My Angolan friends

 

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.