Perhaps everything is as it is meant to be. He was forced to leave a good life in Mozambique and lived to make ends meet in Portugal – but destiny chose this country to give André Carlos Fernandes his love
Retrospecting on our lives is something we all should do,even if is only once in a lifetime. I am 58 – more than half a century – and itis now that I can see with more clarity all the events that went into shapingthe man I am today.
My father was born in Goa but was forced to migrate toMozambique where his paths crossed with that of my mother – a Goan-born – inAcacias, a city in Lourenço Marques (now Maputo). This is the city where I wasborn and brought up, where I was ‘Apache’ the nickname given to me because Isported characteristics similar to those of an Indian and wore a band on myhead. I had a happy childhood. We were financially sound, had a great home,servants, everything… While the world moved to the sound of the Beatles, Iscored goals in football.
It was April 25, 1974, the day that peace was replaced bywar, the day that Portugal granted independence to its African colonies. Toflee the troops, we left everything behind and fled to Portugal in 1976. Wewere penniless; I was 22.
That summer, my sister invited her friend Rosa (she couldhave only the name of a flower) to come spend some days at our house.Apparently Rosa and I had a lot in common – we were born in the same country(although her parents were Portuguese), had acquaintances in common and hadimmigrated forcefully. I surrendered to her quickly and she to me. There isn’tand never was a woman more beautiful than her.
However, my parents refused to accept that I marry a whiteand hers didn’t want her to marry an Indian. Then there was the distance: Ilived in the centre of Portugal and she in the North – a distance of 300kilometres separated us. We wrote love letters – every day of the year – andawaited the other’s reply. We got married on July 21, 1979.
Rosa borrowed the wedding dress from one sister and shoesfrom another. My uncle and best man bought me a suit. I confess that I believethat even on the wedding day, my parents as well as hers held hope that therewouldn’t be a wedding. I didn’t have the money to buy her an engagement ring.But at the time we paid little attention to such detail. What is a ringcompared to the possibility of spending our lives together?
I realised that my mother had in mind another girl shewanted me to marry – clearly a Goan. However I am absolutely certain that Iwould never find another Indian as traditional and passionate about Indianculture as Rosa. She learnt to cook Indian food, learnt to drape a saree whichshe proudly wears for parties, and decorated our house with Indian paintingsand statues.
The dream of having children featured in our immediateplans. For seven years our lives revolved around the desire to have a child.Rosa went into a depression and stopped going out and I, however much I tried,could not bear the frustration of seeing a negative pregnancy test. One day Ibrought home a dog. The dog compelled Rosa to go out. She gradually startedgoing out more, got a job. A year after this miracle, we were blessed withanother one.
Andreia – named after me – was born on April 22, 1986. Sheencapsulated both our cultures. She came to give meaning to our story of lovewhich is now no longer of two persons, but of three.
This year we will complete 34 years of marriage and 35 yearsof unconditional love. It was worth fighting against the odds to have by myside my family - my wife and my daughter.
André lives in Portugal with Rosa, Andreia, and along withfacing the aftermath of recession, he is battling cancer
