The Day I met Mauritius
I have rarely done something meaningful for my country. Until a few weeks ago, the best I had helped my country was by picking up a trashed bag of chips from the street and put it in the bin. This country had given everything it could to me - the land on which I rest, the air that clears my lungs and the food calms my soul. I had given it nothing.
On the day the 2024 election results were proclaimed, we all witnessed an unrepresentative effervescence. Something that had not transpired through the fabric of our society for - at least - the years that my generation has lived. The sound of horns, of vuvuzelas, of bells hurtled through the stagnant summer air and broke into every household of the country. Mauritius had never seen so many of its flag being raised and waived in unison.
Even I hung up a flag on my house, daring to call myself Morisyin for the first time in a while. I went out, with friends and family. Roads were jam packed, cars, trucks, caravans galore. People sang, danced and took in the energy that our island had started to emanate through every inch of its soil.
To respect the preponderance in coverage of the political side of that day, I will stick to the intangible truth that we all felt and lived. There is a very specific reason why that day, November 11th 2024, will go down as being a cornerstone of many people’s lives: we witnessed, for the first time, the amount of energy that humans can shift and transform into something beautiful when they act together and in a single voice.
As I drove through the streets of our towns, businesses were thriving, roads became dance floors, and people expressed something that transcends the bounds of realpolitik. We were not really free. We could never be, given we still stuck to the same political establishment set up by our forefathers‘ forefathers. But we expressed another kind of freedom. Amidst all of the happenings from the past months, we somehow managed to find ourselves again.
No words were said, but a million feelings were felt. I saw dogs dressed in our national colors, cars were emblazoning our own red, blue, yellow and green that never looked this good. Music and songs, meticulously crafted, all in the last few days, was filling the streets. Our artists had found a way to jolly up the day with their right words and their undulating rhythms.
I heard people saying they felt young again. People were kissing, hugging and shouting their national anthem as majestically as the lion roars for its kingdom to hear. I shot a number of pictures on that day, and each one of them tells a story.
This day stays as one meant for introspection, for tapping into ourselves and as one of towering respect for the power of the Mauritian people. I look back, everyday, to that day!
I will let some of my photographs do the talking, for they can narrate a far grander story than my words along will ever be able to narrate…
The Day I Met Mauritius, my country.
