Manoel and Ntundo sell shells on the beaches of Pemba, northern Mozambique. Early in the morning they travel along the seashore in search of their loot. They choose the best pieces and clean them. They then wait for the arrival of tourists and white immigrants who work in the many NGOs and international agencies deployed in the area. They are your main buyers.
They say they are nineteen years old, and that they are cousins. It’s hard to get a smile out of them. Their faces convey hardness and their eyes convey pain. Their families had to flee their town, Mocimboa da Praia, driven by the attacks of the terrorist group that devastated the region. There they lived from fishing. The parents went out to sea in their boats. The mothers sold the fish in the market. They helped with minor tasks after school.
But the terrorists arrived. They took the town. They raised the flag of the Islamic State. And they forced all its inhabitants to swear loyalty to it. At first the situation did not change much. People went on with their lives. It was only noticeable that the Mozambican Army soldiers who resided in the area had been replaced by the jihadists. Now they were the ones who appeared in the markets and streets of the city. Soon things changed. The imposed sharia, Islamic law. She began to annoy all those who did not follow her. Schools were closed and replaced by madrasas. Life became unlivable and dangerous. A few weeks later, soldiers launched an operation and recaptured the town. They accused many of being collaborators and shot them. Therefore, the majority of the population fled as soon as they could.
They walked for nights to avoid being located. During the day they hid. Fatigued and hungry they arrived at Pemba, the capital of the province. They hoped to rebuild their lives there. Return to your daily activities. But nothing could be further from the truth.
Now, Manoel and Ntundo’s families share a couple of rooms on the outskirts of Pemba in a half-built house. Without windows, without doors and with unplastered walls. If it rains, the temporary roof leaks. They don’t go to school. His parents don’t have money to pay tuition. They have lost their boats and their livelihood. They do temporary jobs with which they can barely support the family. The help they receive from NGOs is scarce. For this reason, the two cousins scour the sand in search of treasures that will allow them to contribute something to the meager family economy.
Manoel and Ntundo dream of getting enough money to pay school fees next year, buy the uniform and books. They say it seriously. With a maturity that is not typical of a child. They go about their business. They haggle over prices. They do not give up their efforts until the last white man disappears from the beach heading to the restaurants or bars where they can finish the day. They are good negotiators. But they will hardly achieve their goal.
In the image above, Manoel and Ntundo offer their shells on the beaches of Pemba (Mozambique). Photography: Chema Caballero
