January 2014, when for the first time in my life I felt the bitter need to have what is mine, earned with my own sweat and hard work. At that time, I was just a young man with little sense of life. I had a strong desire to possess material goods that would put me in an advantaged social status. My friends and I wanted to show off in front of the girls with the best designer labels, the best cell phone of the time, but we were just young, unemployed, without opportunity, and the life my parents led was not financially sound. It was the year I had to go to college for the first time, but I was not admitted to the Biology course at the Superior Institute of Sciences of the Namibe province in Angola. I was a very religious young man; I had even managed to gather more than 30 members and start a small church. So, the head pastor of my church offered me a scholarship for a Theology course. Since I already had the desire to serve God, it seemed good to me to study theology. It would add more knowledge to me, and who knows, in the short term, I might become a pastor? I thought. I went to college, which was far from my province; I had to move to the Huila province where the Theology faculty was located. So I started the course with another brother who also benefited from the same scholarship at that time. I didn't have a place to stay exactly, as the pastor provided the vacancy but didn't give me any more information about it. He didn't say where I would live, what I would eat, or how I would get to college every day. He didn't mention how I would pay for the college expenses, and nothing else. I simply started to study based on faith. I say based on faith because it is not possible to go to sleep not knowing how I would get to college early in the morning or where I would sleep that night, worse still, what I would eat that night. But something strange happened: the young man I went to college with was named Pedro. He had relatives in the Huila province, and he invited me to join him at their house, where they welcomed us. But it was still unsettled how I would get to college the next day. Therefore, there was no way; we had to get up at 5 am and start walking to the college, which was about a 1 hour and 40 minutes walk. So, the classes started at 7:00 am, and we had to be on time. We walked along the road, walked along the railroad, through the grass and small bushes in completely unfamiliar areas for us. Then we arrived at the college. All this happened every day from Monday to Friday, but it only lasted about a month. I was tired of the life I was leading, and even though it was meant to earn a higher academic degree, it made no sense to me to endure so much sacrifice. I didn't want so much suffering; I wanted money. I wanted to change my life quickly, no matter what it took, just a source of monthly income. At 21 years old, I didn't exactly know how to make decisions that would change my future. I never thought about life with futuristic intentions. I wanted to look good; work was all I wanted. One day at college, I received a phone call, and that call changed everything in my life up to now. In that month, March 2014, the national army had started the recruitment process. So my friends who knew about the difficulties I was facing talked, and one of them called me one morning while I was at college and said, "Asafe, how are you? The army enlistments have started; aren't you going?" I replied that I wouldn't go because I was in college and needed to finish the 5 years to become a pastor. Then he asked me, "Do you want to be a pastor? Did you know that in the army, you can receive a salary of up to 96,000 kwanzas and still be a higher education student, and at the end of the course receive the rank of second lieutenant and still be an effective member of the army with a salary of up to 214,000 kwanzas per month?" I was shocked; I couldn't breathe because nervousness took over me, and millions of thoughts ran through my mind at the same time.
At that time, I started to think about the money I would receive, and the things I would buy, how it would help my mother, and yet I would still be able to look good in front of the girls and be respected as a soldier in the national army. It was exactly what I wanted; the solution had come for me. Then he continued, "Abandon this college; you don't need to stay there anymore. You need to change your life; don't think twice and go enlist." He barely knew that I wasn't listening to him; I had already made the decision to drop out of college and go for enlistment. So, the difficult part came, and now I need to inform the pastor that I will have to drop out of college because I have a better proposition, and I knew he would be disappointed as he expected better from me. He had trusted me with that vacancy, and the plans for a future pastor of his church in whom he had put his trust would be frustrated, but there was no way around it. I had to do it. So, I took my phone and dialed his number. I started, "Good morning, Pastor Luís; I hope you're well. I didn't want to disappoint you, but I will have to drop out of college because I received a better offer, and I need to accept it. I'm sorry; I really regret it." I spoke in a low voice, stuttering and stumbling over my words, afraid of hurting him. Then, he heard everything and simply replied, "It's okay." He didn't say another word. However, I felt some sadness in his voice, and I felt really bad for doing that. But there was no choice; I needed to move on. So, I asked my sister to send me some money to travel to the Benguela province, which was where everything was happening. My sister promised to send me the money the next day, but I needed to travel on the same day. That's when I asked Pedro, the young man I had studied with at college, but now I had to leave him. So, he gave me about 8,000 kwanzas, which was the equivalent of the fare. Then I quickly packed what was left of my clothes, which weren't many, about 3 changes of clothes and a pair of shoes that I took without asking from Pedro's cousin, who had welcomed us into his house. I headed to the bus station and went towards Benguela. On that day, that bus was full of young people with the same destination as me; many of them came from the Namibe province, the province where I had left to go to Huila, where the college was. They already had an idea of what would happen on that enlistment journey, but I didn't know anything. No one explained anything to me; no one talked to me about what would happen there. I only had my dreams in my head. I only thought about the salary and the power I would have at the end of the course. I was so excited, sitting on the bus as the journey went on. It was a long trip, about 9 hours on the road, dirt roads, potholed roads, some bushes, and small rural areas that we passed through, but I didn't know. It was the first time I was going to that province. My first experience; anxiety was taking over me. Then, after almost 10 hours on the road, we were entering the military barracks for cadets in Lobito, Benguela province. It was already night, around 10 p.m. or so. We were placed to sleep on the floor somewhere in the barracks; it was a smooth cement floor, it was so cool that I felt quite cold. I was hungry, had a little water, and that was all I had. So, with that courage, I went to sleep. At 5 a.m., we were woken up by a very loud sound; it was the barracks' bell. They struck a large container that sounded like a thunder. It was all new to me. Then, at almost 6:30 a.m., they lined us up and informed us that we would go to the mess hall. So, we sang recruits' songs, which I used to hear when I lived in the Namibe province because my parents' house was near a military barracks. I started to pay attention to the song and sing along. We stomped our feet on the ground and marched towards the mess hall.
It was unprecedented. I was so hungry that all I desired was a good meal of meat, beans, and rice, something my mind was creating, but the line was slow; people entered the mess hall one by one. We were about a thousand or more young people, and so we had to wait for others to finish eating before others could start. The mess hall wasn't very large, but it could fit about 100 young people at a time. Finally, it was my turn to enter the mess hall. They gave me a glass of milk and bread; the bread had a piece of cheese on it. I sat at the table, looked around, and on the other side were the cadets from the previous year who had secured a spot at the Army Military Academy. They looked so handsome in their military uniforms, smelled good, had a glow about them. On the other side were the generals of the barracks, important people; I was able to observe all of this in just a few minutes. I started to eat; the bread had a unique taste, the cheese seemed like the Portuguese cheese my father used to talk about. I had never tasted Portuguese cheese before. But the milk was so rich, and the flavor mixed in my mouth, and I could feel the delicious morning snack. Perhaps everything had happened that way because of the hunger I had endured all night. The snack ended, and it was time for the formation and presentation. We all stood in a vast field; the commanding general of the barracks, Mr. Francisco Queiroz, appeared. He was a man of few words, dressed in his gala uniform - green trousers with red stripes on the sides, his green shirt with emblems on the chest and his name on the right side of the shirt. On his shoulders, you could see the golden stars on his red shoulder boards; it was luxurious. I saw things in a different dimension. I was in a new place, and everything was new and seemed very glamorous and fantastic. Then the general began to speak, welcoming us and wishing us good luck. He also thanked us for the courage we had for being there as young people. At that age, many opportunities can happen; everyone knew that except me. The general informed us that we would go through a test of physical endurance, a health test, and finally, a written test on scientific knowledge and general culture. He gave us the rest of the day to prepare and rest enough.