Weaning Mozambique

At the glamorous main intersection of old Lourenco Marques (now Maputo) the names of the grand cafes are still there in peeling paint: Scala, Continental. Inside, hundreds of poorly dressed, solemn black people sit: not drinking, not eating. Some dozen have before them glasses of muddy-looking milk, the only beverage available. Although signs on the walls blazon pastelaria, the only pastries available are a few buns.

Maputo, capital of the People’s Republic of Mozambique, was once the sparkling Riviera of Africa, with cafes, villas, beaches, fountains, well-tended gardens, avenues, tourists. After 13 years of Marxist government and 11 years of civil war, it is now a picture of desolation and decay.

RG

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Richard Grenier

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At the glamorous main intersection of old Lourenco Marques (now Maputo) the names of the grand cafes are still there in peeling paint: Scala, Continental. Inside, hundreds of poorly dressed, solemn black people sit: not drinking, not eating. Some dozen have before them glasses of muddy-looking milk, the only beverage available. Although signs on the walls blazon pastelaria, the only pastries available are a few buns.

Maputo, capital of the People’s Republic of Mozambique, was once the sparkling Riviera of Africa, with cafes, villas, beaches, fountains, well-tended gardens, avenues, tourists. After 13 years of Marxist government and 11 years of civil war, it is now a picture of desolation and decay.