LUANDAGUIDE · CITY ANNIVERSARY
Luanda turns four hundred and fifty
Celebration, memory, and the deeper timeline beneath the city
Luanda is marking four hundred and fifty years. The city is celebrating. But this celebration tells only part of a much older story.
A note on perspective
Luanda, as a city, is four hundred and fifty years old. That is what is being celebrated. But the land, the people, and the societies that existed here long before that moment carry a much deeper timeline.
In the sixteenth century, the Portuguese arrived on this coast and founded the city under the name São Paulo da Assunção de Luanda. What they encountered, however, was not an empty or disorganised land.
This territory was already inhabited, known, and deeply integrated into the lives of local populations. The island, today known as Ilha de Luanda, was mainly used for fishing and salt extraction, an extremely valuable resource at the time.
Salt was essential for food preservation and trade, and controlling it meant wealth, influence, and power. On the mainland, there were organised settlements with well-defined social, political, and economic structures.
This region fell within the sphere of influence of the Kingdom of Ndongo, a powerful political entity governed by rulers who exercised authority over vast territories.
The title of these rulers was ngola, and it is from this title that the name Angola originates.
Life in this territory was deeply connected to nature and to the rhythms of land and water. There was agriculture, fishing, and trade between communities. Knowledge systems were transmitted orally, and the relationship with the land was not merely economic, but also social, spiritual, and symbolic.
The bay was not just a beautiful landscape. It was a place of survival, work, and connection.
When the Portuguese arrived four hundred and fifty years ago, they did not establish themselves solely through direct military imposition. They traded with local populations and often took advantage of rivalries that already existed between different groups.
Political alliances and economic strategies played a crucial role in their presence. The bay offered natural shelter for ships, facilitated maritime trade, and allowed control over access by sea.
For centuries, Luanda grew around this port, becoming an administrative and commercial centre and a key point in Atlantic trade routes, a history that also includes extremely violent and traumatic chapters.
And since Luanda is celebrating, I could not miss the chance to show you this
Let’s take a walk. Explore the bay, the light, the city’s rhythm, and the cultural programme that is filling Luanda with energy.
What we today call art did not exist in the same way in precolonial societies. There was no concept of art created merely for decoration or aesthetic pleasure. Creative expression was inseparable from life itself.
Sculpture was never just about appearance. It was about power, memory, and connection to ancestors. Many pieces represented authority, protection, or spiritual forces.
Masks were used in rituals, ceremonies, and key moments in community life. When someone wore a mask, they ceased to be merely an individual and became a spirit, an ancestor, or a symbolic presence. Dance, sound, and masks worked together.
Textiles, patterns, and basketry were never random. Designs operated like a visual language, communicating belonging, social status, memory, and knowledge. A form of writing without letters.
Music and dance were at the heart of everything. There was no clear division between performers and audience. The whole community participated. Instruments were used to communicate, to heal, to celebrate, and to mark transitions in life.
Art was also deeply linked to political power. Authority without symbols was unthinkable. Objects, insignias, and aesthetics reinforced legitimacy and identity.
One of the most striking aspects of traditional Angolan societies was the importance of ancestors. They were not perceived as absent, but as active presences, protectors of the family, the village, and the land.
Life was organised into clearly defined stages: birth, initiation into adulthood, marriage, and death. Each stage was marked by rituals, music, dance, and teachings transmitted by elders.
Elders held a central role. They were guardians of collective memory, mediators of conflict, and advisers to leaders. Respect came from accumulated knowledge, not force.
Traditional authority, such as that of the soba, functioned very differently from modern assumptions. The soba did not govern alone or through coercion. Authority was rooted in lineage, land, and ancestral legitimacy, and exercised through councils that included elders and other respected figures.
In many cases, women from the lineage exerted real influence in decision-making, even without formally holding leadership positions. Sobas still exist today, although their role has evolved over time.
Land was not considered private property, but a communal and spiritually meaningful entity. Cultivating or occupying land involved rituals, respect for sacred spaces, and clear collective boundaries.
Music, dance, and the spoken word were never separate. Dance was language. Music organised social life. Words carried power. Participation was collective.
Healing followed the same integrated logic. It addressed not only the body, but also the spirit, relationships, and social harmony.
At the core of all these traditions lies a powerful sense of community. The collective came before the individual. Function came before appearance.
And perhaps one of the most striking realisations is this: before the colonial period, many societies in this region operated with a more balanced worldview than we often imagine. Power was not concentrated in a single person, nor exclusively in men.
Celebrating Luanda is also about recognising the depth, complexity, and continuity of the land it stands on.