One of the best podcast episodes I have ever listened to was episode #7, from October 2017, of O Nome Disso É África, titled “O nome das coisas,” in which my friend Eliana Nzualo talks with Kalaf Epalanga about a multitude of topics. Some time later, I started reading his excellent texts in the magazine Quatro Cinco Um, so when the collection of chronicles Minha Pátria É a Língua Pretuguesa was released, I had no doubt that I wanted to read it.
In addition to the aforementioned texts from Quatro Cinco Um, the book also includes writings from the books Estórias de Amor para Meninos de Cor and O Angolano Que Comprou Lisboa (por Metade do Preço) and from the digital newspaper Rede Angola. The chronicles cover various subjects, and even though the edition doesn't separate them, it's possible to perceive the blocks of texts.
The ones that most caught my attention were those dealing with the culture of Angola, a country about which we know so little on this side of the Atlantic, although we share fundamental similarities, such as the condition of being a former colony of Portugal and having Portuguese as the official language. Epalanga builds this bridge, even demonstrating vast knowledge about what is produced in Brazil in terms of music, cinema, literature, and art in general, which is confirmed right from the title, which borrows the “pretuguês” from Lélia Gonzalez.
Another highlight are the political texts, which can be divided into two genres: first, those that talk about Blackness, being Black in the world, the anti-racist struggle, etc.; second, those that deal with the politics of Angola and the developments of a country with only half a century of political independence. There are also some texts dedicated to the condition of being an African immigrant in Europe, the challenges, the culture shock, among other nuances that only a foreigner is capable of perceiving when venturing to other shores.
The writing is fluid and employs literary devices that only those who master the art of writing can use without seeming forced. For me, reading this book was a perfect marriage between expectation and reality, because the Kalaf Epalanga I read perfectly matched the idea I had formed of the one I heard on the podcast almost a decade ago.