Angola, the African Dream. <br /> <br /> <br />A box of photos, black & white and amber, under the old woman’s <br />bed, tell of young faces and success. Cars drive up and down <br />an avenue called Liberty. Angola, even the most humble state <br />functionary had a black servant. And the white people were deaf <br />to the dark voices of independence. <br />The Portuguese settlers had been promised a land of plenty, and <br />the local people would be their willing serfs. Foreign legion soldiers <br />helped them flee the wrath of the exploited. Back in Portugal again, <br />dipping their hands in manual work, the African dream was over. <br /> Photos never tell a story it’s a blank canvas made up of shadows <br />and the unspoken. Memories will be sweet and often untrue. <br />People who had to return back to poverty, will insist they brought <br />civilization to Angola, especially now that the avenue of Liberty, <br />in Luanda, is potholed.<br /><br />oskar hansen<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/angola-the-african-dream/
