Frontline Kuito, Angola: Lingering agony of a people ravaged by years of war

THE CAR parts showroom is one of the few buildings still standing in the main street of Kuito: opposite, the former municipal court is an overgrown ruin; on either side houses and shops, destroyed by mortar shells, are little more than mounds of twisted concrete and iron bars.

The showroom, known to everyone in town as Casa Ford, is open for business. The 1950s building is stacked with neat rows of dusty fanbelts and ancient carburettors, but there are few customers. Those wealthy enough to afford cars in Kuito used them to drive away from town years ago.

Kuito has been on the frontline of Angola's civil war for nearly 20 years. The once-beautiful colonial town is in the Angolan highlands, an area traditionally loyal to the rebel leader Jonas Savimbi's National Union for the Total Independence of Angola (Unita). The town was virtually razed four years ago during 18 months of fighting which killed one-third of Kuito's population and split the town into two halves, divided by the main street. In its prime retail position Casa Ford was caught in the crossfire. While the owner, his family and 500 neighbours cowered inside, Unita soldiers, camped in front of the showroom, bombarded government forces who held the area behind it.

Olegario Cardoso, Casa Ford's owner, is a gentle, prosperous- looking man in his fifties who has lived in Kuito all his life. Unlike many of his friends, he has never been tempted to leave. With eight children and a 94-year-old father who still works in his shop, he believes moving would be impossible.

As he wandered around his cavernous showroom, his memories prompted by the bullet holes and bomb damage which still disfigure the walls and furniture, Mr Cardoso described the months when Casa Ford was home to 500 people.

A gaping hole in the wall facing the street marks the place where one shell hit the building and went through three concrete beams before falling through a set of steel shelving and fragmenting on the floor. Nobody was injured but a bullet hole on the concrete floor by the showroom door tells a sadder story. "We kept the door open all the time,' said Mr Cardoso. "A Unita sniper used to shoot at anyone who tried to cross the road, so we let them run inside to shelter." One day, as a man ducked into the building, a bullet hit the doorway, sending concrete fragments flying. One hit a small boy, killing him instantly. Like many townspeople who died during the siege, the boy was buried in a patch of wasteland behind the showroom, now overgrown with wild flowers. "It was too dangerous to try to get to the cemetery," explained Mr Cardoso.

Hunger claimed Casa Ford's other casualties. Mr Cardoso's wood-panelled office became a makeshift hospital where dozens of people died of starvation. There was no food in the city during the fighting and Unita would not allow United Nations food drops for at least nine months.

These days there is plenty of food in Kuito but few other indications that the town is no longer on the frontline. Everything is makeshift and temporary, as though the inhabitants expect it to be blown away at any moment. There are no shops, or even market stalls. Instead, women sit behind scraps of cloth on the ground, selling piles of bananas, limes, or a single chicken, unplucked and freshly killed.

Buildings have been temporarily patched up. Breezeblocks, corrugated iron or even the rusted metal wrecks of cars replace glass in the windows and fill holes in the walls. Families cook on open fires inside their houses, or outside on the veranda. Former flower gardens are now planted with maize, which is kept permanently stockpiled. Electricity in the town is haphazard, most schoolchildren have no books and hospitals are kept open by international aid organisations.

The people's pessimism appears justified. Few have faith in a UN- brokered peace agreement between the government and Unita, and the government recently threatened to strike against Savimbi's forces, which are 60 miles from Kuito. Government weapons can be seen at Kuito's small airport and there are rumours of imminent military action. Mr Cardoso has grown used to life on the frontline. Four years after the war officially ended, he still awaits the peace.