Maputo, Mozambique – At 7pm on November 4, Maputo’s streets fell into an eerie silence.
Public transportation was at a standstill, adhering to opposition leader Venancio Mondlane’s call for a shutdown.
Then, a steady clanging began. Residents in affluent high rises and inner-city apartment blocks alike joined in a coordinated chorus of a pot-banging protest.
Known as a “panelaco”, this form of protest has emerged as a powerful way to voice frustrations over Mozambique’s disputed general election results, allowing citizens to express dissent without facing the immediate risk of police retaliation. The clatter and clang echoed across the city’s skyline, marking the start of what would become nightly expressions of frustration, uniting residents across class divides.
Since the October 9 elections, the declaration of the ruling Front for the Liberation of Mozambique (Frelimo) presidential candidate Daniel Chapo as the winner has sparked intense discontent. According to the National Election Commission (CNE), Chapo received 71 percent of the vote and Mondlane, an independent candidate, received 20 percent.
Yet even the CNE admitted to “several irregularities”, leading the Constitutional Council to review the election’s integrity.
Mondlane outright rejected the results and proclaimed himself the legitimate winner. Days later on October 19, his attorney Elvino Dias was assassinated, further intensifying public anger over the election results, which many voters do not believe. Dias, a pivotal figure in the legal team challenging the official results, was preparing a case alleging electoral fraud.
‘Voice of the voiceless’
Over the ensuing weeks, Maputo witnessed a series of protests — pot-clanging shows of dissent at night but also calls from Mondlane urging demonstrators to shut down economically vital locations, from Maputo to provincial capitals, ports and key border crossings.
Workers were encouraged to stay away from work, businesses were closed and people gathered to protest in cities across the country.
These calls for intensified shutdowns have turned deadly in several regions. NGOs reported that at least 30 people have been killed since the protests began, including in violent confrontations with police.
The unrest has impacted regional trade, most notably at the Lebombo border post with South Africa, which was temporarily closed due to demonstrations in the nearby town of Ressano Garcia, disrupting a critical route for goods and commuters.
Environmental engineering student Henrique Amilcar Calioio joined protests in Maputo, where young people chanted “power to the people” in Portuguese and were met with tear gas from the police.
“Despite not causing any harm or damage, we had to disperse,” he said.
Calioio subsequently joined in the nightly protests and banged pots and pans as a way of crying out against what he calls an oppressive government.
“It was inspiring to hear people come together for a greater cause,” he told Al Jazeera of the panelaco protests. He said the banging of the pots represents the “voice of the voiceless”.
One evening during the coordinated pot banging, police vehicles drove past the building where Calioio lives and sprayed tear gas that entered homes, including Calioio’s, leaving him in extreme pain.
“It is shocking that even in our homes, we are forbidden from protesting,” he said.
‘Everybody does what Mondlane says’
Shenaaz Jamal, a schoolteacher in Maputo, accused the police of being “very, very heavy-handed”.
She described her daily commutes between home and work under the shadow of military vehicles and police trucks stationed along the city’s main routes.
On days when protesters heed Mondlane’s calls for nationwide shutdowns, she is forced to teach her classes online although this has been challenging due to periodic internet and social media blackouts enforced by the government. Phone signals have also been intermittently interrupted.
“The previous days were chaos,” she recalled. “I could hear gunshots going off. It was crazy. And what frustrates me is that we can’t even communicate. I couldn’t use my phone to call anyone. You can’t tell your family you’re OK.”
Jamal said the protests and the response of Mozambicans – especially the seeming adherence of people to Mondlane’s calls for nationwide shutdowns – are evidence that the formal election results were dubious.
“Everybody does what Mondlane says,” she said.
“The question on everyone’s lips is, if he got only 20 percent and Frelimo won with 70 percent, how come everyone is following what he says?”
‘Strong disenchantment’
Sam Jones, a senior research fellow at the World Institute for Development Economics Research, a part of the United Nations University, believes the protests have deeper socioeconomic roots beyond a single election.
“Mozambique has been plagued by economic stagnation, and people are frustrated,” Jones explained.
“There’s a cumulative sense that the country is not on the right path. We’ve had 10 years of almost no economic growth, and there is strong disenchantment with the ruling elite. Mondlane has managed to effectively connect with young people, mobilising them in a way we haven’t seen before.”
In response, Bernardino Rafael, commander of the Police of the Republic of Mozambique, has condemned the protests as “urban terrorism”, alleging that their intent is to destabilise the constitutional order.
Yet many view the government’s response as disproportionately aggressive. For Jamal, the scenes of unrest have a haunting familiarity. Her parents fled Mozambique more than 30 years ago to escape its civil war, and now she fears similar violence may once again engulf her homeland.
Jones said the state’s response has only intensified the conflict.
“The police have responded forcefully with tear gas, rubber bullets and even live ammunition. In many cases, the violence has stemmed from the brutal responses by security forces, which has only deepened the resentment among protesters.”
Food shortages
The protracted unrest has begun to impact food supplies in Maputo in a country that depends heavily on imports from South Africa.
“There’s anxiety around food shortages because the border region has experienced protests and even border closures on multiple occasions,” Jones said.
Siphiwe Nyanda, South Africa’s high commissioner to Mozambique, acknowledged the cross-border strain, noting that grocery stores in Maputo have experienced shortages directly due to protest-related supply chain disruptions.
“It’s causing serious problems for both Mozambique and South Africa, especially border towns reliant on trade,” he said, adding that the Lebombo border, one of the busiest in the region, serves as a crucial trade route.
“The protests have created a ripple effect that impacts not only local economies but also commuters and daily life in places like [the South African border town] Komatipoort, which depends on Mozambican workers and trade.”
The ongoing crisis has reportedly led to economic losses estimated at 10 million rand ($550,000) per day for South Africa, according to Gavin Kelly, CEO of the South African Road Freight Association.
In Mozambique, more than 150 shops have been vandalised with damage estimated at $369m, further compounding the economic turmoil.
Now, the Southern African Development Community, the 16-nation regional bloc, has scheduled an emergency summit in Harare on Saturday to address the crisis.
Back in Maputo, though, Jones believes the protests have taken on a life of their own — their scale and persistence unusual for Mozambique and an indication of an anger that politicians and diplomats in the country and the region won’t be able to quell easily.
“We’ve seen postelection protests before, but they’ve rarely been this sustained. Typically, after a few days, people get tired, especially when it feels like nothing will change,” he said.
“This time, the participation has been broader and more intense, reflecting not just election grievances but deeper dissatisfaction with the status quo.”
