There are many forms of motivation. There are many ways of doing more. They are not always clear to us. They are not always clear to those around us. I have spoken about this before and I believe it is never too much to revisit it, at least from the perspective I have always defended. I listen to my intuition. I always have. Today, even more. Tomorrow, certainly even more still. It is something inexplicable. It comes from within. It makes sense. And it reveals itself through small great “things”. In different matters. In decisions. In feelings. In beliefs. Intuition is the ultimate catalyst for motivation. Intuitive motivation is something powerful. Overwhelming. Inexplicably valuable. It adds value and is unmistakably true. Throughout my life I have felt that kind of emotion, value and faith in both small and great situations. From an overwhelming romantic passion that everyone advises me not to pursue, but which, deep down, I know to be true, real and necessary to my existence; to an immense desire to seek a particular geographical and existential direction; through difficult professional, personal or relational decisions; decisions with consequences; easy decisions; difficult decisions. An endless list of defining moments that reveal themselves to have been right or wrong as time goes by. For me, my intuition motivates me. This chapter is about how, at times, I convince myself.

I have a bloody awful temperament when it comes to values, character, honour, commitment and responsibility. I cannot swallow my pride. I rode horses for many years in the Ribatejo, in Fonte Boa, at the National Stud and the Portuguese Zootechnical Station. There, men were defined by their word, backbone and integrity. I could spend hours talking about it if necessary. The examples are extraordinary. Stories that would seem unbelievable nowadays to anyone who does not know what the word sacrifice truly means. I learnt a great deal. I value it immensely. But it also spoiled me for the business world, where one is expected to swallow one’s pride, bend one’s back, accept childishness, lack of humility, the prominence of mediocre people, stupidity, corruption, egos and super-egos, among many other things. If it were not for my bloody awful temperament, I would probably already be rich or even a millionaire. If it were not for my bloody awful temperament, I do not know whether I would still be here. If it were not for this way of being and facing life, I do not know how, or with whom, I would be standing at this very moment. Because the truth is simple: in my life, anything that is unethical, anything that is dishonest, anything that lacks integrity, anything that is corrupt, anything built on falsehoods or shortcuts to success has nothing to do with me. Do not count on me. I simply cannot do it. I carry that old-fashioned upbringing, the classical education of Great Men. I rode horses under Master Pedro Baptista. If there was a single straw in a horse’s mane, a speck of dirt, a piece of tack out of place or not properly cleaned, a functional ornament poorly fitted, a lapse in manners when asking permission to enter the arena, whatever it was, on that day I would no longer be allowed to ride. It was harsh. Consequential. Everything had to be and remain in accordance with the Art of Portuguese Classical Horsemanship. And when it was not, public humiliation was the punishment. Traumatic, yes; formative, without question. And that shaped my path throughout those years and for the rest of my life. There were many occasions throughout my journey when I refused to bend, give in or accept someone else’s poor conduct. At secondary school, at university, at the Students’ Union, at the Faro Municipal Theatre, in Mozambique, at B16. Many. And if it were today, I would do exactly the same. I am proud of who I am. But I pay a high price for it. I do not tolerate glass houses. I do not tolerate schemes. I dislike corporate domino effects. And for that reason I lose out a great deal. But this is who I am. For better or for worse. This temperament of mine is a flaw in some situations, but it has helped me sleep peacefully at night. And I am proud of it. Very proud. It is this that I seek to pass on to my children. It is this that I will continue to pass on in their future.

At the beginning of this manuscript, I briefly mentioned part of my experience in Mozambique. I never explored it in depth. This is not the place. Those four years alone could fill another book, perhaps an even bigger one than this. But the truth is that that experience has accompanied me every single day. It is overwhelming. Ever-present. Powerful. Inexplicable. Complex. Ambiguous. Uncertain. Yet it makes sense. And it makes sense because, for the first time in my professional life, I built something bigger than myself. I dreamed, envisioned and implemented a project greater than my own existence. It was so immense that I could never forget it. It was impossible.

In 2012, when I arrived in Mozambique, I immediately felt the urge to build something. That year I needed time to adapt, to cultivate, to blend in, to integrate, to decolonise myself from my own essence. And I did not achieve it in a single year. It took three. Three years, in different professional roles, after countless personal experiences, after many journeys, many friends and a wealth of lived experience, before I began to understand what it truly means to be Mozambican. And the truth is that my blood changed colour. I have said it many times before. I never tire of saying it. My blood changed colour. An expression that defines the truth and the reality of my passion for Mozambique, for Africa, for its people, customs, traditions and ways of living. So different from what we have in Europe. So distinct from the place and the way of life we inhabit. In 2012 I wanted to build, but it was only in 2015 that I knew how. And it was in 2015, in January, that I sat down with my wife and we defined the path for what became a very long year. In January 2015 I made phone calls, sent emails and met with several people. It was Luís Carvalho who believed in the Reconstruir Moçambique project, just as we did. After Luís, everything happened in rapid succession. From January to March I established contacts, signed agreements and contracts, produced content, researched and studied locations, worked through budgets, projected scenarios and leveraged a project to rebuild a nursery school worth half a million euros. Just Rute and me. Alone. In the space of three months. Thirty-two partnerships that, in themselves, made possible a reconstruction that changed our lives forever. Then, from April to July, we rebuilt the nursery school project from the ground up. The Escolinha de Inhagóia underwent demolition, construction, reconstruction, development, beautification, landscaping, decoration and attention to detail that we had never imagined would be possible. We worked, quite literally, from 6.00 a.m. until 10.00 p.m. Every single day. Saturdays and Sundays included. It was a mission unlike any other. It remained with us forever in our minds, our spirit and our hearts. When we inaugurated the school, after three months apart, the children repaid every sacrifice, every hour of work, every tear and every drop of sweat with their smiles and eyes filled with wonder. It was incredible. Unbelievable. Surreal, even. And this project, so that we do not spend much longer on it here, became etched into our blood. It is bigger than us. Bigger than you. Bigger than any place, person or institution in the developed world. That third-world country needs love, opportunities and care that nobody here truly understands, knows or even wants to know about. And that hurts. We are here, far away, without understanding what is happening there, in that place… where they need us so very much.

And while B16 was forging its own path, amidst all the projects we produced and delivered, new relationships, conversations and opportunities emerged where, beyond work itself, new subjects, ideas and causes naturally arose. Whenever I spoke to anyone about the Reconstruir Moçambique project, my eyes lit up. I think they still do… Whenever I explained what it was, how it had been done and in what way, whoever was listening wanted to become involved, to collaborate, to help. Every single person I spoke to wanted me to build that path again. Perhaps I was the one who resisted the idea the most. For many reasons. Because of my daughter, because of my wife, because of my company. Because living in Africa is not easy. Because making such an abrupt change requires calm, reflection and careful thought. It is not simple. It may be part of who we are and of our intuition, our desire or our sense of mission, but back then I had far less to lose than I do today. That is the truth.

To give just one example, precisely fifteen days before the date on which I am writing this text, I was admitted to the District Hospital of Faro and underwent emergency surgery for severe peritonitis caused by a perforated acute appendicitis. Needless to say, if this had happened in Marracuene, where we lived at the time, I would no longer be here writing these words. I would never have had the time to reach a hospital capable of receiving me and treating me with the urgency and excellence with which I was cared for here, in my own hometown, where I grew up and became the man I am today. This is merely one example among thousands that I could share with anyone interested in learning more. One example from a real story, with very real consequences.

But whenever I spoke to João Guerra about Reconstruir Moçambique, he showed an interest, an enthusiasm and an identification with the project unlike almost anything I had experienced since its inception. Time passed. Technology advanced. Trends changed. And if, back in 2015, I had had João Guerra by my side documenting and communicating the project every single day on social media, then certainly – I repeat, certainly – I would not be where I am today. Our path would have been different. We would have reached the destination that 2015 denied us because of the less fortunate side of everything that happened that year, particularly the endless setbacks surrounding the editing and production of the video content, which never reached the outcome we had hoped for. If João Guerra had been there with us, the Viking would have torn the roof off the place. He would have created deeply emotional content, informed, communicated, motivated, united and brought together an endless community of followers and supporters. He would have opened up countless new opportunities and, honestly, I believe the project would never have ended there.

So it was in 2019 that, during our spare moments, I began explaining to João Guerra how we had built the project. I showed him the raw footage we had filmed. I showed him photographs, interviews, documents and real memories. I showed him the clothes I had worn while carrying out the construction work. I showed him the list of partners. The website, which is still online today. I told him about our intentions. Our motivations. And João began to feel that he too was part of the project and wanted to re-edit the content. To bring the social media channels back to life. To start posting again and see what kind of response we might receive by reviving that idea. And, as João produced new videos with a different style of music, rhythm and pacing, we began publishing them and investing small amounts of money to give those short videos and pieces of content a modest promotional boost as they came off the B16 editing and production line.

I must confess that I never imagined the response. That it would be so successful. That so many people would like it, share it and comment on it. I never imagined that Reconstruir Moçambique would still touch so many people. Four years had passed since 2015. But the response caught us completely by surprise and made us want more. We spoke about everything that was happening. We projected ideas for the future. And, before we even realised it, we had already committed ourselves to a mission for 2020 unlike anything we had ever undertaken before.

João Guerra is the ideal person for this project. If it ever happens again, regardless of the circumstances, I will invite him to be part of it once more. I believe the motivation, love, devotion and conviction he demonstrated are more than enough reasons for him to be the right person for this. But we do not know what the future has in store for us. We truly do not. The only thing I know is that João was, just like us, genuinely passionate about the idea of helping those who truly need it.

In 2019, we brought Reconstruir Moçambique back to life on social media:

Facebook
Youtube
Website

And, in conversations with Ricardo Flôxo, who was also collaborating with B16 that year, we came to the conclusion that we needed to produce something that reflected our mindset. We were once again deeply involved, fully committed and already making significant progress with our contacts. And the love returned. All because of our daughter Olívia and our desire for her to one day feel proud of who we are and what we do. She gave us strength.

The attention to detail, the care, the precision. João and Ricardo devoted themselves to this project heart and soul. I genuinely believe that all of us sincerely thought that, the following year, we would be back in Africa working once again on Reconstruir Moçambique; changing lives; decorating places of learning; bringing together sponsors, followers, influencers, advocates and promoters. Each of us played our part. We gave ourselves completely. And I believed again in a way I had not done for a very long time. I truly felt that the structure we had already built at B16 would enable us to leverage a set of unique opportunities. This meticulous, detailed, thoughtful and rigorous work was, without question, something magical. Inexplicable. Moving. Contagious.

At the end of 2019, we produced this video, which means so much to us and moves us so deeply:

Only those who were there know.
Only those who worked there feel it.
Only those who lived it understand.
Only those who experienced it truly know.
Only those who were touched by it can fully comprehend.

2019 ended with love, passion, unity and many doubts about the road ahead. Even today, I still feel that this is my life’s purpose. That Mozambican schools would welcome my commitment. That the developing world needs the connection and support of the developed world. That my friends and family would gladly associate themselves with a cause like this. And when I say friends and family, I can scarcely imagine the opportunities that social media and the internet can create for someone like me, who runs a communications agency with exceptional professionals capable of catapulting a project like this onto a global stage. Social media. Crowdfunding. Online auctions… And I have contacts. I know people. And I know that every single one of us, without exception, if invited to take part in or contribute to a cause like this, would not hesitate, provided we trusted the person making the request.

I went a very long time without smoking joints.

At the end of 2019, during an afternoon at work, I smoked again. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I looked around the objects in the office. I sketched out a vision for the future. Without ChatGPT, I put together a marketing plan in a single afternoon. And I built a dream in visual form. I got home very late. And this was the result:

In the centre – looking at the scene – our daughter Olívia;
Beside her, me, Rute and João Guerra;
Behind us, a working team;
To our left, the scientist, the detective and the businessman;
Behind us, the magician;
In front of us, the Mozambican children;
Behind them, the team of partners, sponsors, investors and believers in a better world.
The wise king, the lion, the pirate, the gnome, Pieter, the tractor driver and even Father Christmas himself.
In the distance, the Shogun… certain that the path is the right one.

The high was good.
The trip was too.
But there is some truth within that vision.
And that is how we entered 2020… With an unshakeable conviction.

In the project that was BIGGER than life.

If only I had known.
If only we had known.
What the following year was about to bring.

…