Inadelso Cossa visits his grandparents' village in Mozambique, where he grew up during the civil war. Back then, his grandmother kept the war out of sight from him. Now the film shines a careful light into the darkness of the past.

The Nights Still Smell of Gunpowder

Mozambique gained independence from Portugal in 1975, following a bloody struggle that lasted more than a decade. In three acts (plus a poetic prologue and epilogue), some of those who lived through it tell their story about the struggle for independence. A former political prisoner returns to the building named Villa Algarve, where he was tortured—though dilapidated now, it is still maintained as a monument to what took place. We also get to hear the other side of the story, as told by the daughter of an agent of the secret police who was murdered before her eyes following the fall of the Portuguese dictatorship. This striking mix of archive footage, shots of present day and the pervasive soundtrack give us the feeling that past and present are inextricably linked. The oral testimonies bear witness to a multifaceted colonial trauma, and the wounds are still fresh.