Monday, August 24th

Yesterday I was over the moon: dissertation was finished, and I was looking forward to learning more Portuguese, driving to Beira, travelling around the country.
Now, a mere 24 hours later, I’m sitting in front of my computer, and have no idea what to think or what to do. I have no words for it, cannot talk about it, cannot place it. So I have tried to write down the events of today.

We were just 2 hours out of Maputo, around half past 6 in the morning, and were making good progress by following a big bus on the roads that are still in good condition. It had rained the night before, so the roads were still damp. All of a sudden, the bus, with us driving some 50 metres behind, started swerving while taking a weak high speed corner. Aquaplaning. The bus driver clearly tried to correct the first swerve, but overcompensated and the bus flipped the other way around, going round two times and snapping an electricity cable before coming to a halt on its side in the area next to the road.
We stopped the car immediately, and when we got out people were already climbing out of the vehicle. We briefly talked to one of the passengers who got out safely (wore seatbelt!), and only then did I realise the real horror of the crash: while flipping around, the bus had hit several people that were walking next to the road, including two children. Halfway between us and the wreckage of the bus, lay a small body on the ground. The other child was under the bus, we were told.

The police arrived 10 minutes after, along with all the inhabitants of the village. We drove off shortly after, as there was not much we could do. I was horrified, was feeling sick, and my legs were trembling.

The crash happened 12 hours ago, as I write this, and I have replayed the accident in my head at least a hundred times over. My euphoria for finishing something as trivial as a dissertation has been scattered by the harsh reality of everyday life in Mozambique.

While I write this down, I still see the bus swerving, the wreckage, the dead body, both villagers and passengers next to the road in shock and crying. The child was 6 years old, I think. I’m not sure whether it was a boy or a girl.

My head is spinning, mind in overdrive. I think I’m still somewhat in shock. The 24th of August is a day I will never forget.

I miss you all.

Luc