Five years ago, at the end of the country's bitter civil war, the outlook for Mozambique seemed very bleak indeed. The battle-scarred country was branded Africa's poorest state, a humanitarian catastrophe with little hope of ever reclaiming its former glory as the "pearl of Africa".
But now, just three years after the country's democratic elections, a very different picture appears to be emerging. For one thing, the economy boasts increasingly healthy statistics. Although accurate figures are hard to come by, growth for this year is put at about 6 per cent, with an estimated 7-8 per cent rate expected for the next two years.
Foreign investment appears to be increasing, with nearly $500 million coming into the country over the last 10 years and potential projects totalling an estimated $6 billion currently under consideration. Exports increased by up to 30 per cent last year, while inflation fell from 54 per cent in 1995 to 16.6 per cent last year. The government has also privatised about 700 state bodies, a move which it claims has dramatically cut down on corruption and improved efficiency. An amazing 90 per cent of these sales have been to Mozambican entrepreneurs although approximately 50 per cent of the equity amount represented in the sales is foreign.
The World Bank has already recommended that Mozambique benefit from the status of a Highly Indebted Poor Country as soon as it works out its repayments to Russia. This status, which could take effect by mid-1999, would ensure a substantial write-off (about a quarter, or $1.5 billion) of the country's crippling debt on the grounds of its good economic performance over the last three years.
Organisations such as the World Bank are delighted and claim their policy of stringent financial control has paid off and the country is finally on the road to recovery. Simon Bell, the bank's economic expert, says the transformation over the last three years has been incredible. "Mozambique is probably one of the most successful adjustment stories of Africa," he maintains.
Certainly in the capital, Maputo, the signs of wealth are abundant. In the ostentatious Polano hotel, which towers above the sea, a mere $235 dollars will secure you a standard room in the main building for the night. The Cardoso hotel, overlooking the estuary, boasts similar prices and businessmen and foreign visitors mill around the marble coffee bars and glittering lounges, largely oblivious to their external surroundings. Mercedes Benz cars tour the streets with tinted windows and Land Rovers are parked outside posh restaurants where the prices can hold their own with their South African equivalents. On a Saturday evening, one of the city's newest middle-market restaurants was packed full of Mozambicans ready to pay over $60 dollars for a meal for two. Construction sites are springing up throughout the city, tucked in beside the communist-style concrete blocks that house the majority of the citizens and the Portuguese villas which date back to colonial rule.
BUT despite these appearances and whatever the economic indicators may say, there is another side to Maputo and the country that is difficult to ignore. The smell at the same city market is close to sickening and there are piles of uncollected rubbish at every street corner. Street kids with skinny legs and faces full of sores push tiny painted crafts into your face, haggling for about $1.
Others - often landmine victims - with burns on their arms and some without legs or hands adopt the pleading, silent face of begging children across the world. Outside the imposing white walls of the Polano, street children playing in the dirt are moved on by the uniformed guards. Banged-up old cars dating back 30 years compete with four-wheel-drives as they sputter by the magnificent embassies which grace the same road. The gap between rich and poor could not be more startling.
In a colonial residential area, houses which still show a spark of their former glory are now home to several families at once. Mediterranean ceramic tiles peep out from underneath the flaking paintwork and the barricades growing up around them. Rats lie dead on the road as the children play around the rubbish dumped unceremoniously at the corner and women cook on the side of the pavements.
Empty buildings pockmark the city, many deserted by would-be investors after independence. Walking near the train station, the streets are deserted, buildings are crumbling and locals endure the presence of drug-dealers, prostitutes and pimps on a daily basis. Nearby, bridal parties pick their way over rubbish to take photographs in a park overgrown with grass and reeking of urine. Eating lunch in a terrace cafe, children selling plastic packets of cashew nuts pass by pleadingly. Waiters have holes in their shirts and tears in their trousers. In fact the average per capita income in Mozambique is about $95 a year. Real poverty is also evident in the rural areas. There is at least a 67 per cent illiteracy rate and the country has the highest level of infant mortality in southern Africa. Dependency on international aid remains dangerously high, accounting for over 70 per cent of GDP and over 50 per cent of the government's budget.
And yet, coming from South Africa, the country is wonderfully refreshing. Black and white mix with an ease which would be remarkable anywhere. Children of all shades play with each other on the beaches. At night their parents wander the streets in relative safety. And there is a palpable excitement, at least in the city. The feeling is upbeat. And with good reason. Just recently, a trade delegation from the US visited the country with representatives from top companies such as Motorola and Citibank. Before that, 25 high-ranking British business people explored the investment possibilities. South African investors are increasing their presence every year. Alusaf alone plans a massive investment in the country, equivalent to the country's national income of about $1.3 billion.
Without a doubt, there is a long way to go. What's more, the trickle effect may well take even longer. It may be that the phoenix has not yet flapped its wings, but for a country emerging from the ashes, the signs would seem very encouraging indeed.