A Day to Honour Samora Machel

It's amazing how many times over the past couple of months we've shook our heads saying, "This just doesn't happen in Canada..."

Today is just another one of those days.

Yesterday, I was thinking about how busy my day today was going to be. I already had a couple of meetings scheduled, plus Portuguese lessons, when the director of Laura's school asked me to fill in for a sick teacher.

All of that changed by mid-afternoon, when rumours started circulating that the government declared the following day -- today -- to be a national holiday. How can a government declare a holiday less than 12 hours before it starts? How will everyone be informed? Don't businesses and schools need to prepare to be closed?

In Mozambique, people have a way of knowing. Rumours about holidays spread through the city like a grassfire on the dry savannah.

As one young man, Timoteo, explained to me, "We Mozambicans like our holidays." I can't argue with that.

At first, Laura's school had thought that it would stay open -- until rumours of government fines convinced them otherwise. Laura helped the school's director phone all of the parents to let them know that they would have to make alternative arrangements for their children.

* * * * *

Twenty years ago, October 19, 1986, Samora Machel, the first president of the independent Republic of Mozambique, died when his plane crashed in the hills of South Africa. There is no official explanation for the cause of the crash, but every Mozambican knows what happened: South Africa's apartheid government, under President P. W. Botha, planted a false beacon in the hills, steering the plane off course and causing it to crash into the hillside.

(As an interesting historical footnote, Samora Machel's widow, Graça Machel, later remarried apartheid-fighter Nelson Mandela, who became the President of South Africa.)

Samora Machel is still seen as somewhat of a national hero, albeit a controversial one. For today's celebration, the government hung banners in the streets reminiscent of Machel's tenure as president of a socialist state struggling against capitalism. This banner stretched across Avenida Vladimir Lenine, near our apartment:

"SAMORA COMMITS US TO CONTINUE THE
STRUGGLE UNTIL THE FINAL VICTORY."

When I asked my friend Mario about Samora Machel, he spoke with a bit of admiration and even romanticism in his voice -- similar to the way in which he speaks of his deceased father.

I can't argue with the purpose of the holiday. I just would have thought that the government would have seen it coming and could have planned ahead a bit further. But that's not the African way.