Madalena never expected to be here today, about to spend a year and a half presiding over a parish that includes almost a hundred different nationalities and that has been in the hands of the PS since its foundation. Born in Mozambique to an African mother and Portuguese father, social judge returned in 1977 and arrived in Lisbon at the age of two, grew up in a slum – “that was all that Parque da Bela Vista is today and, despite that it’s poor, I had a quiet childhood,” he recalls wistfully. And he explains: “We had shoes, but they were from the fair – recently we remembered among friends that when we needed better shoes, we went to Rosa Branca, on Morais Soares. I never went hungry, but if we wanted running water, they had to. If you get the neighbors together and take care of it, people help each other a lot in the community. We were all poor, but we always had something to share. It was an incredible spirit.”
With a genuine smile on his face, he recounts those times, sitting at the restaurant table of the 1908 Lisboa Hotel, which was established in one of the previously dilapidated buildings in Largo do Intendente, now the pride of the people of Arroios. The design of the classic Art Nouveau building has been retained and blends perfectly with the contemporary design that paints the decor, where even works by Bordallo bring life to the walls. “It was a new couple who opened this, very friendly and good vibes,” he tells me as I praise the colorful fruit table (papaya, melon and grapes), cheeses and sausages, bread, croissants and pastries, with orange juice, coffee and tea. There’s even brunch on Sundays, tailor-made for the tourists, especially Nordic tourists, who gather there, attracted by the multiculturalism of the neighbourhood, where conversations can be heard in a plethora of languages.
“It is a very large parish,” writes Madalena Natividade, demonstrating her knowledge as mayor as she lists the parish’s supposed population of 32,000, which adds up to a reality of 50,000 people, many of them immigrants from neighboring Santa Maria Maior. “Only 400 Timorese came to Lisbon at a time and stayed on the streets or in tents,” he says, explaining a problem sometimes exacerbated by activists advising them not to leave the streets because it is the duty of the city to give them a to give at home. Madalena says the limitations of her childhood serve her for what she lives today, giving her baggage, strength and motivation to look for solutions. “There are people who make dramas for nothing and don’t know what a problem is. I know how to put it into perspective.” And that’s an advantage along with usability.
“We are trying to resolve matters, in talks with the National Center for Supporting the Integration of Migrants (CNAIM), with the SEF and the PJ… so that the situation does not get worse. Because many want to work, but cannot because they do not have a NIF and are not registered with social security.” Madalena believes the recent movement to regularize documentation can help. In addition to the housing program of the city – she is waiting for the results of a survey of vacant buildings in her parish, which she wants to rehabilitate to meet these cases, but also to monitor projects such as the intergenerational center, kindergarten, sports hall for the little ones.
Anticipate what you can do now as chairman of the board. “As a social worker, working with people with alcoholism, I already had a connection with the council, but I had no idea how much work this entailed,” he confesses.
“Look, I won the joint!”
“Election night was incredible,” recalled Madalena Natividade. “The polls closed at 7:20 pm, then I received calls that I had won, without believing it was true. The Friday before, I had said goodbye to my director until Monday, and I had to call her to say that anyway. I would for the time being can’t go back,” he laughs. “In the campaign I had good barometers, people showed they wanted change, they didn’t want people there who weren’t interested, but I never thought that was possible. In fact, when I got to HQ at 8pm, the graphics still showed me losing, but suddenly it turned around and I called the family and said, “Look, I won the gasket!””
It’s not pride, it’s recognition that shows, for those who voted for her, and feels grateful for those who trusted her to do things differently, better. Her brand wants her to be the “president who worked for the people, who is there for the people every day,” she insists. And this is best achieved in this power of closeness. “We’re closer, we’re able to understand concretely what people need. And there are simple things we can provide that transform lives,” he says, illustrating with the lady who received a water heater and a shower again and looking for a job or family finally has a mattress to sleep on.
There are also more complex problems, which require a coordinated approach with other institutions: “50,000 people litter, there are situations of violence, noise, but if we all row in the same direction, if we manage to work together, there are always solutions Most complicated, he guarantees, is the priority he takes to keep employees, many of whom have been working there for decades, motivated. “I do my best to see if they can change their environment, do other tasks, I push them as best I can,” he says.
The girl who would become “justice”.
She is the new incarnation of the girl who wanted to be “some sort of vigilante”. “I felt like I had something to give to the community, but I always saw myself as a social worker, or a lawyer, or a judge… politics never crossed my mind.” At the age of 14, she even thought about journalism, but her father’s fear of imagining her in war scenarios diverted her from that path and eventually took her to a social service of Santa Casa da Misericórdia.
He has no memories of his life in Tete, where his grandfather was a chief and a village named after him still exists, Matambo, reaching the Songo (where the Cahora Bassa Dam is located). And what she saw during the holidays that brought her back to the country where she lived for the first two years of her life, in 2000, to see her grandfather again, did not convince her. “My family there still has a good life, good conditions – the grandfather, like a good African of the time, married his daughters with Portuguese, to make sure they had the best – but it confused me to having people to serve me and that extreme poverty, corruption… I couldn’t see myself living there,” he sums up. Still, he admits that he dreams of a social project in Mozambique when he retires, aimed at teenagers, to give them more tools.
His father, 24 years older than his mother, was in Mozambique for the Air Force, where he trained, and it was there that his two older brothers, Madalena and younger sister, were born, one every other year. The six came to Lisbon in the wave of returnees, to be sure that they could have more here than there, even though the mother had to clean between 6 and 9 o’clock in addition to the father’s work. Going to school was arranged by the eldest, who left the sisters at Colégio Menino de Deus and then went to public school with his brother, all nearby. “A very happy childhood.”
She was already married – her husband of 25 years and father of Martim, 19, an air conditioning technician, was her brother’s best friend – and while working she decided to go ahead with the project to take a social action course. “I didn’t want to be an SCML administrator all my life,” he explains, but the only public course was in the Azores, so he had to wait a few years to see the course open and enter in Lusofona. The course had just started and there were 13 people, only one of whom was a man. “And it was fantastic because we had a lot of attention, a brutal training. It was a unique opportunity and we still have a bond with each other and even with the teachers.” He completed the internship at the Hospital do Desterro and a handful of years later he succeeded in entering the Portuguese anti-alcohol association. The calling he would dedicate himself to for 11 years had been found.
“They still tell me today that they have my place waiting there. I reply that it won’t be possible for the next two and a half years, but I’m glad they like me.” Without the “unexpected invitation” in a time of “unrepeatable circumstances”, he probably would not have embarked on this adventure. “I never studied and was never involved in politics, except for an experience that went very badly with the start of the Marinho e Pinto party – I didn’t identify with that,” he explains, adding that his entire family, including them, identifies more with the parent company Christian Democrat. Perhaps that is why, although he could never have foreseen Diogo Moura’s (CDS) invitation to him, he finally accepted. “The Novos Tempos por Arroios coalition was looking for a candidate profile: female, non-white, socially and politically independent.” It was Magdalena’s portrait. “I didn’t know about this,” he says, despite having the most important competence for the position he held, when he won by 488 votes and Arroios won: “The most important thing is to work for the people, to be there to ensure their well-being of them.”
That’s exactly why he’s fought and with some supposed conquests. How it was possible to house the people in 32 tents – Algerians, Moroccans, East Timorese, etc. – at the door of the Igreja dos Anjos. “We all sat down at the table: SEF, Migrações, PJ, PSP Municipal Police, CML, board and associations. And we all looked at what everyone could give and do. We sent papers, letters distributed and now we are rehabilitating the garden. Those people have heard and the customers are going to get a beautiful garden.”
The ensuing battle is nonsense, heaped up by culture and bad habits – some stem from covid fears. “We have prepared a campaign with community members of six nationalities, including Portuguese, Bangladeshi, Chinese, etc., to raise awareness of the need to properly dispose of waste,” explains Madalena.
What will be your legacy at the end of time? “I want to make a strong mark on intergenerationality. Working with extremes is super productive for the community, it helps the elderly and the children immensely and ultimately draws everyone together. It’s like community theatre: everyone in the family participates, from seamstress grandmother to the father who builds stages, past those who carry the snacks.” And is it prepared, if necessary, to extend the mandate in 2025? “Now that… I don’t even know how the week will end,” he laughs.
Source: DN
