Dr Ruwan M Jayatunge
Angola is a large Southern African country that was under Portuguese colonial rule for more than 400 years before achieving independence on November 11, 1975. The country ranks among Africa's leading producers of crude oil and diamonds, which are crucial to its export economy and government finances. Portuguese remains the official language, reflecting its colonial past. The population is made up of various Bantu ethnic groups, such as the Ovimbundu, Kimbundu, and Bakongo, each possessing unique languages and cultural practices.
Despite
Angola's considerable oil wealth and recent economic advancements, poverty
remains a pressing challenge, with many citizens experiencing significant
deprivation. As a schoolboy, I recall reading a newspaper article on Agostinho
Neto, who is recognized as the "Father of Modern Angola" and served
as the nation's first president. He died in 1979 in Moscow.
During
my time at the medical faculty, I encountered several students from Angola, one
of whom was Beatris. I first met her at a party organized by African students,
where the atmosphere was filled with vibrant African music and dance. This
event marked my initial exposure to the rhythmic and fast-paced sounds from
Angola, Congo, and Nigeria, which captivated the attendees as they danced
energetically. After dancing together for a while, Beatris and I took a break
in a quiet corner to chat. She spoke Portuguese fluently and had a basic understanding
of English and Russian. Our own grasp of Russian was limited, as we were part
of the preparatory faculty. Consequently, our conversation was a blend of
Portuguese, English, and Russian, creating a unique and enjoyable exchange.
I
informed Beatris that Sri Lanka experienced an invasion by the Portuguese, who
occupied the island for nearly 153 years without successfully subjugating it.
Also mentioned that the influence of this prolonged presence is evident in the
Sri Lankan dialect, which incorporates numerous Portuguese words as a result of
the invasion. I mentioned several words, such as Kerakoppuva, Kanthoruwa, and
Almariya, along with names like Perera, Fonseka, and Pinnye, which she
recognized as having Portuguese origins. She also noted that there are
individuals in Angola with names like Fonseka, Alponso, and Metthayes, highlighting
the linguistic connections that persist across cultures.
After
our initial meeting, we had several encounters at the preparatory faculty
during Russian language classes. She was of petite stature, radiating a natural
beauty characteristic of her African heritage. We shared coffee on multiple
occasions, enjoying each other's company. Upon completing our studies at the
preparatory faculty, she moved to Khmelnytskyi, a city in western Ukraine, and
we went our separate ways. Unfortunately, we never crossed paths again after
that.
I was
acquainted with Carlos Mangera Dasonthus, a tall student from Luanda, Angola,
who attended the same preparatory language faculty as I did. Occasionally, he
would visit my room to engage in casual conversation. One afternoon, while I
was preparing mashed potatoes on a hot plate, he stopped by.
Although
our hostel prohibited the use of hot plates for cooking in individual rooms for
safety reasons, we often resorted to this practice due to the frequent queues
at the communal kitchen, which was equipped with six burners. To avoid
detection by the hostel commandant, aka warden, we took extra precautions to
conceal our cooking activities. During the winter months, the hotplates proved
to be quite beneficial. While the hostel rooms were equipped with central
heating, there were times when we required extra warmth, prompting us to use
the hotplate to heat a pot of water, which helped maintain a comfortable
temperature. However, we had to carry out this activity discreetly, careful to
avoid the watchful eyes of the hostel's warden.
When
Carlos Mangera Dasonthus entered my room, he noticed I was cooking something
and remarked that we also have a similar dish in Angola, referring to it with a
Portuguese term akin to "Manniyok." In that moment, I realized he
mistakenly believed I was preparing Manniyok instead of potatoes. I also
considered that he might think I had brought Manniyok from Sri Lanka. To clarify, I
informed him that I was making mashed potatoes. We then enjoyed a meal of fried
fish accompanied by mashed potatoes.
Carlos
Mangera Dasonthus had a stutter that produced a peculiar sound when he spoke
Russian, often eliciting laughter from some students. While it was entirely
inappropriate to mock someone for a speech impediment, the youthful inclination
to find humour in any situation led to this unfortunate response. On one
occasion, as Carlos struggled to express his ideas, his
efforts appeared amusing, prompting laughter from the students. I was nearby
and found it difficult to suppress my own laughter, which visibly upset him.
Following that incident, he became distant and rarely engaged with me.
Recognizing my mistake, I made a conscious effort to avoid him, understanding
the impact of my actions on his feelings.
After
completing the preparatory faculty, I enrolled in the medical institute, where
Carlos was assigned to my subgroup. However, he deliberately kept his distance
from me, and feeling guilty, I reciprocated by avoiding him as well. It became
evident that he was harbouring a desire for revenge. We shared a political
history class, where the instructor frequently posed questions about current
political events, often attempting to frame them through a Marxist lens. This
led to spirited debates among us. During one lecture, the teacher mentioned the
high unemployment rate in the UK, to which I responded that, despite the
unemployment, individuals received government assistance known as UB 40
(Unemployment Benefit Attendance Card). Carlos, coming from a socialist
background, reacted incredulously, accusing me of lying and personally
attacking me. It was at that moment that I recognized the underlying resentment
he held towards me.
Carlos
intentionally mocked me in front of the teacher and classmates, leaving me
puzzled about his lingering resentment over an incident from more than a year
ago. Fortunately, a student from Ghana, who had previously lived in England,
came to my defence and clarified my statement. Following the incident, I found
myself harbouring some resentment towards Carlos, and we ceased all
communication.
In our
hostel, I became friends with Zarla, a girl from Mali who spoke French and
shared my interest in horror films. She was particularly captivated by the Omen
trilogy, which I owned, and would often visit my room on Saturday evenings to
watch the series. To help her grasp the plot, I translated some of the dialogue
into Russian. Zarla was especially fascinated by the character Damien Thorn and
enjoyed our movie nights, which also included films like Nightmare on Elm
Street and various Satanic horror movies.
One
Saturday evening, after a few weeks had passed, Zarla visited my room to watch
"Children of the Corn." During the film, Carlos unexpectedly entered
my room and yelled at me. He created a very uncomfortable atmosphere. It became
clear that his possessiveness and jealousy had led him to keep tabs on Zarla.
Disturbed by the confrontation, she decided to leave the room to avoid further
conflict. Several weeks later, I encountered her at the Stolovaya, the student
restaurant, where she expressed her apologies for the distress caused by
Carlos's actions.
I
completed my medical degree in August 1993, culminating in a graduation
ceremony followed by a celebratory event. During this occasion, all the
students exchanged greetings and bid farewell to one another. I encountered
Carlos Mangera Dasonthus, but he did not engage with me and appeared visibly
angry.
As I
reflect on my life after many years, I find myself contemplating the journey
that has led me to write my memoirs. My thoughts often drift to Carlos Mangera
Dasonthus, who has grown into a doctor in Angola. I am curious about his
current perception of me, believing that any remnants of anger or resentment
have likely dissipated with time. It would be a pleasure to reconnect, share a
beer, and reminisce about our past, acknowledging the foolishness of our
younger selves while enjoying each other's company.
