There are maps that refuse to be tamed by GPS. They are lines of dust and voices that refuse silence. To find them, you have to leave the city center, leave behind the asphalt, the buildings, the cafes with Wi-Fi. The path leads towards Marracuene, to the Abel Jafar neighborhood, to where the asphalt ceases without warning. And it is at this point, where the road surrenders to dust, that a creative space nicknamed “Chapa 100” exists.
“Chapa 100” was born from the bold gesture of a group of young people who did not want to wait for ideal conditions, preferring to create them. Jorge Matine, Florinda Mundender, Hélder and João Nhamposse, Eduardo and Aly Matine: names that are not well-known in newspapers, but who raised walls with their own hands and built dreams with the strength of those who believe in the future.
Over time, the community grew, keeping pace with the space. On Thursdays, the media library becomes a refuge for students who find in books a place for research, study, and flight. Fridays and Saturdays are filled with movement: mornings of reading clubs, painting, and, as evening falls, music, theater, and poetry give shape to an improvised stage that transforms, for moments, into the noblest of performance venues. The audience is diverse: neighbors, curious children, “moms” from the bazaar, young people in search of meaning.
Away from the spotlights, without curtains opening in a grand gesture, what exists is an attentive silence, open ears, and applause that is born genuine.
The strength of “Chapa 100” cannot be contained in the statistics of an algorithm; its Instagram account, with a mere 279 followers, attests to this. The space lives and pulsates through the local community that frequents it, in an organic movement of those seeking to reconnect and experience art in its purest form.
Written by: Júlio Magalo
