Halfway through the concert, we began performing these songs and inviting the crowd to sing along with us. At first, they were a little apprehensive, which we attributed to the fact that the provincial governor, His Excellency Augusto da Silva Tomás, was in attendance. As small numbers of people began singing along, more joined the chorus. Soon we had the entire crowd singing the chorus lines in full voices:

Angola, Angola, oh ki povo sabi
(Angola, Angola, what a beautiful people)

Oh, oh, oh, Angola, mukulu kituwé xilé
(Oh, oh, oh, how beautiful Angola used to be)

Angola na paz é midjor
(Peace in Angola)

It was an amazing feeling to hear thousands of people singing our songs, people from a distant land and of a different culture singing together in one voice.

Immediately after the concert, the governor approached us and personally invited Ramiro and me to a meeting at his palace the next morning. We arrived on time and were brought to the reception room, where we waited with anticipation to learn about the reason for the meeting. After a few minutes of anxiety, Governor Tomás entered the room and we exchanged warm greetings and sat back down on the plush leather couches that adorned the beautiful room. Dispensing with the pleasantries, he got right to the point:

“For you, last night’s concert was a normal event; for me, the entire concert was a high political achievement. You managed to get Cabindans to do something they’d never done before: sing about Angola.”

He went on to explain that some people of Cabinda did not consider themselves Angolans. Thus, getting them to sing songs promoting Angola was unprecedented. Indeed, we were aware of the long political and military struggle waged by many of the native Cabindans to separate the province from Angola, a fact that explains why we were asked to present our passports upon arrival at the airport, a few days earlier. In the end, we were happy that our presence in Cabinda did provide a moment of unity between the people.

As we began the first song, “Angola Na Paz,” the crowd stood frozen in front of us as if they were indifferent to the performance. About the third song (“Angola Kuia”) into the show, the crowd began to dance among themselves, staying close to their affiliated flags. As the performance went on, the divided audience became an unbearable reality, sapping our energy and preventing us from creating a feeling of unity and celebration. I (João) decided that something needed to be done in order to bring them together, but I didn’t know exactly what that would entail.

A few songs later, an old man who appeared to be somewhat drunk and dressed in a ragged uniform began to approach the band, dancing by himself in front of the stage. Catching his eye, I intuitively stepped down from the stage and began walking toward him. I didn’t know what I was about to do, but something told me to trust my intuition. As I approached him, I noticed that both of us were wearing green hats. He had a green straw hat, and I had a large green cloth hat.

I took my hat and placed it on his head and took his hat and wore it. He was so moved by this spontaneous gesture of goodwill that he collapsed in my arms and embraced me. I embraced him in return. We stood there, in front of everyone gathered, drenched in sweat, arm in arm as if we were old buddies who suddenly reconnected after a long successful battle. As we let go of each other and I returned to the stage, the crowd began to move across the aisle. By the next song, no one could tell who was a UNITA or a government supporter. They mixed, mingled, danced, and celebrated with each other until the end of the concert.

As 5:00 p.m. approached, we were requested to end the concert and pack all the equipment, because we had to leave Cubal do Lumbo before sundown. “Quero os Mendes Brothers dentro do autocarro antes das 18:00 horas” (I want the Mendes Brothers inside the bus before 18:00 hours),” said Governor Rangel.

All personnel had to leave the site before nightfall, fearing that there could be an ambush by the UNITA military or civilian supporters. Everyone gathered their belongings and rushed out in tight caravan formation, escorted by armed military SUVs.

The entire trip to Bocoio, Balombo, and Cubal do Lumbo had a major impact on us. It made us realize how music was able to dissolve all political, military, and national divisions, bringing people together at deeper levels than mere written accords. The energy we experienced in Cubal do Lumbo alone proved that music, when infused with love, trust, and unbiased goodwill, can unite total strangers at the deepest levels of our humanity to form a common bond of unity beyond language, ethnicity, and political affiliations. This level of soul agreement is a vibration that harmonizes human emotions toward peaceful coexistence.

When a country is embroiled in conflict, the vibrations of its thought, emotion, and consciousness also become inharmonic and chaotic. In order to achieve peace, these energies have to be reharmonized to the coherent vibration of love. Thus, in order for Angola to achieve lasting peace, it needed to transform the very sound of its consciousness from one of conflict to one of love, goodwill, and harmony.