MidReal Story
Echoes of the Sacred Land
Scenario: paz e progresso da tribo são ameaçadas com a chegada do megaprojeto que não preserva o meu ambiente da tribo upepo em Cabo Delgado
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Nia Upepo
tribal leader, siblings with Kofi and Zuri, tall with braided hair, determined and protective.
Kofi Upepo
warrior of the tribe, brother to Nia and Zuri, muscular with tribal tattoos, brave and loyal.
Zuri Upepo
healer of the tribe, sister to Nia and Kofi, petite with gentle eyes, wise and empathetic.
The Upepo tribe had lived in the forest for centuries, and we had always lived in harmony with nature.
We were a peaceful tribe, and we had no need for the modern amenities that the city dwellers had.
We had no need for electricity because our ancestors provided us with firewood to cook our meals.
We had no need for running water because the rivers and streams in the forest provided us with clean water to drink.
We had no need for air conditioning because the trees in the forest provided us with shade from the scorching sun.
We were happy living in our simple way of life, and we never wanted anything more.
But all that changed when we discovered that a megaproject was going to be built on our sacred lands.
The Upepo tribe was a small tribe, and we did not have much land to call our own.
Our ancestors had given us a small piece of land in the forest, and we had always lived there in peace.
I heard the conversation from my hiding place in the trees, and I listened as the developers spoke to the local officials.
The developers had come to our tribe a few days ago, and they had tried to convince us to sell our land to them.
They had told us that they were going to build a school and a hospital on the land, and that it was going to benefit the whole community.
We had refused to sell our land, and the developers had left in a huff.
But now, I listened as they spoke to the local officials in a language that I had learned when I was away from the tribe.
I was tall and muscular with tribal tattoos adorning my arms and chest.
My hair was long and braided, and I wore a skirt made of leaves and a necklace made of bones around my neck.
I was the leader of the Upepo tribe, and I was fiercely protective of my people.
I listened as the developers spoke to the officials in hushed tones, and I felt a sense of dread wash over me.
“We are going to build a megaproject here, right in the heart of Cabo Delgado,” one of the developers said.
“And we are going to need this land for it.”
“But this is sacred land,” one of the officials protested.
“There are people living here.This will displace them.”
“I understand your concerns,” the developer replied.
“But you have to see the bigger picture.This project is going to benefit the whole country.”
And what about those people who live here?”
the official asked.
“Are you just going to throw them out on the street?”
“Of course not,” the developer said with a smile.
“We are going to relocate them.”
“And where are you going to relocate them?”
the official asked.
“Not far from here,” the developer replied.
“The government has built some housing for them already.”
“And how do you know that these people are just going to pack up and leave?”
the official asked.
“If they don’t leave, we will make them leave,” the developer replied with a sinister smile.
“We have ways of dealing with people like them.”
The conversation continued for a while longer, and I listened as the developers spoke about their plans for the megaproject.
They were going to build roads and highways, factories and warehouses, offices and schools, and everything in between.
They were going to create thousands of jobs, and they were going to bring in millions of dollars for the local economy.
It all sounded wonderful, but I knew that it was all a lie.
The developers did not care about the local economy or the local people.
They only cared about making money, and they were willing to do whatever it took to get what they wanted.
I listened as the developers spoke about us, about my tribe, and I felt my anger rising in me.
They called us savages, animals, obstacles that needed to be removed from their path.
But we were not obstacles.
We were human beings, just like them, with feelings and thoughts of our own.
And we would not allow them to destroy our sacred lands, not now, not ever.
After listening to their conversation, I decided that I had to do something.
I knew that I could not trust the local officials to represent our best interests.
They would sell their own mothers if it meant that they could make some money.
I needed to find out more about these developers, about their plans for our lands, so that I could better prepare my people for what was to come.
As I made my way back to my hut, I heard the developers talking about an exploration trip that they were going to take into the forest.
They wanted to see for themselves what they were dealing with, so that they could make better decisions about how to proceed.
I knew that this was my chance to find out more about them, so I hurried back to my hut and grabbed my bow.
I did not know what I would find in the forest, but I had a sense of foreboding that told me that it was not going to be good.
I had spent most of my life in this forest, and I knew it like the back of my hand.
I knew where to find food and water, where to hide from enemies, and where to find shelter when it rained.
I also knew how to move through the forest without making a sound, like a shadow in the night.
That was how I was able to follow Mr.
Jacobs and his team without being detected.
As I followed them, an overwhelming sense of dread washed over me.
It felt like the forest itself was warning me about the danger that lay ahead, but our ancestors were silent.
We had always been able to communicate with our ancestors, to ask for their guidance when we needed it.
But now, when we needed them the most, they were nowhere to be found.
I did not know why this was happening, but I did not have time to dwell on it either.
I needed to find out what these developers were up to before it was too late, so I pressed on.
As I moved through the undergrowth, I saw Mr.
Jacobs and his team disappearing into a clearing up ahead.
I waited until they were gone before I made my way towards the clearing myself.
When I got there, I saw them standing in a circle, looking at something on the ground.
I crouched down behind a bush and watched as they hurriedly stashed away some maps and blueprints into their bags.
I waited until they were gone before I emerged from my hiding place.
I made my way towards the spot where they had been standing, and I saw that they had left behind a pile of papers on the ground.
I picked them up and looked at them, and my eyes widened in shock.
The papers were filled with maps and blueprints that detailed the developers’ plans for our lands.
They were going to cut down the Baobab trees that marked our ancestors’ graves and clear the land to make way for a highway.
They were going to dam the river that was the lifeblood of our tribe and build a hydroelectric power plant to generate electricity.
They were going to poison the streams and rivers with toxic waste and industrial runoff, so that nothing would ever grow there again.
They were going to wipe out everything, and everyone, in their path.
As I looked at the papers in my hands, I knew that we were facing an existential threat, and I knew that we had to do something about it.
But what could we do?
We were a small tribe, with no weapons or technology to fight back against the developers.
We were no match for them in a head-on battle, and we would surely be defeated.
But if we did nothing, we would surely lose everything that we held dear.
I stood in shock as I read through the papers that Mr.
They detailed the developers’ plans for our lands in Cabo Delgado – our sacred lands, the heart of our tribe.
It was all there, in black and white.
They were going to cut down the Baobab trees that marked our ancestors’ graves and clear the land to make way for a highway that would run right through the heart of our territory.
They were going to dam the river that was the lifeblood of our tribe and build a hydroelectric power plant to generate electricity for the cities.
They were going to poison the streams and rivers with toxic waste and industrial runoff, so that nothing would ever grow there again.
And they were going to build a resort town on the coast where tourists could come to relax and have fun, and spend money on things that they did not need.
All of this, and more.
If these papers were to be believed, then the developers’ greed knew no bounds.
They wanted it all, and they would stop at nothing to get it.
As I read through the papers, I felt sick to my stomach.
It was not just the physical destruction of our lands that they were planning – although that was bad enough.
The Baobab trees that they wanted to cut down were more than just vegetation to us.
They were living testaments to our origins, each one a guardian of a different chapter in our tribe’s story.
The forest was where we had always lived, and it was where we intended to die.
It was home to us, and we loved it dearly.
To see it razed to the ground like this – for money! – was a crime against nature itself.
But it was not just nature that was at stake here, either.
Our history and culture were at stake as well.
Our ancestors were buried in those Baobab trees, their bodies interred within the trunks when they died so that their spirits could watch over us for all eternity.
If those trees were cut down, then their spirits would be lost forever, and we would be cut off from them – from our own past.
The thought of that was unbearable, and I knew that we had to do something about it.
But what?
We were a small tribe, with no weapons or technology to fight back against the developers.
How could we possibly hope to defeat them?
Perhaps if I read on…
I looked at the papers in my hands and sighed heavily.
I could not believe that this was happening, that things had come to this, that we had no choice but to fight to protect what was rightfully ours in the first place.
For generations, the forest had stood as a silent witness to our existence, watching over us from the moment that we first set foot on its soil all those years ago.
It had seen us grow and change, adapt and evolve, and it had seen us overcome countless challenges and obstacles along the way.
And now, when we needed it the most, it called upon us to defend it against those who sought to destroy it, and us, in one fell swoop.
I looked at the papers in my hands one more time before I sighed heavily and resealed them in their makeshift container, determined to share what I had learned with my people so that we could decide what to do next.
