From 2016 to 2019, B16 built strong, strategic, lasting and multi-year partnerships. We focused on making the most of our relationships based on loyalty, trust, seriousness, honesty, commitment and dedication. Clients entrusted us with increasingly complex and innovative challenges. There was a transition in growth resulting from the outcomes of all the work we had been developing. The year 2020 brought with it unparalleled contractual stability. I started that year with the first break even forecast in B16’s history. That had never happened before. It had always been a “tightrope” over a precipice. The “tightrope” of being an entrepreneur, with the learning curve growing year after year. It was the first year in which there was a “certainty” that we would make a profit, without even taking into account all the work that might come our way. One more video, one more website, one more social media campaign. Grain by grain, it was going to be the company’s best year ever. The Clients were established. The projects decided. It was simply a matter of working, and everything would become history.

At the beginning of that year, João and I were “Tico and Teco”. Wherever one went, the other went too. We were One. We made a whole set of things happen simultaneously. It was powerful. I miss that chemistry I had with him. A lot. I have already spoken about João Guerra. I have already written about him. João is sweetness in the body of a giant. He is a Ragnar Lothbrok with a heart of gold. He is a resourceful ferret wrapped in the friendliness of a Marist schoolboy. Working with João is a pleasure. And the two of us worked well together. And with other people. And I realised that João was focused and devoted to the B16 cause. He felt the company. We listened to Plutónio wherever we went, singing the songs, humming the melodies, replicating the rhythms wherever we happened to be. “Prá parede já!” He knows it.

We did countless jobs for various Clients at the beginning of that year. Several events. Several activations. Several compilations. A lot of action, movement and coordination between teams. Chocolate Fair in Loulé, major productions at the Designer Outlet, the IGP event at the Algarve Stadium, consecutive events at MAR, Infralobo and others. We even did things for B16. And, if I had to highlight one of the most interesting projects from that period, I would undoubtedly highlight the activation we did for MAR Shopping Algarve on Valentine’s Day. It was our idea, which we executed in its entirety. A fantastic day. Between Loulé, Olhão and Faro, we “kidnapped” couples for the perfect day. It was really cool:

Alongside all these projects, I continued sending the Reconstruir Moçambique project video to all my contacts, hoping to unlock its return. I had even already secured communication platforms and channels throughout the Algarve; the involvement of the IKEA Group headquarters through its global social responsibility department; the individual participation of some people with above-average financial means through donations; the interest of partners who could enable us to develop appropriate technological platforms; among others. One of them was João Amaro, responsible for several projects, himself an entrepreneur, lecturer, consultant and a reference for me in the Algarve business world, having been involved for decades in applications for European funds designed to support companies and business initiatives in the region.

I had lunch with João Amaro at Restaurante Tertúlia Algarvia to discuss the strategy for implementing the project in the short, medium and long term. He too had been moved by the content of the video. He too wanted to get involved and support the cause. He too wanted to participate. And during that lunch, while we were talking about the tripartite strategy between B16 and the formation of two associations, one in Portugal and another in Mozambique, João Amaro told me “about that thing” that we had all heard about in the news, but which I simply had not paid proper attention to.

I don’t watch television. I stopped watching it. I don’t believe in anything. I closed myself off from the world. And that is worrying. I have already mentioned this in another chapter. I come from a school of truth for truth’s sake, whatever the cost. The media ceased to be impartial. That stance disappeared. What I was taught at university is practised by few or almost none. I see news reports that are an absolute waste of time. So my brain creates defences. I stopped watching the news. And that information about people dying around the world was, in my opinion, just more sensationalism of the moment. I didn’t pay much attention. I saw images, but without feeling them. And that remained “in the air” within me…

It was only when João Amaro said that “there is a possibility that they will shut everything down from the 12th of March onwards” that something clicked in my mind. I immediately asked him: “Sorry? I didn’t understand. Explain that a little better…”. Only then did the penny drop. And even then my mind was telling me “no, Bruno, forget that, focus on the application; on the Reconstruir Moçambique project; the children need this involvement; that is what matters”. But as he went into more detail, João was narrowing the entire application down to its dependence on this same global event. If nothing happened in Portugal, everything would be fine; but if it did, then we would have to give up once and for all, because we had no idea what would happen from that point onwards…

We left it with that agreement between us: “we’ll talk again on Thursday”. I was to send him this and that by e-mail; he had to share this and that matter; and other details relating to the application we were going to prepare. We had lunch. I paid the bill. We said goodbye and I went back to work. I no longer remember what I did that day. What I do remember is that I started watching the news at night. And at lunchtime. And then the channels were always on and, before I knew it, I already had masks, gloves and hand sanitiser in my car, in Rute’s car, at home, at my parents’ homes, at my in-laws’ homes, wherever I went. From there until lockdown, it was a blink of an eye. But before we entered lockdown, that same week, I received three consecutive phone calls: two on the same day, another the following day. All informing me: “Bruno, the situation we are all going through means that we have to call our suppliers and cancel all orders planned until further notice. We are cancelling all events, content and productions from now on. We will send an e-mail, but first we wanted you to hear it from us over the phone.” – it was more or less the same speech from all three Clients who called me and who, in less than 48 hours, demolished the idea that my break even had been achieved.

I am a fan of the series Vikings. I have watched it more than once. The first three seasons are the ones I like the most, after that it becomes too confusing for my head. In one of the episodes of the second season, I believe the seventh, Ragnar performs a ceremony for his rival, Jarl Borg, known as the “blood eagle”. In that ceremony, coldly, Earl Ragnar attempts to return to his adversary the respect he deserved, in a savage ritual, charged with human brutality, blood and pain. It is hideous for anyone who is not prepared. Horrific. Incredible and shocking. And Ragnar invites his son to watch so that he understands how important it is to deal with honour, with values, with respect. So that he understands the importance of integrity. The rival himself asks for it to be so. For when passing through this earth, only honourable men deserve to reach Valhalla. To get there, the path is mandatory. For the more sensitive, I do not recommend it. The three phone calls I received transformed me into a kneeling victim, with my hands resting on tree trunks, about to be dismembered by the axe that would strip me and shape me into an eagle, guiding me towards my destiny…

As I received the phone calls, I spoke with my better half. If, during the first phone call, Rute’s words were encouraging, by the second and third there were already onomatopoeic sounds of resignation to a difficult moment that was about to arrive. And when that happens, you are halfway towards something difficult, painful and transformative.

At the beginning of the year, I had gone to Eindhoven with Rute. Just the two of us. Our Olívia stayed with my dear mother-in-law, Grandma Julieta. For four or five days we stayed in a spectacular hotel, with two bicycles just for us, which took us to Van Gogh’s meadows, through the city streets, and where we courted each other, alone, connected and in love, just as we needed. That year I had also gone to celebrate my birthday in Nazaré, with friends.

But, at no point in my life, had I ever felt so frightened and helpless.

Each of us dealt with the pandemic in our own way. We all have stories to tell. Perhaps there are stories we have in common. Perhaps there are similar feelings. Perhaps there are details we thought were unique to us, but which ended up being exactly the same as those experienced by our friends, family or acquaintances. I remember feeling like Superman whenever I went to the supermarket to do the shopping; I remember disinfecting every bag, package and product with hand sanitiser. Even fruit and vegetables. I remember having a bunch of bananas in one hand and the hand sanitiser spray in the other. I remember taking all my clothes off before entering the house and going straight into the hottest shower I could manage. I remember the endless, repeated, inconsequential tests. I remember competing for the coolest and most durable masks and getting frustrated when only the ordinary ones were left. I remember driving with gloves on. Walking around MAR Shopping Algarve wearing a visor. I was absolutely terrified whenever someone said or mentioned that person X had Covid. It was enough for us to start counting the days. Incubation on this day. Symptoms on those days. Fuck. And now? I remember cutting ties with people because of it. I remember the national orders. The national, regional or local lockdowns. This municipality could, but the others could not. I remember the authorisations I had to carry, the documents, the way I had to show the authorities the documents, through the window, wearing a mask, without human contact. I remember that wave of extraterrestrials that took us into an unparalleled relational world. I remember many things… But the worst memory was when my brother and I had to call INEM to ask them to admit our father to hospital in the middle of COVID-19…

…

Watching him arrive at the Hospital emergency department.
By ambulance. On a stretcher.
Watching him enter and…
seeing him disappear through the automatic doors.
That, yes. A memory that takes the ground from beneath our feet…

…

And that was it.

A year that began with trips, smiles, happiness, people, the dream of Reconstruir Moçambique, a year of stability at the company that would allow me to travel to Southern Africa with the certainty that everything was happening in Faro, with João Guerra; a year in which I would film in Maputo and bring the footage back for the Viking to edit and for us to put online; a year in which B16 would leverage an application for a European fund in order to implement it; a year in which… everything was fine and, within the space of one week, BANG! From blue skies to dark night; from water lilies in the lagoon to an airless desert; from diving into the sea on a summer’s day to a winter’s day in a soaking wet T-shirt…

The first quarter of 2020 is a game of synonyms – absolutely antagonistic – that my mind cannot conceive. It is pure contradiction. Metaphors killed by the absence of words. Silence interrupted by the deafening noise of the lack of decibels. Deep dream, endlessly inconsequential nightmare. Absence of meaning. Of senses.

Days, weeks, months.

Two things I will never forget:

The first: the loyalty of MAR Shopping Algarve!
They never cancelled the retainer they had with us for video production. At the time, it was transformative, and even today I feel a sense of commitment, devotion and indebtedness for the gesture they made towards B16. Unforgettable decency. Trust. Seriousness. An understanding that a company the size of B16, if it stopped having this minimum level of turnover, would sooner or later go bankrupt. And for those who remember my story about the copy shop in 2008, that image generated panic. Panic that was soothed by the extraordinary relationship that revealed itself at this unique moment we all lived through in 2020. MAR’s loyalty brought us to other levels of production. We began distributing videos for people who were, like us, at home. Home made videos. Amateur videos. Which we cut, re-edited, embellished and post-produced so that they would have the best possible quality at a time when we were all learning how to live. Videos of exercises at home (healthy days), exercise videos with pets (Woofland), cooking recipe videos (chefs), among others. And it was during one of those moments that we returned to MAR to produce the delivery service for Chef Guy D’Oré:

Later, MAR brought us back to the endless productions. But this was a frightening job that made us think about new ways of communicating, transacting and commercialising. About the new positioning model for an agency like B16. About the future that lay ahead of us.

I have mentioned elsewhere that I never imagined having a company for 10 years. I never thought I would make it this far. Celebrating. Writing. Remembering. Recording the highs and lows of this journey, which has still not reached its end and which, apparently, still has some durability in an era in which artificial intelligence is establishing itself with force. At that time, it was frightening to see the concern in the words, gestures and postures of everyone around us. And for someone who did not watch television, we eventually did watch it, and it was not a little. And the stories were frightening. And what the world was telling us was that we needed to be careful. To protect ourselves. And my family and I lived through that fear together. And the option I had at that time was to reduce fixed costs…

The second: the decision to “fire” João Guerra!
One of the most difficult moments I have ever experienced at B16. Most of the difficult moments of this first decade are, in one way or another, related to people. In this particular case, it was the lack of money to pay João every month. Having a videographer when he could not film was frightening at the time. It was during this period that I had to take out a loan. There were exceptional conditions for companies. Fortunately. I took out a loan to consolidate the car finance, purchase equipment and prepare for the months ahead until COVID-19 passed. But at that time, money was only coming in from MAR Shopping Algarve, and it was nowhere near enough to cover the monthly expenses. I spoke to João Guerra and it was the hardest conversation I had ever had. João was disappointed. Sad. Disregarded. Surprised. Deeply angered by the way I pulled the rug from under him when everything seemed to be flowing towards a growing company. It was the decision that felt most right at the time. Knowing what I know today, I regret it deeply. I am certain that the three or four months that followed could have been spent with the confidence that everything would eventually be alright and that we would return to working together once the lockdowns ended. But at the time, the feeling was one of fear, insecurity and instability. And I did not want to accumulate costs that were not generating a direct return for the company. It was my decision. We spoke. We said things to each other. And we even took a photograph that remained. But after that, it is difficult to forget and erase what I did. I was the one who did it. And that was how my relationship with the Viking, whom I respect greatly, came to an end.

As of today, it brings me great joy to exchange messages with João. I send him chapters as I write them and receive his feedback with unparalleled consideration. I continue to feel enormous gratitude for having lived what I lived with him. I continue to remember some projects that will never lose their identity. I continue to be his fan and to admire him greatly. But life is not simple. Sometimes we do the right thing, sometimes we do the wrong thing. I did it this way. My intention was the best, but it had consequences. Irreparable ones.

…

Pause.
“I take a deep breath and remember my strength”.

…

The cancellation of the Reconstruir Moçambique project, the obligation to indebt B16 due to a lack of liquidity, the three phone calls that cancelled the entire year’s activity plan and the end of my relationship with João Guerra, all together, add not one, but two thousand kilometres to the distance that has been growing over these last ten years. It was a unique year. Psychotic, as I have already mentioned. Horrific and beautiful. With unparalleled consequences. Unequalled. A year of unimaginable proportions. Bad ones. And good ones.

With masks.
Hand sanitiser.
And latex gloves.