cure for a type of autism that we had been suffering. I welcome the presence of President Joaquim Chissano, is delighted Revee it.
It's hard to imagine how even listening, we can be deaf. Selectively deaf. We listen to those who are close to us, listen to those who obey us, hear what we please hear. We listen to our party, especially those who do not listen to the criticism. Everything else does not exist, everything else is a lie, everything else is slander. Everything else is cast by the "other". And it's almost a paradox: because they take up entire pages of newspapers to say that the "Other" should not be heard. Spend up hours of radio and television programming to say what others said nothing. These "others" who want to question what we do, these others are "outsiders", the same way of being "foreign." The truth, however, is that no one can negate the existence of these "other". No one can deny that they are Mozambicans. No one can know if they have reason to not let that speak freely. This is the great lesson of President Nyussi who understood reconcile one nation apart from herself. It is he who reminds us that those who say "no", are the same family of those who say "yes". This is the same family that has a single house. There is no other place, no other destination but this by the name of Mozambique.
I say all this without any embarrassment. Because we all, starting with you, Mr President, we want to get away from the practice of flattery. With its attitude of openness and simplicity, the President suggests another relationship, closer, more real. After all, it is easy to imagine that together with Your Excellency has already created a procession of sycophants. Fortunately, came forth a warning sign: so he took office, President Felipe Nyussi began receiving people who do not clapped, people who had raised questions and criticism. His ministers are doing the same, are to listen to those who think differently, they are to sit with those who are no longer ministers, are learning these others who were sentenced to condition already have been somebody. It seems before the huge problems we face. But this way of dealing with people may suggest another way to deal with great challenges.
For all this wanted to say to him, thank you very much, Mr President. Thank you very much for having returned to our family size. Thank you for having restored our status as residents in the same house. For a long time we were led to build boundaries that separated us in small nations within the larger Mozambican nation. For a long time some have suggested that there were Mozambican categories, some more authentic than others. Still survives in some identities that police look. Even today some people assess others by the color of their skin, the color of the tribe, by the color of his party. Even today, there are those who, instead of discussing ideas, attack people. And even those who prevail, instead of seeking solutions, seeking ways to hide the problems. All this cosmetic was being done in the name of unity and patriotism. This whole scenario of normality is an inheritance calling for a firm response. This post was brought to you. Without great proclamations, but a firm and continuous basis. We know today that their message: we have the resources we have. It is not as promising as our human heritage made so much as different people.
The President is creating a dynamic that is much more than a new policy. It is a new culture. And this culture can make a difference in the whole history of Mozambique. Congratulations on as already lit as hope, congratulations on your patient so without recourse to authoritarianism without use of easy demagoguery. Congratulations by the way started to return to politics its ethical and human dimension.

Rector Professor Dr. Lourenço do Rosário
They say that the writers are masters of words. Are not. Words fortunately has no owner. Sometimes, I feel sorry so be it. Because if it had that power I would relieve the forms of treatment that are much heavier than these my new clothes.
In fact, Professor Dr. Lourenço do Rosário do not need polishing a title whatever it is. Rosary Lawrence earned a place of respect not only in academia but in Mozambican society as a man committed to his people and his country. And this moral authority that comes in exercising its role of mediator of the talks at the Conference Centre Joaquim Chissano. We know how hard to find among us characters able to put together such a broad consensus. We are a nation that was invited to take on extreme dualities. Those who defend the clarity of the exemption were always regarded with suspicion. 
Your latest words are a warning for anyone who forgets that the country does not belong to any party. I'll play these your words at the risk of being the quote via the newspapers (and newspapers are more creative than any writer). The teacher reportedly said: "Basically, the opposition party is proving its claim to comply with what the popular jargon calls" it was our turn. "
Translating their words in the oral language teacher Rosario knows so well the result might look like: is that for some, politics is a pan. You have to eat a lot and fast because the spoon is hard fought and the meal can last bit. For others, however, the policy is still the noble art of serving others, politics is still the task of putting first and foremost the interests of all. Possibly who both claim against partisanship is not against the principle itself. Want, yes, partidarizar two. I do not care the name of the parties. My question is not so much political than for that, little vocation left. It is an objection of moral nature. It is important to me as a citizen that persists in some Mozambican leaders, the idea that Mozambique is a private backyard. A yard whose destiny is to be paid in installments as interests and conveniences.
Let me Rector that despite the solemnity of this act, the case by the most honorable qualifying I know that is the "teacher". There is no other title than me more honor me. For years, I taught in different schools in Maputo. Even today, after almost ten years, these my students pass me and treat me per teacher. I can not imagine how much it touches me and how much I am afraid not have size to fill that word. Teacher is not who teaches. It's who gives lessons. Is not that going to school teaching. It is one whose life is a school.
For our Rosary Lawrence Teacher called me a few months ago to tell me that the Polytechnic University had chosen me to receive this degree. He confessed that he was afraid that I would not accept this distinction. I'm not a person of titles or honors. But I was not able to say no. Because the person speaking to me because of the institution he represented. Still have the heart to ask him, but the ceremony will be uniformed protocols, speeches and hats? And he answered tersely:'ll have to be. And that "will have to be" left no room for negotiation.
It took me months to get used to the idea of ​​this solemn ceremony. When she thought she had reconciled me with the ghost of clothing, there was a small and unfortunate incident. It's sad that I had the idea to show my grandchildren photographs of another doctoral ceremonies. And one of them enthusiastically asked, but, grandfather, you'll have to wear these long skirts? Because I want to take this time to reassure my dear companion, Patricia, who is sitting there and tell you the following: Patricia, under these long skirts is still a man's pants.
I also want to talk about Luis Bernardo Honwana, my godfather. The word "godfather" won today one deslustrosa connotation and, from now on, there will be the same, my dear Luis Bernardo, who dares to ask you one way and arranjes a dress for a friend in need of titles. I mean, however, that, in your case, fully reunion me what is the etymology of the word "godfather" who is the guide and guiding. In fact, there is much that Luis Bernardo, without knowing it, has been fulfilling this role model in my performance as a writer and as a person. You need to repeat here how much we, Mozambican writers, we are indebted to Luis Bernardo. What he left us as a legacy is much of what he wrote. It's kind of inaugural manifesto, one setting up ways that we later came to walk. Luis Bernardo Honwana, José Craveirinha, Noemia de Souza and João Dias were the first four vertices of this construction of voices, the one point proclaimed: we want to write history with our own handwriting. Louis Bernard, I know you are averse to these tracts: but I can not help but express my infinite gratitude for being who you are: an umbrella and inspirational figure in writing, in life and thought.
Here is something that I still reveal: I started working as a journalist in exactly the same newspaper where LBH it had also started as a reporter. This newspaper was called the TRIBUNE. That was a very interesting time because there was a discovery game. There was a journalism who was looking for his own country; but there was also a country that rode the search for a journalism that was his. And this double demand called for a journalism done next door to the literature. It was no accident that not only José Luis Bernardo but Craveirinha, rui knopfli, Gonçalves Carneiro and Luis Carlos Patraquim they were all journalists and writers. I owe a lot to these people, this nonconformity environment that reigned in newspaper production. I remember the first day I introduced myself in the writing and I was called by someone that I revered as a poet and it was Rui Knopfly. And he said, want to be a journalist? And before I answer he handed me a sheet of paper. This sheet was reproduced a quote from an American singer named Frank Zappa. And the phrase read: "Journalism today is to put journalists who can not write interviewing people who can not talk for people who can not read. "It was a good career start.
He remembered Luis Bernardo Honwana my parents. And I'm grateful for that memory that does justice to the history of my family. All that I am comes from that, that is my source of time and children's time, grandchildren and those who come after. The world in which I was born and I became a man fed up prejudice. Creating walls to separate and grade races. The walls did not offend only those who were on the other side. The on this side, they are converted themselves into stereotypes. We were, of one and the other hand, decreased by fear and ignorance. We believe that the effect of racial and tribal prejudices is to try to devalue another race. And this is true. These biases also result in another insidious effect that is the negation of the existence of individuals, each with its own identity. This is what makes racism, sexism and tribalism: each person ceases to be a single creature, to read the identity of the group. Lets you have a face, a voice, a soul, we become identified with a general label:. Blacks, whites, matsuas, the spinefeet, the North, the South is talk of someone and there a voice that says, ah, I know how it is, I know those guys.
Dear friends
I will talk about the erosion of moral values ​​and how a writer can help in the rehabilitation of the moral fabric of society.
I chose this topic because I do not know anyone who does not mourn the loss of moral values. This is a subject on which we have an immediate national consensus. Everyone agrees, even those who never had any moral value. And even those who take advantage of immorality, even these after profiting from the absence of rules, complain that it takes to catch the lack of decorum.
One of the ways we can help rescue this lost may be the moral of literature. I am referring to literature as the art of telling and listening to stories. I speak for myself: the great lessons of ethics I learned came dressed in stories, legends, fables. I'm not here to invent anything. This is the mechanism more efficient and oldest reproduction of morality. On every continent, in every generation, the oldest invented stories to delight younger. And just this enchantment passed not only wisdom but a sense of propriety, decency, respect and generosity.
There is some thirty years ago Graça Machel - who was then Minister of Education - convened a group of writers to tell them she was worried. I'm worried, she said, we are teaching in schools abstract values ​​as the revolutionary spirit of patriotism, internationalism. But we are not teaching the most basic values ​​such as friendship, loyalty, generosity, be faithful and doer of the word, solidarity be with others. And she asked us that we write stories that would be published in textbooks. Graça Machel had the conviction that a good story, a seductive story, is more efficient than any doctrinal text.
I wanted to illustrate the power of stories with two small examples. In these next few moments I will share with you two experiences and how these experiences have produced in me enduring lessons.

The first episode - a nation looking for an anthem
Just now in this room we sing the National Anthem. This song has a story and I'm connected to this story. It happened like this: at the beginning of the 80s, Samora Machel decided that the then current national anthem should be changed. He was right: the letter was more a praise to the very Frelimo than an exaltation of the Mozambican nation. We were still far from the multi-party system, but Samora made this decision. And in that way it was her, "he ordered" four poets and 5 musicians and locked them in a house in Matola with the task of producing not one but several proposals hymns. I was one of four poets. It was wartime, the only thing we had in the shops were empty shelves. Every day we leave home with a single obsession: what to bring to eat for our family. Because by then all of a sudden we were in a house with swimming pool, surrounded by perks and served food and drink. I confess that in the early days we were fascinated in such a way that little worked. When, in the afternoon, we heard the sirens of cars of the leaders we ran to the piano and improvised an air of great weariness. By late afternoon, we and my colleagues we handed our wives that we came to visit, containers with food that each of us had spared during the day. And so, after a week, we produced a handful of songs that were tested by a choral group and presented to an evaluation commission. There were two proposals that deserve our preference: one was that this is now our national anthem, the Beloved Fatherland. The other was based on a Chemane conductor composition and had a refrain that said "Homeland heroes! Lift up thy voice! Viva Mozambique, united people, The star of tomorrow shine "The choir submitting the proposal instead of Heroes homeland sang," Rice Motherland "and the proposal was forgotten.
What happened is that, for unknown reason, the Samora initiative came to nothing. Samora died, the group of artists was scrapped and each of us returned to the queue waiting for the cabbage and horse mackerel. And we never remember what we had done.
A decade later, the new multi-party parliament was looking for a new national anthem. And I was part of a task force set up by Parliament. This group gathered people appointed by the Frelimo Party and the RENAMO. I must say that in fact work together in a harmony environment such that we forgot that we represented two rival forces. We did two tenders but the bids received were all of them very weak. The late Albino Magaia then published an article recalling the hymns that ten years ago, a group of artists had created. And so we rescued these records when we were the last day of the meeting. We chose the Patria Amada with some doubts. What was no doubt, however, was that the song was not approved that day, it would have to wait for the next session months later. And that was a matter of great sensitivity and urgency.
Because in those last moments, colleagues Renamo objected on some passages of the letter. In fact, most of these objections made sense. because some of the verses of that letter were actually marked by a time of revolution. No longer extolled no political force. But there was talk of proletarians, spoke on the red sun. I asked the working group a few minutes and there in the next room, changed the passages that aroused controversy. It was there that came the "Sun June", for example, to replace the red sun. And the anthem was approved by the group and transferred to debate between Members.
Interestingly one of the passages that raised most objections was the one that says "We swear for you Mozambique, no tyrant in will enslave us." Some members thought it should not be there. Because, according to them, we would never have in Mozambique the threat of a tyrant. Every country in the world can suffer breakage. We do not. I can not imagine how one can sustain this certainty. There is also the naive idea that we Mozambicans are, by any divine reason, above ordinary mortals. But we are human and be with us those, who in greed of sending are already tyrants before they win the power. Thankfully, dear friends, that this verse was not removed. There are many ways of being a tyrant. There are several way to be a slave. And it's good that our anthem encourage us not to accept any form of tyranny or slavery.

Second episode - Non Samora speech
At the Fourth Congress of the Frelimo in 1983, I was appointed as head of the Press Office. We journalists, we were confined to a glass-enclosed compartment in a kind of suspended aquarium on the large room. At the time, we already were producing television broadcasts in addition, of course, radio and newspapers. Right at the beginning of the work, Samora Machel took the podium to speak. It carried with it the Central Committee's report which was, like the revolutionary parties, a voluminous document. Once started reading, Samora had a brief hesitation, put the papers on the counter and spoke extemporaneously. It was a brief impromptu but what he said was, for me, more important and more enduring than the extended Central Committee's report. Leaning on the podium, as if he won the proximity of a confides, Samora converted the solemn Congress Hall in an area with family privacy. And he spoke of his feeling of strangeness to be seen as a former guerrilla now surrounded by facilities, surrounded by the protocol obligations and security of a presidential palace. And he said, spoke of what he called the "sweet bullets of the enemy." Referred to the more subtle forms of seduction and corruption which, in his view, were more perverse than real bullets. And he wondered if his companions were really prepared for this clash, if they were prepared to face the sugar candy. The room was suspended that confidence. The radio and television transmitted in direct that outburst of the President. And if listened not only the words but the silences and the restless breath of the president. At that moment, an official of the Protocol entered the Press Office and handed me a paper with a scrawled statement saying immediately interrupt transmission. That was, for me, a cold shower. Because it seemed to me, as a journalist and as a citizen, what was happening there was a didactic range that could not be recovered if we lost the transmission. But there was an order ticket that I had no way to refute. It occurred to me a little maneuvering fun. I just wanted an additional minutinhos. Perhaps the President did not use more than these minutes? And I wrote the following on his back on the ticket: sorry, do not understand the signature well, does not care to identify best, after all it is the President who is speaking very slowly .... I folded the sheet and asked the Messenger protocol that was back . That back and forth gave me time for the president finished his impromptu direct transmission.
Of my entire career eleven years of journalism may have been the greatest moment. Because here was a leader of a nation that undressed of his infallible status shared and not a certainty, but the confession of an insecurity, a weakness. There was not a revolutionary leader speaking out loud, but a man bent with grief and murmuring doubts about how much it was worth it all his fight.
During a break of that Congress had the opportunity to sit with a group of veterans of the national liberation struggle. And they were reporting as clandestinely left the country to join the nationalist struggle. Some of these men confessed that the main reason for his escape was not the liberation of the motherland. What moved them out of Mozambique was able to study. And when, in Tanzania, received the news that instead of studying, would fight these militants were assailed by lacerating doubts. Some thought into desert and flee from the training camps. This is what confessed. And I thought there was more courage in that confession, than in all its perilous odyssey. Those little stories humanizavam the solemn and official narrative that presents the epic of the nationalists as a supermen show. After all, no one was born hero. He grew up, had doubts, she felt fear. Most bravery not in the way they fought to others. The great courage is inside fighting, that we do to overcome ourselves.
I spoke to you earlier this hymn proposal called Homeland Heroes which was sung as Rice homeland. I remember that at the time, even liked the misconception of the singers, because they came to mind the words of Albert Camus remembered when Algeria where he was born and said, "the poor country that needs heroes."
At that time I thought it might be preferable to a homeland of rice to a homeland heroes. The truth is that our national epic was appropriated by an empty speech jingoistic exaltation.
The result is that our streets and squares are filled with heroes names. To these heroes, however, they lack face, it lacks voice, they lack life. We have inherited a heroic story of heroes without history. We just have to History with a capital H. They lack the short stories, we lack the little episodes that entice the imagination and sustain memory.

Dear friends
The other day, a young officer offered me the payment of a bribe to issue a document. That did not go well because he, at one point, recognized me and stepped back on your purposes.
To redeem the young man explained as follows:

- You know, Mr. Mia I loved to be an honest person, but I lack the sponsorship.

It will not be exactly the patronage that keeps us from honesty. What we need is to create a narrative that proves that honesty is worth it. Some people confuse the fight against absolute poverty by the struggle for absolute greed. They suggested us that self esteem can be resolved by the ostentatious luxury.
A certain narrative still wants to prove that it is worth lying, it's worth stealing, and that is worth anything but be honest and work. Incidentally, the word "work" raises very strong allergies. Can have business, you can have designs. But having a job that's ever. That work takes much time and, moreover, gives much work. But deep down, we all know: Fast enrich and effortlessly can only be done one way: stealing, vigarizando, corrupting and being corrupted. There exists in the world, integer, another recipe.
We are concerned that our students come to college with weak academic performance. Because I think even more worrying that our young people grow up without moral references. We are committed to issues such as entrepreneurship as if our sons were destined to be entrepreneurs. We occupy leadership courses as if the next generation were all designed to create political and leaders. I do not see much interest in preparing our children to be simply good people, good citizens of their country, good citizens of the world.
Once wrote that the greatest misfortune of a poor country is that instead of producing wealth, will produce rich. Today could add that another problem of poor nations is that, instead of producing knowledge, produce doctors (until now I've already been promoted ..,). Instead of promoting research, issuing diplomas. Another misfortune of a poor nation is the only model of success selling to new generations. And this model is evident in the video clips that go on our television: a young rich and poor manners, surrounded by luxury cars and easy girls, a young man who thinks he's American, a young man who hates the poor because they They make them remember their own origin.
It has to go against all this current. It must show that it pays to be honest. It needs to create stories in which the winner is not the most powerful. Stories that who was chosen was not the most arrogant but the most tolerant, one that listens to others. Stories in which the hero is not the boot-licking, not the street-smart. Perhaps that the stories are such sponsorship missed our young employee.
All this is urgent and imperative. Because we are on the verge of discrediting ourselves. We have all listened to someone following withdrawal: not worth it, we are like that. We are kids waiting to be tied in any pasture. We are learning to desqualificarmo us. We are replicating the racism that others invented to demote us as a lower moral quality people.
And I will end by sharing a real episode that was experienced by my colleagues. After Independence, a control program in river flow was installed in Mozambique. Forms were distributed by hydrological stations around the country. The destabilization war broke out and this project, like many others, was interrupted for more than a dozen years. When peace was reinstated in 1992, the authorities have relaunched this program believing that everywhere, it had to start from scratch. However, a surprise awaited the brigade visited an isolated hydrometric station inside of Zambezia. The old guard had remained active and fulfilled, with daily zeal, his mission during those years. Sold out the forms, he switched to the walls of the station to register, coal, hydrological data. Inside and outside, the walls were covered with notes and the old house looked like an immense book of stone. Upon receiving the brigade the old guard at the door the season, with pride of those who served day after day, ran out of paper, he said, but my fingers are not over. This is my book. He pointed to the house.

And that's the story with that end. "

» » Mia Couto (1955) is a writer, poet, journalist and Mozambican biologist.He was awarded the "Latin Union of Romantic Literature" and "Camões Prize", among others.The WRITER Mozambican Mia Couto received in Maputo, the Polytechnic University, the title of Doctor Honoris Causa in Humanities in the specialty literature (above your speech full) .The award the title of the degree of Doctor Honoris Causa to this which is one of the most important writers and award-winning country takes place after the proposal has been approved by the Scientific Council of what is considered the largest private university is the nacional.Esta first time the writer Camões Prize in 2013, gets a title of its kind in the country and available information indicates that in Portugal the author has been awarded by the University of Évora.

0 comentários:

Post a Comment