There is a memory of a river—long and deep—remote and isolated but full of the things it is meant to carry—in a place ever swallowed by...

Mistaela Correia was born in 1954 in Gorongosa. When he was 12 years old his grandfather died. As was customary, his family made a...

In the village, the chore always comes, be it child or not, with the silhouette of a woman or girl for this one, no doubt—though...

The village was nestled in the rainforest, over 15 miles from the main, red-dirt road that slithered the country of Liberia from north to...

It was 1995 and a very long ride of swells on a dhow to get to the Island of Ibo, with its bluest waters and pink coral, its whitest...

The rains would come heavy each afternoon in this hot tropical land—mostly—without fail. And those who had—even just a bit more than the...

It was a blanket of mystic and awe along the River Buzi— its water embracing precariously those who travel, as me, along its deepness—and...

Chomba Chakala Chakulumamwanyoka was born of the Makonde in Miula in the year when they built the shops in Namawa village. An elder—Ndona...

It was July 1992 when Samsão Damangani sat down with me in the urban sprawl of Maputo City. He was 78 at the time, an old man—he...

Under the shade of tall, swaying coconut trees in the far away town of Buzi in Sofala, in December 1994, a woman—an elder—Macore...

To the side of my door, he would come. His young face gnarled with piercing eyes and burned out skin, that's what, today, floats to the...

The boy walked the streets—cobblestone, dirt, paved. With long back, strong feet, determined eyes and quick wit, he walked the streets of...

They call it musiro in Kimwani. It's a piece of wood from the xumbuti tree—ground against a sand-like stone using a bit of water creating...

In the spirit of tradition, the men cleared the farmer's field, made offerings to those who had come before. The women—lined up, wrapped...

They used to go early in the morning to the beach. They used ndala—prawns—as bait for fishing off the coast, casting the line and hook...

They keep the bzinyanga in a sack on the veranda of Phoinde Vinte's house in the village of Mpadwe in the Province of Tete. It's much...

It was January 1994. The time of the kanyi had just begun, bringing in the New Year as it does each year—a time when the people talk to...

It was a day in the village of Mecoripo—a village in the district of Namuno in Mozambique's southwest region of Cabo Delgado—an ordinary...

In 1992 the road from the city of Tete to the town of Chitima—located in Cabora Bassa district (as previously known under colonial times)...

They entered into the circle in the same way as the Ndhokodo group—in groups of two. But this time there was a man on the drums, two...

It was the eighth time she had passed by my red, earthen home, her bucket filled with that discolored water which innocently flowed...

Everyday the wind whistles through the lives of children and elders who walk the city streets of Maputo. And on this one day, not long...

Each day, he would show up at our office—optimistically tucked away in a corner of Mozambique's capital, Maputo. We invited him to dream,...

It was 1999 when we arrived on the day—our first day—with dreams of plenty and hearts full open. The wood carver was there—an old man who...