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Me in my mum's lap.
Photo captured and developed by my father

Pieces of real lives, on January 20, 1965, Tacuane, Mozambique.

Life was in the bush. 

The atmosphere was one of war.

The men, as always tasked with protecting women and children, combined and defined strategies of defence and dissimulation.

The women went about their lives and pretended that nothing was happening.

The younger children played unaware of the danger; the older ones were warned and trained in escape and defence techniques.

But life was good—as good as anyone could have wished for in the 1960s.

One day it happened—a man was murdered! He was found dead in the house that had been assigned to him the day before. He hadn't even started work at his new job.

The alarm went up!

Women and children were evacuated by aeroplane and placed in safety in the nearest town.

Men gathered at night in safe houses, like war forts!

Left behind was a woman who, because she was expecting a child the following month and didn't know anyone in town, was transported by car, as fast as her husband's car would allow, over 110 kilometres to the nearest village. There, she would meet people who would welcome her like a daughter! 

But... the result of all the nerves and bumps in the road was that the child she was expecting the following month was born the following day, January 21, 1965! 

And it wasn't a son; it was a daughter! Me!

(written by me, Conceição Pereira)