Bruna da Silva Melo: The First Angolan Undergraduate Student at Brown University

It was a Wednesday, I remember. It was mid-October in Luanda — the sun pierced through and warmed my face. No clouds, clear blue sky. It was a beautiful day, I remember. It was my first day of school. I had just moved back to Angola. 

That was in 2017. Truthfully, I do not remember the fine details about my first day. But recently, I have reflected (more than is likely advisable) about the thirteen year old that walked into her new school: ambivalent, apathetic about her Angolan roots after a childhood abroad; and who I see in the mirror now: someone unequivocally sure about her purpose in this life — service. 

I am the first Angolan undergraduate at Brown University. And whilst it has caused me some agony, it has also brought me immense purpose. Agony — because I have been starved of the sense of community that is so dear to Angolan culture. Our Saturday lunches over feijão de óleo de palma and cacusso, whilst Yuri da Cunha blasts through the speaker. Uncles, friends, cousins dragging me from my seat to dance Kizomba with them. Endless jokes and laughter and joy. Ceaseless dancing and laughing and scheming. Felicidade in its purest form. It has, therefore, felt like agony to crave um cacusso fresco — but have no one to share the salivation with. To jump from excitement about the nearby Tito Paris concert — but have no one to share the glee with. To laugh ardently at a cultural reference — but have not a soul that echoes the laughter. And perhaps I am dramatic; I confess that I most likely am. But that does not make this any less true. It is hard. I suppose that is what happens when one is the first. 

Enough of the agony, however. As a fellow classmate once asked me: “You are the first. What are you going to do about it?” At that moment, I looked at him in shock. No one had ever asked me that before. It sounds simple, obvious even. But it was those words that undressed my agony and redressed it as purpose. That happened at the start of my second-year of college. Since then, much of my time at Brown has been committed to diversity within the African community. It is not just about increasing awareness about Angola — I am not alone in this boat. There are other African students who are one of three, one of two, or alone from their country. No one should feel cultural solitude, not just me. 

Last year, I served as an executive officer of the Brown African Students’ Association. In preparation for our annual African Cultural Show, I advocated for the inclusion of Cape Verdean and Angolan food. I still remember the smile on the face of my Cape Verdean friend when she saw that cachupa was on the menu. We exchanged stares and I mouthed to her in Portuguese, “Fiz por ti, amiga, por nós todos.” Her smile was a testament that cultural representation does matter. 

Today, I am the Chair of the Brown Africa Initiative Student Advisory Board. It is an academic initiative under the Watson Institute for International and Public Affairs whose goal is to advance African scholarship at Brown and develop the next generation of African leaders. As Chair, I collaborate with the other board representatives to influence the Initiative’s academic direction and event execution. Many of our coming events I cannot speak about, but ultimately, I only hope that they will be defined by cultural inclusion. Yes — Angola to the world. But the entirety of Africa to the world, too. 

I wrote earlier that I do not recall much about my first day back in Angola — and that is true. But I do remember the sentiment of ambivalence. Now, I chuckle. Things could not be more different. It took a bit of agony to shape me into who I am today: someone overflowing with a sense of purpose to serve my people. It has been difficult; I will not mislead you. Yet, for some reason unbeknownst to me, I have been given the privilege to set the path for the next Angolan student at Brown. It would be a shame to waste that. This life, as I have come to understand it, is about something greater than myself. 

Bruna da Silva Melo