The Rise of Resilience: The Ngoyan Spirit Within Me

Prologue: The Power of Memory

From as far back as I can remember, the memory of my homeland has lived within me, as if the Ngoyan spirit were woven into my very being. The past isn’t just a distant recollection; it’s a deep-rooted force that nourishes me, constantly reminding me where I come from and strengthening my spirit each day.

I recall the lands of Kissanga Kungo (Cela Velha), the sunny days in Waku Kungo—formerly Santa Comba—where I grew up among people with immense hearts, working and smiling with all their soul. These memories are not just fragments of a bygone time; they’re a living force that pulses within me, a constant calling that never leaves. Every moment, I feel the presence of each person, every story that formed the landscape of my childhood.

But along with these cherished memories, something else has lingered, a shadow that revealed itself in my childhood dreams. A dark figure, a monstrous creature, would appear in my sleep, breathing a deadly cloud of DDT powder over me. The smell and taste of that powder were so real, they seemed to escape the realm of dreams, bringing a certainty of my end. And yet, every morning, I awoke, surprised and grateful to still be alive.

Thus begins my story—a journey where memory’s power and the strength of the Ngoyan spirit merged to transform fear into resilience.

Chapter One: Childhood Shadows

For many, childhood is a place of refuge and innocence. But for me, it also held a shadow, a lurking threat that emerged in the quiet of night when deep sleep turned into a nightmare. I remember the moments vividly, when the monster would appear—a grotesque creature, dark and menacing, looming over me like an impending storm.

This monster, with its hideous form and empty eyes, exuded a relentless power—a dense cloud of DDT powder, the same powder I knew well, sold by the gram in my father’s store. For many of our customers, DDT was a weapon against pests in their cubatas and surroundings. But in my dream, it became a lethal weapon, a poison that could steal my breath and extinguish my existence. Familiar as it was, the powder took on a terrifying role in the darkness of my nightmares.

With each encounter, I could feel the harsh smell and choking texture of the powder filling my lungs, contaminating the air around me. Inside, everything seemed to stop—my heartbeat, my breath, even time itself. It was as if each particle of that powder had the power to erase the life within me.

Upon waking, my heart would race, beating fiercely, as if to remind me I was indeed alive. And every morning, I felt a strange mix of relief and disbelief, realizing I had survived yet again. It was as if the Ngoyan spirit was already there, silently reminding me that, despite the fear, I held an inner strength that would guide me beyond the shadows.

These nightmares continued for many years, almost becoming part of who I was—a constant reminder of danger and vulnerability. And yet, somewhere deep in my soul, something strengthened each time I awoke, a silent resilience that grew with the years.

Chapter Two: The Rise of Resilience

As the years went by, something began to change within me. The nightmares still came, persistent as a bitter reminder, but each time I awoke, I felt something new. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but every morning after the nightmare, I felt a bit stronger, a bit more prepared. Something inside me seemed to be feeding off that darkness, strangely transforming fear into strength.

The influence of the Ngoyan spirit, which had always been silently present in my memories, began to reveal itself. It was as though, by reliving those nights of terror, I was absorbing the strength of each person I knew in Waku Kungo, each story of resilience, each act of courage. I felt that, even without realizing it, I was becoming an extension of this spirit, absorbing its essence and transforming it into a kind of shield against whatever threatened me.

Throughout my life, there were many moments when this spirit proved essential. In each challenge, each obstacle, the memory of my ancestors, of the workers, friends, and the silent struggles of a people who would not be easily defeated, gave me a type of strength that went beyond the physical. I knew it was an inherited strength, a force that renewed itself with each new day.

I recall specific moments, when it felt almost impossible to continue, when fear or doubt emerged like shadows. In those moments, the Ngoyan spirit would surface, like a voice urging me to persist, to face whatever came my way. And it was always in those moments of greatest challenge that I remembered the mornings after the nightmare, when daylight proved I had survived. Each dawn brought a sense that the strength within me was like an invisible armor.

Yet, the full transformation was still to come. I sensed, on some deep level, that the nightmares had a purpose, that this shadow was there to teach me something essential. Until now, I had learned to resist, to survive. But I still needed to learn to conquer, to turn fear into a lasting power.

This latent strength, built up over years, paved the way for the final confrontation with the monster. What had once terrified me now began to seem less menacing, as if the Ngoyan spirit within me knew the day was coming to turn the shadows into light.

Chapter Three: The Final Confrontation

On the night I turned 32, the nightmare returned—but this time, something was different. I sensed the presence of the monster before I even saw it, like a storm brewing on the horizon. It loomed closer, vast and dark, with that empty gaze that had paralyzed me so many times before. But that night, as it hovered over me, I felt something inside me was ready, something I hadn’t felt in the past encounters.

The monster rose, preparing to unleash its deadly cloud of DDT powder as it had so many times before. But before it could act, an uncontrollable force surged within me, a force without limits. In that moment, I remembered every morning I’d awoken, every time I had survived and grown stronger, and I knew that tonight would be different. I was ready.

With an overwhelming rush, I felt my body grow, expand. With each breath, I became larger, stronger, as if the Ngoyan spirit itself was flowing through my veins, amplifying every fiber of my being. It was an overpowering sensation—I was absorbing all the pain, all the fear, all the DDT the monster had spewed over me throughout the years. And now, that same poison transformed into power.

Without hesitation, I faced the monster, looking into its hollow eyes with a resolve I’d never imagined. I raised my hand, and with a force that felt rooted in the soil of Angola itself, I began to spray that DDT back at it. I unleashed it in a continuous wave, a fury that had been contained for years, finally let loose. The monster recoiled, twisting, fighting, but with each passing second, I grew stronger as it weakened.

Then, in one final, silent scream, the monster began to dissolve, reduced to a fine dust that dispersed into the air. It was over—the end of a long battle I hadn’t even known I was destined to win. With the monster defeated, I awoke, but this time, I felt free. I had overcome the nightmare, freed from the shadows, now fully in control of my own destiny.

That morning, the air felt lighter, the light brighter. I knew that I would never have that nightmare again. I had transformed fear into an unshakable strength that would stay with me for the rest of my life.

Epilogue: A Legacy of Strength

The end of that nightmare was more than the defeat of a monster. It was a rebirth, a liberation. From that night onward, I felt that something had profoundly shifted within me. The fear, once a constant shadow, had transformed into a distant memory, a testament to the strength I had earned.

I realized that this strength, this resilience, wasn’t just mine—it came from generations past, from the land where I was born, and from the spirit of the Ngoyans that had always been with me. These people, with their silent courage and unbreakable determination, taught me that true strength is not the absence of fear, but the capacity to face it, to turn it into something greater, something that lifts us up. And this strength lives within me, in my steps, my choices, and everything I do.

Today, as I look back, I don’t just see the challenges I overcame but the legacy I carry—a legacy of courage, resilience, and a deep connection to the roots that shaped me. This legacy isn’t mine alone; it belongs to everyone who, like me, was born in Kissanga Kungo, grew up in Waku Kungo, and carries the spirit of Angola in their heart.

That nightmare taught me a profound lesson: even the darkest experiences can become sources of strength, and it is possible to rise from the shadows with an even brighter light. This is the story I carry with me, a story of overcoming and identity, a tribute to all who came before me and to those who will come after.

And so, I move forward, guided by the Ngoyan spirit, knowing that no matter where life may lead, I will always carry within me the strength and wisdom of a land and a people who taught me to turn fear into courage and darkness into light.

THE END