Another Day of Life (2018) - full transcript

A gripping story of a three-month-long journey that renowned Polish reporter Ryszard Kapuscinski took across Angola ravaged by a war in which the front lines shifted like a kaleidoscope ...

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It's 1975.

The Vietnam War is over but the Cold war still rages.

The two powers, USA and the USSR,

are tearing the world apart to expand their influence.

That same year,

the Portuguese colonial empire has collapsed.

After five centuries of domination,

Portugal is leaving her African colonies.

The last and most coveted, Angola.

This crown jewel

will soon be an independent country.

Independence Day's been booked, it's in the calendar,

November the 11th, just a month away.

But as usual, it's never that simple.

While the Portuguese flee taking as much as they can,

a civil war erupts between two Angolan factions.

To the winner, a land rich in diamonds and petrol...

which is why the two world powers

have picked their sides,

and just like that Angola has become

the new Cold War chessboard.

Russia is backing the Socialist MPLA...

while the capitalists FNLA and UNITA

they have America watching their backs.

Armed to the teeth, they want power at any price.

Most often, the price of their brother's blood.

Many are convinced the country will turn into a hell.

Those who could were fleeing Angola

Me?

I was bent on going there!

DEATH TO COMMUNISTS DEATH TO MPLA

Crazy MPLA people

Mama! I don't like it here!

Taxi! Taxi! Would you take me to the airport?

This country won't last!

Forty years of work I've put in here!

Please, can you hurry up!

Who's gonna pay me back!

Faster! We need to get out of here!

Give me a break! Do you see any soldiers?

Do you really want to wait here until they come?

They say they will kill tonight.

They say they are planning it!

Calm down, calm down my friend.

They won't attack today, nobody's coming, okay?

Let's go, c'mon! Out of the building, now!

It's a cosmic mess.

And they have a word for that here...

Confuçao, confuçao, confuçao! Yes?

It's a good word. A synthesis word. An everything word.

Excuse me. There's no water in my room.

The water doesn't work.

Water? I don't know! Confuçao! Yes?

If the FNLA and UNITA are backed by the Americans,

won't that end the war?

I don't know! Confuçao!

Fuckers!

When are the cargo ships leaving? I still have to

my load my possessions, when are they leaving!

Wow! Easy, easy...

You ask me? Ask the port authority!

Dona Cartagina!

Ricardo, hi! Mua!

My name is Ryszard Kapuscinski.

I work for the Polish Press Agency.

Their only foreign reporter,

covering 50 countries around the world.

A new Africa is being born in Angola.

There is no way I wasn't going to be here.

And this is Luanda.

City of paranoia.

City of chaos.

My favorite.

Welcome to my cage.

CONNECTION

It's him

Again?

Are you kidding me?

Jesus!

Good morning!

You're a pain in the ass, Mr Kapuscinski.

Nelson!

What is it this time?

I wanna go South.

Are you crazy?

You're not taking a step out of this city!

C'mon!

The Southern front!

Your only outpost down there...

Pereira d'Eça? The place, the key.

South Africa is really close and we all know

it's got America’s backing.

And the last thing the MPLA needs is a dead reporter.

C'mon! Who is your commander in the south?

Just a name.

Farrusco.

Good. Farrusco.

Oh, no, no, no, it's 1500 kilometers away.

Pereira d'Eça.

No!

How many different ways can I tell you no!

There's my story.

Nai?

Nai?

Nie.

Nie. Yes, nie!

Why are you smiling man?

I will get my permit.

You will, huh?

I'll be back tomorrow.

Bring your smile!

Oh I will!

My wife says it's the first thing she noticed about me.

Psss...

I'm talking about a free country Friedkin,

a free country...

Aaah... You are wrong.

November the 11th, Independence Day for all Angola!

Here we go again, MPLA dailies!

Our brave soldiers control Lubango,

Benguela, Pereira d'Eça. Our borders are sealed.

Ah... Excuse me, is that with Soviet help or Cuban,

Mr. Nelson?

Jesus, stop it Friedkin, it's boring already.

The only foreign power trying to take hold

here is your very own CIA,

backing the cannibals of UNITA...

write that into your newspaper!

The Cubans are already here, admit it, Artur!

It's rumors!

Just like the CIA rumors!

No, no, no, no, the CIA is not rumors!

Rumors! Yes! They are rumors!

You know what? No more. This is my country.

That's what you don't understand.

I grew up under injustice and absence of freedom.

Not mine: somebody else's.

And my mother whispered in my ear,

"Son, you must always stand with those who suffer".

I unconditionally positioned myself

on the side of the...

...of the MPLA.

We had a popular army.People armed themselves.

You, me, anyone.

And at that time, in 1975, I was in that fight

when I met Kapuscinski, Ricardo.

C'mon guys!

All you talk about is rumors the whole time.

I wanna talk about the front lines. Not Luanda.

Not Benguela. Here. Pereira d'Eça. The Southern Front.

This is where the war will be decided.

This is where I'm gonna go.

Good luck.

The MPLA commander down there is called Farrusco.

Oh! I've heard of him.

Holding the entire southern front.

One man, entire front

Ah... Chasing ghosts, Kapuscinski.

Do you think Nelson's news is any more real, huh?

There are no facts here.

Just Confusço, huh? Yeah

Yes. And everybody is afraid to say anything

in case the CIA hears!

Ha! C-I-A!

And how could you know all of this, huh?

Oh yes, Ricardo likes to "play spy".

Yeah.

I just like to get to the heart of things.

Ah...

Farrusco. He is the story.

I know him! Fuckin' bastard piece of shit!

Hey hey!

He smokes like whisky... Whisky and cigarettes.

Motherfucker. Farrusco. Fucking traitor.

Oh!

A traitor?

Yeah. He is fucking Portuguese... just like me!

We came together to Angola. Portuguese paratroopers.

But he is a deserter. He joined the MPLA.

And now that fucking son of a bitch he will die

for those Communist bastards!

Easy, easy, easy...

Yeah! Communist bastards!

If I see him again,

I'll cut his fuckin' throat from ear to ear!

Yeah, yeah, yeah. . . Hey. Hey hey. Is this your friend?

Take him home, teach him how to drink!

Put your hands off me! I can walk! I'm ok!

I guess you'd call that a reliable source, huh?

The only MPLA man in the south

protecting Angola is a Portuguese traitor?

Excellent. Too good to miss.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. . .

Nobody's gonna give you a pass.

So come with me, Artur.

You're an Angolan,

I don't need the permit if you take me there.

Oh...

You're fuckin' crazy!

Couldn't be more serious, my friend.

The South is different!

You don't know the enemy from a friend down there.

They're not even wearing uniforms.

It's like Russian Roulette, Ricardo.

Come with me, Artur.

You know what?

What's this guy smoking?

Let's go to the best place in town.

Okay, let's go!

Let's go!

He loved that atmosphere.

Especially that of the suburbs and the musseques.

The biggest support for the MPLA

came from the neighbourhoods

and the musseques.

MPLA's activists were heavily armed

in the neighbourhoods,

and when we entered we felt at home,

totally safe.

With Angola independent that's the whole

continent now! Africa is awakening...

Feels good, huh?

But you know what? She needs names.

Names?

Slave traders took millions of people,

but can we name a single victim?

Africa doesn't need victims.

No, no, no... but her entire history

has been anonymous, now she needs a voice.

An African Che Guevara.

Why not?

Yeah, why not?

God help us.

Ah...

C'mon Friedkin.

When Che Guevara arrived in the Congo,

the command structure was in numbers.

The first-in-Command, number one.

Second-in-Command, number two.

And Che took only number three.

Three? Number three?

Yes. Just the translator .

Because that way he stays low, under the net,

finds the truth.

and puts the black man above the white man.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah...

Ah! So the bullet takes the black guy first! Genius!

Enough! Enough, enough. . . enough talk.

Now, we dance. C'mon Friedkin.

I don't dance.

Ha! Ha! Ha!

You hang on every word, Friedkin, on every word!

Força amigo! Dança camarada! Vamos polaco!

Força Angola! Dança polaco, dança polaco!

Ricardo, they've been through the whole hotel.

Every room.

It's such a mess. It's the FNLA.

Please Ricardo, go back to Poland.

You are not safe here.

YOU'RE DEAD, SOCIALIST REPORTER

Do you know when you're living on the edge

and your life is no longer worth a great deal?

It's much easier to make friends. We became friends.

A friendship that's only possible

when you are totally hopeless.

No.

Again?

No!

My dear students...

who can tell me:

What draws a man out into the world?

Curiosity?

Hunger for experience?

The man who ceases to be astonished is hollow,

possessed of an extinguished heart.

If he believes he's seen it all,

then something most precious has died within him...

the delight in life.

The police are chasing down the street!

Please somebody help me!

The city is dying.

Disappearing.

First, the Portuguese police left,

and the country fell into anarchy.

Then, the firemen left.

Then, the garbage-men.

Finally, the colonials,

saying goodbye to their African homes

with a mixture of despair and anger.

In the docks of Luanda.

a new wooden city begins to rise.

Portuguese lives boxed up in crates,

the richer the people, the bigger the crate.

Everything has to be squeezed in.

And all that remains to do is to lock the door...

and say your final goodbye.

All they wanted was to save their lives

and their property.

They didn't want Angola...

That's one helluva news report, Polish!

...any more.

D'ya put all that in your telex?

Oh boy, your bosses must love you!

C'mon, we got to go

Nelson's called a press conference.

Artur, c'mon.

This guy, he's a fake!

He's running after this imaginary Francesco!

Farrusco.

Artur...

You wanna know what I've seen?

I've seen his reports,

Artur, there's nothing there, absolutely nothing!

And now he wants you to drive him to the South?

Are you both crazy, for Christ sakes?!

You'll get yourself killed!

Angola!

Helloo, are we going?

Pack light.

Heeey! Hey you can't do this to me!

I pay gas money! You need me!

Hey, no, no, no. . . for a.

Fuckers.

Hey, remember what I told you at the bar...

about Russian Roulette?

Yeah.

Well, there's one thing you can do at a checkpoint.

You can give the right greeting.

We the MPLA we salute each other with "Camarada".

Camarada.

Aha. . . Our enemies they call each other "Irmâo".

Irmâo.

Choose the wrong one...

you can start digging your own grave.

Heads or tails.

Yeah. Oh! And you know what?

What?

They never salute first.

Kapuscinski suffered the reporter's insanity

that takes you to places

which could be the last... But you go.

And he went.

The MPLA had the support of more than 90%*

of the Angolan people.

Each citizen turned a defender of his homeland.

Women, children,

old people, the sick... Everyone.

Those from FNLA and UNITA

were professional assassins.

They murdered peasant towns of northern Angola

in cold blood.

When was the last time you were here?

Since 75. I never came back.

And what do you feel?

Maybe a little anguish.

Help! Help!

Stop! Stop the car!

Ajudame!

It could be a trap.

Shit.

FNLA and UNITA,

cruel armies.

They are cannibals.

Artur told me some days ago,

I didn't believe him.

Artur!

There is one alive!

There is one kid alive!

What I saw, what I witnessed on this road was maybe

the most infernal image I've ever seen in my life.

Imagine several kilometers

of road scattered with corpses.

About 40 or 50 km.

We got out of the car and ran

to check if there was any child alive.

But they were all dead.

Mothers and children killed by the same shot.

I lost peace forever.

Right here on this road.

I was aware they were going to massacre us here,

it was almost like a death foretold.

Artur! Cover.

Shit.

Remember what I told you,

Irmâo or Camarada, heads or tails!

Press! We are from press.

Easy. Easy.

Easy. Easy.

Let's say something!

Let's say something!

Camarada!

Oh, shit...

No! No, no, no, no...

No! No, no..

Get under!

On the floor!

Get your head down!

You two sons of bitches up now!

Shit.

Just be still, I will talk, be still, just be still.

Okay,

With your hands up!

Don't shoot.

MPLA.

Please don't shoot

We are friends!

We are from press.

Reporters!

What the fuck are you doing here?

We have a permit.

Bring me some medicine

and bandages from the truck, now!

Shove it up your ass, reporter.

What's your name?

Kambale.

How old are you?

They pay you to fight?

They give food.

They pay if we win the battle.

So do you win any?

I never fired a gun.

They promised me school after war.

Take the injured and the bodies into my truck, now.

I was a journalist

and a fighter at the same time.

I had to...

shoot.

That's not worthy of a journalist,

but I was a fighter too.

I'm aware I broke

my professional code.

And not only I broke it, but also torpedoed it.

Do you remember if you killed someone?

I hope not. Whoever it was.

Not even the cruelest assassin.

No. I hope not.

Airtight. C'mon Ricardo, get in the car,

we have to go.

Ricardo.

Ricardo, tomorrow morning,

the FNLA is gonna put all of this on the front pages

blaming the MPLA.

We have to report it first!

Artur, I have to go south.

What are you talking about?

That road leads only to hell.

Artur...

I'll see you in Luanda.

Ahh...

I hope so, my friend.

I hope so

Ok, let's go,

we have to reach Benguela as soon as possible.

Branco, Branco...

Photo, please, photo.

Photo please...

They all want to be photographed.

To leave a trace,

to remain.

I was here.

This is how I looked.

This is the face I had when I was alive.

Hey!

You! You, white man!

Welcome to Benguela, huh?

You're in the wrong place.

There's nothing here!

Luanda that way.

Well I'm going south.

Pereira d'Eca.

Farrusco, huh?

Nobody is going to Farrusco!

Don't listen to him.

He's crazy, he's nobody.

Nobody, huh?!

I am Carlos!

Carlos!

Bring Daddy here!

Yes ma'am!

Uuuu!

Hello, amigo.

Hello,

hi.

Come upstairs!

It was very weird he was there,

a lonely Polish reporter...

Why a Polish man?

He shook my hand vigorously.

He wasn't looking for friends.

He was looking for people with authority

who could take him to the key points of the war.

Take me to the south.

No!

No south!

I sent five supply trucks two months ago to Farrusco.

No one came back!

We lost comms a month ago.

. I'm wasting no more men or supplies on Farrusco.

He's dead already as far as I know.

Look around you.

Soldiers barely out of diapers.

No ammunition.

Maybe Poland will help,

you are socialist, right?

You help me,

and I help you.

Weapons,

mortars, machine guns,

tanks.

Write that to your readers!

I will write.

I can get your story out there.

But...

what about one full convoy to Farrusco?

No!

Ah...

C'mon!

Listen...

not just another defenseless truck,

but a proper military expedition.

And if it will succeed...

I will have two heroes in the South.

Farrusco

and...

Daddy.

So...

you want my best soldier...

She drove me here.

You like Carlota, huh?

Yes.

She saved my life.

And then you will write about Daddy? Hm?

And then I will write.

Deal.

Come on, guys, you help us?

Come on, guys, you help us?

How could you go wrong with her in the frame?

She has a smile the world puts on magazine covers.

The face of Angola.

Carlota had such a charisma

that from the beginning was intimately tied

to the guarantee of victory.

She was a very arrogant guerrilla, very determined,

with her Kalashnikov...

She had her own project of a nation.

And she was very concerned about children,

about how children would be educated in Angola

in the foreseeable future.

Kapuscinski asked me,

"Are you scared?"

And I said.

"The further we go, the greater will be the danger".

And he smiled at me and said,

"When the shots start, fear disappears".

Are you a spy, or what?

Relax Carlota, he's our friend!

Thank you.

For what?

You made Daddy Cool help Farrusco.

Do you know him?

Everybody knows Farrusco.

The Portuguese who changed sides.

He is everything the MPLA stands for.

He took Lubango with very few men.

He captured Pereira d'Eça.

He fired mortars himself, no base!

He held them in his hands, burning from hot barrels.

Blisters and sores everywhere!

He's a great man.

He taught us how to fight.

He will see us to victory.

It is an honor to fight beside him.

When did you join the MPLA?

I've always been in the MPLA.

Of course

I love my country.

Do you not love yours?

Yes, of course, I do.

Do you have war in your country?

There were some.

In the past.

Terrible ones.

I remember better the beginning

of the war than the end.

You fought?

No, no, I was a child, and children didn't fight...

then.

What's that grandfather?

Remember this day, Rysiek.

Remember.

Remember...

For a long time I thought this was the world.

This is how it looks.

What life is like.

But it stopped?

What?

Your war.

Ah...

yes, many years ago, yes

But when you've lived through war,

you can never be free of it.

Ah...

I don't know...

So why you come here?

I tried many different jobs, but...

war was my first understanding of the world.

Aaah... shit.

First, the vision. Then, the smell.

We saw corpses

of soldiers and guerrillas.

They were about to burst, they were all swollen.

Carlota said that could cause a plague,

that it was dangerous for the health of the children

who were playing nearby.

Kapuscinski also helped

to spray the bodies with petrol.

Then Carlota,

with her machine gun and Commander Toni

fired to set them on fire.

Poland is...

in Europe?

Yes,

yes.

In Europe.

So you miss your home?

Of course I do.

But when I'm there...

I miss Africa more.

What about you?

Hmm?

When the war is over.

With the MPLA,

Angola will be free.

And then, you will see.

Children will go to school, and be healthy...

And I will be here,

working for my country.

Oh yes?

What will you do?

I trained to be a nurse.

Many people to help.

You were really good with that guy yesterday, really.

A surgeon maybe?

Maybe.

But you know?

Sometimes,

I faint when I see blood...

Ricardo, in two months, I will be twenty.

I want my own children.

. But first we have to win this war.

Maybe one day I will read about myself, huh?

I hope so.

I'm sure.

Make sure they won't forget us.

You have my word.

Carlota,

the enemy waits in the forest next to Balombo.

Okay. Give me a minute.

We're aborting.

What?

We'll resume our mission tomorrow.

Carlos, take them back to Benguela.

Yes, ma'am!

Why?

No, Carlota, stay with us!

We'll have dinner tonight

and tomorrow we can go together to Lisbon, huh?

Why! Please, Carlota!

Go!

Right now!

Silence took over us

when the car started.

We were afraid of what could happen

because it was a battlefront.

There were thick dark clouds in the night sky.

Mmm. . . telex from Warsaw...

You're not going anywhere, Polish.

No escort.

There was an attack.

Everybody's dead.

Carlota?

Like I said,

everybody.

You want my best soldier...

She saved my life.

You like Carlota, huh?

The victories of the revolutionary war

come at a high price:

Camarada Carlota,

who we had just interviewed at the Balombo's front.

Less than 24 hours later, Carlota dropped dead.

Kapuscinski said,

"We should have insisted until the end".

Guilt feelings increased.

Kapuscinski cried,

I had already cried at the hotel.

And I said to Kapuscinski,

"Carlota has died, they're going to lose the war".

And Kapuscinski replied, "Morally, I think so".

Where are you going Ricardo?

No, please, stay.

This is not our fault.

We are just reporters,

there was nothing we could do...

Listen to me Ricardo!

I still miss her.

Wake up, Carlos.

Take me to Farrusco.

So why you come here?

No, no, no, no!

You two sons of bitches up now!

What the fuck are you doing here.

Please, Ricardo,

go back to Poland...

Go!

Right now!

The struggle continues!

Victory is certain!

Ricardo wake up!

Wake up!

Wake up Ricardo!

You wanna live?

Then shoot!

Yeah! We did it!

I told you.

I know him!

He opens the door!

He's my friend...

Commandante!

Ammunition?

So, it's... it's not that bad, yeah?

Look, I've got you two cans of gas and...

seven rounds of ammo

I mean...

I mean no ammo, but...

but I got flour, and...

and a reporter!

Yeah! He's from Poland!

Ryszard Kapuscinski, from the Polish Press Agency.

: I need ammo...

vehicles...

supplies...

soldiers...

and you bring me...

a fucking reporter.

What the fuck are you doing here, reporter?

You want an interview?

So...

ask me something.

Now?

Yes, now.

before those motherfuckers start shooting again.

So...

you are a...

hero...

a...

face of the cause.

What cause?

Can you load the cause into a pistol?

Next question.

Next question.

How have you held the southern front for this long?

You see these lines

on the floor?

They're the nearest you get to the front.

Stray over them and the sniper's bullet is yours.

Bom dia!

Paozinho quente de Maria...

And what about...

South Africa.

They want Luanda.

What do you mean?

I mean they have their tanks

armored cars,

their fucking CIA dollars and...

they're on the border.

So they're already here?

It's just a hundred kilometers.

And we're the only ones who stand in their way.

You know how many of us there are?

Fifty,

last count.

Write this:

"We're a detachment condemned to extermination".

You got to see something? Come.

Bom dia.

Um paozinho quente...

muito bem.

Eighty-one years old.

She bakes bread.

For over sixty years she bakes bread.

And she refuses to leave.

We love that woman

She's not for us, not for them.

She's... for life.

Life and bread.

That's enough.

More than enough.

You've had your last press conference, my friend.

I hope you got what you wanted.

Welcome to your grave.

Why did you change sides?

They shipped us in,

elite Portuguese paratroopers.

And they showed us these boys,

these twelve years old boys...

they were the enemy we

were supposed to be fighting with.

Twelve years old boys.

That's not me.

But then look at me now.

Look...

at my soldiers.

Boys will die anyway so...

here I am again.

Confuçao.

I have a son born to me in Lubango.

Big strong boy, they tell me.

Make his papa proud.

I haven't seen him.

Probably won't either but...

You know, Polish?

I'm not afraid of death.

I don't feel any fear.

Joaquim António Lopes Farrusco.

I was born in Portugal.

The first image I have

is the one that changed my life.

I remember it as if it was today.

It was a small child,

with very ripped, very old, very dirty clothes.

He shouted, "Give me a coin! Give me bread!"

I got sad and I said to myself,

"Here they're in the same situation

I was in my country".

That barefoot boy reminded me

of my adolescence.

I didn't come to defend anyone,

I probably came to oppress, right?

I was a commando, from the special forces.

I was 24.

It wasn't very difficult for me

to take a single side:

the side of the most disadvantaged.

It was very difficult to survive in that front.

A very broad front.

I had nothing except a handful of guerrillas

and the good will of MPLA's supporters, the people.

Kapuscinski talked to me for a few hours.

And we talked about my son who, by life's paradoxes,

ended up being killed by UNITA.

He was simply killed because I'm General Farrusco,

and they knew who General Farrusco was.

It was revenge.

Many parents lost their children.

I wasn't the only one.

Lean right!

Head back!

Head forwards!

Stretch!

And squats.

And more.

C'mon it's not the fucking weekend!

Move it!

Lads faster!

And jumping jacks.

Another day of life, Polish.

Hey!

Did I tell you to stop?

Move it. Squats now.

C'mon, look alive!

They moved.

South Africans?

They were spotted this morning.

They're crossing the border right now.

Then Luanda needs to know.

That's what you gonna do.

Okay, but how?

You will go with Carlos.

They're slow, they've got tanks,

armored carriers, heavy artillery,

columns of heavy stuff.

You go there now and we have

at least a couple of days of advantage.

Okay.

Tell them:

I need reinforcements, ammunition, mortars.

You hear me?

Yeah.

Carlos, how much time do you need?

Two hours.

Make it one.

Have a look.

Lubango is here,

it's 400 kilometers,

plus 350,

and you should reach Benguela by this time tomorrow.

Silence!

Silence!

This is way too fucking soon!

The South African Army is on the move. Surrender now.

Change of plan. You go now!

But the car is not ready Commandante!

To the positions!

Behind the wall!

To the roof!

C'mon boys, it's not the fucking weekend.

Ricardo! Get into the fucking car man!

We are here to free Angola.

Start the car. C'mon!

C'mon Carlos!

To Luanda Carlos.

: Oh, shit.

We have gas? We have enough gas?

C'mon Carlos!

Any resistance, I repeat, is futile. Surrender now.

We are here to free Angola.

Fucking South Africans!

Resistance is futile.

Get inside!

Get back! Get inside!

The South African Army is on the move.

Surrender now. Now.

I'm heading there, with the AK, fighting.

I think,

"Well, here I have a few minutes left, let's...

...let's fight to death with those guys".

I'm already dead.

The stream of blood was huge.

I heard, but I couldn't see.

And my unconscious told me,

"Careful, calm down, there's no problem,

all will be fine".

There was a second voice inside me that gave me...

...some life.

When the South Africans arrived, I got stuck there.

In the hospital.

It was an unequal fight.

The South African artillery,

the South African amour,

the helicopters' machine guns...

And even so, they resisted fighting for four hours.

Nearly all of those who resisted there died.

It was a massacre. That was a massacre.

Kapuscinski left Luanda to come and

see what was happening.

To tell the world that South African forces

were invading the Angolan territory.

The world denied it.

I think this was his mission.

A mission that led him to me, to the south of Angola.

A green soldier fears everything.

He shoots anywhere,

just so long as he can shoot.

He has an important battle to win:

the war with his own fear.

He is killing his own terror.

Tell him he has to call me.

Hold on.

Yeah.

Obrigado Carlos.

Son of a bitch...

Ricardo!

Ricardo my friend!

Oh...

I didn't think I'd ever see you again!

My friend!

You look like shit.

And I feel like shit.

What's been happening?

South Africa is happening.

What?

They are here?

They're south.

It was a rather distressing conversation

because that day, we knew we were going to lose.

We were living the last days of our lives.

Because they were going to get in shortly.

As soon as I told him to leave,

he replied, "No, I'll stay with you,

because I don't intend to yield on my place

by an invading army.

This is my mission.

I'll stay with you and I'll send my last news...

That's what he said to me.

I need to see Nelson.

No.

Things have changed.

You need to see the Cubans.

Listen, the southern front no longer exists.

The South Africans are here.

They took Pereira d'Eca yesterday morning.

I was there with Farrusco.

It's not just soldiers, it's a regular army.

Two battalions,

tanks,

armored carriers,

artillery,

they have American support!

Llama al jefe.

So what are you going to do now?

Are you telling Russia?

Russia won't support Cuba.

So Cuba will go in alone?

Thank you Ricardo,

we are not here

You understand...

The CIA, yes, the CIA organized everything.

The CIA against Angola.

South African troops invaded Southern Angola,

the central plateau.

They took Benguela, Lobito and continued.

We ere besieged in Luanda.

Ricardo always said,

"It's racism spreaded all around Africa".

If these guys win,

we're going to have an apartheid all over Africa".

That's what he thought.

The MPLA was alone, MPLA forces were alone.

Soviets abandoned us.

The Camarada President had to ask for help to Cuba.

And Camarada Fidel didn't hesitate.

he didn't wait for Kremlin's orders.

All men to the front!

All women to the front!

Your country needs you camaradas!

Fight for the future of Angola!

Only four more days for independence camaradas!

This is Cold War, Artur.

Forget about decolonization and independence.

This, now, is Cold War.

And the Cold War never ends.

And I will have played my part

Ricardo.

all you did was tell the Cubans what you saw.

. Is that your agency?

What are you going to report?

Artur, we are the only journalists

in the world with this information,

Cuba getting involved like this

I have to give them something.

We were certain that either

we won the battle of information

or they would destroy us.

And the MPLA would never take power.

Ricardo, if you make Cuba public...

Yes, I know.

It will change the course of events.

Changed the c...?

The CIA will intercept your telex,

and then America will want to do a whole lot more

than just back South Africa!

They will erase Angola from the map!

This is not about Cold War Ricardo!

This is about lives!

The future of Angola, my friend.

He, knowing that it was a large-scale operation,

had doubts about whether

he should send the telex or not.

We were reporters and we gave our lives for our job.

Cuba mobilizing against South Africa is big.

And I'm a reporter.

I have a scoop here.

We wait our whole lives for an opportunity like this.

What draws a man out into the world?

Curiosity?

Hunger for experience?

The man who ceases to be astonished is hollow,

possessed of an extinguished heart.

Excuse me, Professor, I've got a question for you.

Yes.

Just by being there, you change everything.

Wouldn't you agree?

Change what?

Fate.

The fate of an individual. Of a war

Of an entire people.

But if I wasn't there, the world wouldn't learn.

But if you weren't there, the war would be different.

Exchanges of fire might be shorter.

People might not die.

People die in war.

It's important the world reads about it.

You haven't answered my question.

Certainly, Ricardo became

a fighter of our cause, in his own way. Certainly.

SEND

Kapuscinski and I went to the airport.

And when I saw those Cubans

and those weapons arriving

I thought we still had some chance of winning.

They're calling it Operation Carlota.

The Cuban offensive.

Half the Cubans are descendants of Angolan slaves,

but you know the story of Carlota,

the Cuban slave girl?

She picked up a machete

and led a slave uprising in the 19th century.

She died fighting for liberation, Ricardo.

Operation Carlota.

Maybe one day I will read about myself, huh?

Yes. One day you will.

Surrender now.

Resistance is futile.

Thank you Ricardo, we are not here.

It's a special kind of oppressiveness we feel now.

Vice tightening.

A growing sense of danger and fear.

Because this is a lesson drawn from history.

That blood will flow

Crucial events cannot occur without it.

In Angola they have a word for this, remember?

Confuçao.

A state of anarchy and disorder.

Absolute disorientation.

We see it raging around us

but we can't do anything to stop it.

It can explode in a crowd

and sweep through a mass of people,

and then there is fighting,

and arson,

and death.

It can reign over an entire territory,

sweep through millions...

And then...

there is war.

If the Soviet Union and Cuban military forces

continue actions such as Angola,

we will without any question resist.

Because they had everything planned

in order to take over Angola before November 11th.

We're not looking for oil,

diamonds or any material interest.

We're fulfilling an elementary internationalist duty

when we're helping the people of Angola.

The Central Committee of the MPLA

solemnly proclaims

before Africa and the whole world.

the independence of Angola.

It was the happiest day of my life.

This Africa being born in Angola

was an Africa without neocolonialism,

the Africa of a complete and authentic liberation.

Kapuscinski and I went to have a drink

of Carta Blanca rum

to celebrate it. A small celebration.

We hugged.

We were very happy.

Victory is certain! Victory is certain!

The war has changed.

It's no longer a Civil war.

It's now an international conflict.

And it will last for years.

My money run out long time ago.

I'm on my last legs,

I'm barely alive...

I ask you to give me permission to return home.

Good times are ahead, my friend.

I sincerely hope so, Artur.

What's the matter, Ricardo?

Pasaporte.

C'mon, my friend, I know that face.

What's the matter?

I had these students...

asking me about the...

journalism.

When we arrive, we change things.

We do! We do change things.

And you did, Ricardo!

You helped us.

You helped Angola.

Yeah yeah, but...

Ahhh... I know, my friend, I know.

Confuçao.

Thank you for everything.

Boa sorte, camarada.

It is powerful, this Confuçao.

It steals into our hearts.

You cannot beat it.

You can only get through it...

and emerge, exhausted,

satisfied that you managed to survive,

but gathering strength for when it comes again.

Which it will.

It always will.

But even then, it has something

we can grab hold of, to avoid being sucked in.

And that's how you get through it.

Save something.

A memory.

A thought.

A reflection.

I return in my thoughts to those I met then.

What has become of them?

What happened to Artur?

What about the strong, courageous Farrusco?

In the wars against South Africans,

we lost many of our best children.

But justice was done. We had to be there.

We couldn't let them kill us

without defending ourselves.

It was worth it. I'm an accomplished person.

I put a stone in the building

of this nation called Angola.

We won the battle that led our country

to independence.

But on the way, all my ideals were destroyed.

I'm the big loser. Where is the egalitarian society?

Where are my brothers without hunger?

And socialism?

And revolution?

THE WAR LASTED FOR ANOTHER 27 YEARS. TILL 2002. ONE

MILLION PEOPLE WERE DISPLACED. NEARLY 500.000 DEAD.

You must save something if you can.

Because people disappear without a trace...

Completely and irretrievably...

First from the world,

and then from our memory.

I will write.

They will never be forgotten.

They will leave a trace.

They will remain.

I was here.

This is how I looked.

Look at me for a moment,

before you turn to something else.

AFTER RETURNING FROM ANGOLA. RYSZARD

KAPUŚCIŃSKI WROTE "ANOTHER DAY OF LIFE".

HE WROTE AS MANY AS 20 BOOKS.

PUBLISHED IN MORE THAN 30 LANGUAGES.

BUT "ANOTHER DAY OF" LIFE WAS ALWAYS

HIS FAVORITE AND MOST PERSONAL WORK.

KAPUŚCIŃSKI REPORTED DOZENS OF REVOLUTIONS

AND CIVIL WARS IN AFRICA, ASIA AND LATIN AMERICA:

"I KNEW I WAS WITNESSING EVENTS THAT WOULD SHAPE THE

FATE OF HUMANITY FOR GENERATIONS, CENTURIES EVEN:

THE BORNING OF THE THIRD WORLD."

"I IDENTIFY WITH THOSE WHO ARE HUMILIATED

AND OFFENDED, I FIND MYSELF AMONGS THEM.

POVERTY DOES NOT HAVE A VOICE. MY DUTY

IS TO ACHIEVE THAT THEIR VOICE IS HEARD.

THIS IS MY MISSION."

RYSZARD KAPUŚCIŃSKI DIED

IN WARSAW ON JANUARY 23, 2007,.