A few years ago, I was traveling through Angola researching a film about a railway when I stopped at the only cafe that served a decent cup of coffee in the bombed-out former capital, Huambo. A young man in a blue button down oxford shirt and tiny dread locks waved me over. I sat with him for a while and chatted. We talked about what I was doing there and I asked him about himself. He said he was a musician. Oh really? I asked, what do you play? He looked me right in the eye and said, “Death Metal.” Stunned, I asked him if he would play for me. He got very excited, said he’d find an amplifier somewhere and that I should meet him later that night at “the Orphanage,” and slipped me the address. I assumed it was some sort of club. However when I arrived in the middle of the night at what seemed like an abandoned milk factory in the middle of nowhere, it was clear that this was no club. There he was, Wilker Flores, the young man in a blue oxford, with tiny dreads and an electric guitar, surrounded by 55 orphaned boys who called this place home. Syphoning electricity from the neighbor, Wilker proceeded to play one of the hardest and harshest impromptu concerts imaginable, lit by nothing more than the head lights of van. It was absolutely magical and terrifying and it marked the beginning of my long and profound relationship with Wilker, as well as the woman who runs the Orphanage, Sonia Ferreira, who is one of the most remarkable people I have met in my life. I have never seen anything like this place and never met anyone like these people. This has truly been one of the deepest, life altering experiences I’ve ever had. The tremendous power, bravery and grace that these people embody lies at the very heart of this film, DEATH METAL ANGOLA.
Death Metal Angola
