«I write about Mindelo with irony»

Chijioke Obinna

«I write about Mindelo with irony»

Germano Almeida, writer

The house of Germano Almeida, one of the most renowned writers in Cape Verde, is on a hillside in Mindelo. From his office the city spreads out, with the port, the sea and Mount Cara in the background. Next to the window is placed, discreetly – almost hidden – the Camões Prize, the highest award in Portuguese literature, which was awarded to him in 2018. In that frame he talks to MN.

How do you see the country half a century after decolonization?

Cape Verde must be divided into two periods, before and after colonization. After independence, Cape Verde stopped being what it was. When people complain, I ask them to remember that 50 years ago we had nothing. Of course, the revolution that led to independence is still ongoing. From time to time we suffer shocks, from time to time we have counterrevolutions, but, in general, the country is progressing. I think we have had an upward trend since independence.

That caught you in Portugal…

Independence occurred not so much for an ideological reason as for a matter of necessity. The country could not continue as it was, with people always hungry when it forgot to rain. And, yes, I was in Lisbon finishing my law studies.

How did you experience it from the old metropolis?

We were at home and we followed him with a radio device. It sounded bad. He was with the radio in a window. I recently wrote a text about it and my daughter, who did not experience it, told me: “It moved me.” I responded: “It’s exactly the emotion I felt.” In those moments I said to myself: “From now on I am an independent man. “I have the right to a passport and nationality.” This is something that is priceless.

Did you want to return to your country?

Yes. I finished the course and came.

His career is marked by literature, but also by journalism. In which world do you feel most comfortable?

In literature.

Because?

I do journalism out of necessity. My profession is that of a lawyer, which cannot deviate too much from the laws. As a journalist, I also have to limit myself to the facts I want to write about. Meanwhile, the fiction writer is entitled to invent reality however he wants. That’s why I feel much more comfortable, more free, as a fiction writer.

Why did you need to do journalism?

Because there are many situations that I understand need to be reported and if no one does… I like to say that I never do what others want me to do. When I write in the newspaper it is because there is a situation, any social issue, that needs to be reported and no one is doing it, but it is not because it is my vocation. No, it’s not.

Did you practice journalism during the times of the single party (the multi-party system was adopted in 1990)?

Yes, I did a lot of journalism during the days of the single party.

Was it easy or difficult?

I think the difficulty is more in our heads than in reality. I am a Law graduate and they can only pursue me according to the law. I know the laws and I know how far I can go. There are margins that I will not exceed, and if I am within them, they cannot do anything to me. We have an idea of ​​censorship that is much more inside us than outside. I practiced journalism at the time of the single party, which considered me contrary to them. I wasn’t against it, but I wasn’t interested in telling them I was for it either. So, when they did it wrong, I was going to tell them that they were going the wrong way. Only after the political change did they verify that he was not against the party in power. I was opposed, however, to the errors that I thought the party was making. And he wrote it and said it.

As for literature, what are you working on?

Some time ago a book by García Márquez fell into my hands (The smell of guava), for which I have a great passion. It was a long interview with a friend of his (the writer and journalist Plinio Apuleyo Mendoza). I said to a friend: “What do you think about doing something similar to this?” It seemed good to him, but you start talking and you realize that, although the idea is the same, nothing similar to that comes out. We started talking about my childhood in Boa Vista and that is a world that never ends. There are 3,000 people living there and I have already written three books about Boa Vista. My friend recorded me, transcribed the conversation and I realized that it was a world, a spring that is growing with things that I didn’t even remember I knew. We don’t know when it will end, although it is being very interesting.

Do you like to talk about yourself and your life?

Yes, I really liked discovering practically my childhood. I’m enjoying this job, yes, although I don’t just talk about myself, but I also talk about the people I’ve lived with, about life…

What was your childhood like in Boa Vista?

My third book about Boa Vista was about childhood seen through the eyes of an adult. My editor in Portugal suggested that I title it Return to paradise. He was the one who reminded me that I said that I was born and raised in a paradise, although that was influenced, above all, by the image that I created of the island, mainly of my parents’ house. We grew up with very few things that limited us. I lived and grew up in a paradise.

If Boa Vista is a paradise, what is Mindelo, the city where you live, to you?

Mindelo has nothing to do with Boa Vista. There was a man nearby, a man who was a Primary and Secondary teacher, who said that “all people think that Mindelo is a paradise, but Mindelo is a little hell.” When I write about Boa Vista I do it with affection, I feel like I am returning to my childhood, while about Mindelo I write with irony. I am a stranger in Mindelo. I’m not saying it’s very strange, but it is strange, at least. I see Mindelo from the outside, while I see Boa Vista from the inside. I’m one from there. Not in Mindelo. I analyze Mindelo, I contemplate it, I write it… I have written many books about the city, but without being from here, I write as an observer. Of course, I really like being here and I really like the people here.

But he has lived more here than in Boa Vista.

Yes, yes. There is no comparison.

And despite that, you still see the city from outside?

Yes, always.

What do you see?

A society with interesting people, something that I think has a lot to do with the formation of the island, with the movement of the ports, especially in the early days, when there were always people coming and going. In the morning you had contact with French people, for example; at midnight with the English, in the afternoon with the Swedes, with the Turks, with the Greeks… No ties could be created. And that absence of ties means that people are always available. This created a type of people in São Vicente. I like to say that Mindelo is a society where people don’t need five minutes to get a friend, but they don’t need ten to lose one either. Santiago is completely different. In Santiago, people need years to get a friend, but they never lose one. The big difference between the two cultures, in my opinion, is the superficiality of Mindelense society compared to the depth of Santiago.

How many worlds are there in a country as small as Cape Verde?

I would say that there is a world with a core, but ten different experiences. The man from São Vicente has nothing to do with the man from Boa Vista. Neither that of Boa Vista with that of Santo Antão. The islands conditioned the type of man we had. Santo Antão is an island linked to agriculture, and this requires patience, you have to wait. Boa Vista was also an island linked to pastures. It is said that the morna was born there. This is understandable, because caring for a herd of goats is an activity in which you have to sit and do nothing else, so you have time to think. On the other hand, colonization was different in the windward and leeward islands. Then we must take into account the slaves from the continent, who were initially on the island of Santiago. Over time, around 1780, they realized that the northern islands had more black populations, because many of those who arrived from the mainland stayed. There was even an idea of ​​doing the same thing that Trump is trying now, returning them to the continent, but they realized that they were communities that had been there for centuries. They discarded that project, but thought about “recolonizing” the northern islands with a larger white population. If you look at the country today, the northern islands, except Brava, have a higher percentage of mestizos than the southern ones. Fogo, Santiago and Maio are black islands, while the windward ones are lighter. The culture of the islands is different, largely, for this reason.

What impact has Portugal had on Cape Verdean literature?

Very little, because the influence that the Cape Verdeans sought was Brazilian, especially from the northeast, which had a culture close to ours, of very humble people and poor land. Brazilian writers like Graciliano Ramos influenced our literature and made the idea of ​​a narrative emerge clearly that would translate our reality into the image and likeness of what Brazilians had done in their country.

Have you thought about writing in Creole?

No never. I think it would be a mistake to try that instead of doing what I think I do best, writing in Portuguese.

Do you understand that there are authors who fight to write in native languages ​​and not in colonial languages?

Perfectly. I understand and respect it. Although I don’t do it, I belong to a movement that works to make Creole an official language. Many of us use a language that we know well, even if we do not have the culture of that language. I understand when people want to return to the original languages, because it is the language of our feelings. We use foreign languages ​​because we know their grammar, their rules…, but we do not have the feeling of that language. And that is important.

What or who does Germano Almeida read?

I read a lot. Among the authors who influenced me the most are García Márquez, Jorge Amado or José de Queirós, not to mention Cape Verdean authors such as Baltasar Lopes da Silva, Manuel Lopes or Luís Romano, who wrote a tremendous book, Famintos. At this moment I privilege historical readings. I recently came across a book written about Germany after World War II, time of wolves (by Harald Jähner). I loved it. I was very curious to know what Germany thinks of itself after the conflict. These are the readings I’m looking for.

What historical events interest you?

None in particular. They are all interesting, they all bring something new. Whenever I read, when I study, I think about how that can serve my land.

How do you see the world today? What do you think when you see or read the news?

Right now the world is dominated by Trump. Although people complain about him, sometimes I think that Trump is a man, but that there was a people who voted for him in the majority. Trump represents something, the worst of the American people, but do we know his history? America is a land that has an interesting merit, it is a land in which characters like John Steinbeck or Gore Vidal and other great writers that people know have emerged, but which has also produced Trump. And we are waiting to see how the world will react to Trump’s outrages.

Chijioke Obinna

I've been passionate about storytelling and journalism since my early days growing up in Lagos. With a background in political science and years of experience in investigative reporting, I aim to bring nuanced perspectives to pressing global issues. Outside of writing, I enjoy exploring Nigeria’s vibrant cultural scene and mentoring young aspiring journalists.