My country used to be a Portuguese Province. A colony, Moçambique.
When they first stepped on it they called it “Land of the good people”, and it was on this same land where they killed millions of natives. Slaves.
The place I am about to describe is historical. I first hear about during a history class, and when I was around 11 had the opportunity to experience this place. The black hole, I called it.
It was summer, January 2001, when my sister and I got out of the noisy capital city and went with relatives to spend the holidays in a beach city 6 hours away from our town, Inhambane.
It is a very calm town which still has colonial remains in the architecture left behind - the typical brick tiled sloped roofs with the brick chimneys jutting out, the decoration detail of blue and white ceramic tiles around the wide windows with figures of saints or famous sayings, etc.
Their presence could also be noticed further ahead, around 12 km far from the welcoming town. To To the cliff of the Tofinho beach (Praia do Tofinho originally), known as one of the most dangerous beaches in that area.
A Land Rover took us all the way up there. Sand beaten road, wild grass growing on both sides, but when reaching almost the top we could start noticing some concrete structures coming up.
I could see no signs of water during the small trip we took, but as soon as we reached flat, almost even land the view was just fascinating. The infinite orange, pink and purple sky merging with the deep blue of the ferocious Indian Ocean. The sun was going down on my back, but in front of me I had the most perfect picture I ever saw in my life and I even stopped breathing for a while, until I noticed it was not a dream and I was actually there. Moving towards almost the edge as I looked down of the cliff I could see the waves crashing hard on the rocks. On both sides there were few other sets of cliffs.
There was some grass growing mixed with sand and rock and right at the end, on the edge of the imposed cliff I could find a square hole demarcated by four stacks of stone on each corner barely standing. While looking down on this hole I could see water, coming up, and going down again. Down there it led directly to open ocean. The walls of the hole in the rocky cliff were rough and pointed and went throughout the whole length. It was then I recalled my history classes and realized that it was there. Where millions of slaves were punished to death, drowned. All the magic of the place was broke for few instants.
The hole was just big enough for one individual and they would be taken down using a rope and kept until the water level rose.
A monument was kept right in the middle of the cliff in memory to these people. A tall, pyramidal in shape, white structure with a star carved in all four sides.
But, as I was going down the cliff, towards the town, I forgot all this enraging history looking at the beautiful sun setting behind the tall palm trees and wished everyone had the chance of experience that place once in their lives!
When they first stepped on it they called it “Land of the good people”, and it was on this same land where they killed millions of natives. Slaves.
The place I am about to describe is historical. I first hear about during a history class, and when I was around 11 had the opportunity to experience this place. The black hole, I called it.
It was summer, January 2001, when my sister and I got out of the noisy capital city and went with relatives to spend the holidays in a beach city 6 hours away from our town, Inhambane.
It is a very calm town which still has colonial remains in the architecture left behind - the typical brick tiled sloped roofs with the brick chimneys jutting out, the decoration detail of blue and white ceramic tiles around the wide windows with figures of saints or famous sayings, etc.
Their presence could also be noticed further ahead, around 12 km far from the welcoming town. To To the cliff of the Tofinho beach (Praia do Tofinho originally), known as one of the most dangerous beaches in that area.
A Land Rover took us all the way up there. Sand beaten road, wild grass growing on both sides, but when reaching almost the top we could start noticing some concrete structures coming up.
I could see no signs of water during the small trip we took, but as soon as we reached flat, almost even land the view was just fascinating. The infinite orange, pink and purple sky merging with the deep blue of the ferocious Indian Ocean. The sun was going down on my back, but in front of me I had the most perfect picture I ever saw in my life and I even stopped breathing for a while, until I noticed it was not a dream and I was actually there. Moving towards almost the edge as I looked down of the cliff I could see the waves crashing hard on the rocks. On both sides there were few other sets of cliffs.
There was some grass growing mixed with sand and rock and right at the end, on the edge of the imposed cliff I could find a square hole demarcated by four stacks of stone on each corner barely standing. While looking down on this hole I could see water, coming up, and going down again. Down there it led directly to open ocean. The walls of the hole in the rocky cliff were rough and pointed and went throughout the whole length. It was then I recalled my history classes and realized that it was there. Where millions of slaves were punished to death, drowned. All the magic of the place was broke for few instants.
The hole was just big enough for one individual and they would be taken down using a rope and kept until the water level rose.
A monument was kept right in the middle of the cliff in memory to these people. A tall, pyramidal in shape, white structure with a star carved in all four sides.
But, as I was going down the cliff, towards the town, I forgot all this enraging history looking at the beautiful sun setting behind the tall palm trees and wished everyone had the chance of experience that place once in their lives!
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