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Deutsche Welle / José Craveirinha's son.
Zeca Craveirinha, son of José Craveirinha, is creating a foundation in memory of his father in the house where the Mozambican poet spent his last days.
Arriving in Munhuana, Maputo, we found the door of the beautiful two-story house open. At the entrance, we are received by Zeca Craveirinha, son of the greatest Mozambican poet, José Craveirinha, with whom he lived for many years in this house.
After his father’s death in 2003, Zeca moved, but kept the house almost intact.
In the house in Maputo where Craveirinha lived from 1976 to 2003 the dining table is surrounded by photographs and portraits of the poet, and his books and the medal and the diploma of National Hero, awarded to Craveirinha after his death, rest on the table.
Sitting on the leather couch in the living room, decorated with numerous works of art, Zeca Craveirinha shares with us memories of everyday life with his father.
“The most beautiful memory I have of my father is sitting right here in this room. I was teasing him. When he felt provoked, he would pull his cheeks and start talking. Then I would get ready to absorb everything he said,” he recalls.
A ladder behind the sofa leads to the second floor of the house, given to Craveirinha by President Samora Machel. It is here that the visitor enters the intimacy of the poet.
In his last days, Craveirinha spent much time in this room. Beside the closet, a wheelchair indicates days of little movement. In the centre, a single bed is carefully placed.
“He had to perform gymnastics to get into bed because it was all surrounded by books. This is just a small sample of clothes. He was a person who dressed very well. Always a coat, always well pressed. He was extremely elegant,” Zeca says.
Next to the bedroom is the library. A shelf full of books on various subjects is, according to Zeca, the greatest legacy his father left him.
“I did not have that same literary dimension as him, but I remember a conversation in which my father told me, very seriously, ‘I will not leave you any money, I will die as poor as I was born. But you will have a fortune in these books here…’. In fact, with these books, this collection, I am a billionaire,” the poet’s son attests.
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