"Fernandez, are you really not going to reconsider and choose to stay in East Africa?"
On the dock at the port of Maputo, Eusébio said to his friend Fernandez, who had come to see him off.
Fernandez took a puff of his cigarette, inhaled deeply, and frowned as he said, "Even if we return home now, what's the difference? Moreover, Portugal's situation might not be much better than Mozambique's. I heard the government owes a lot of debt after the war, and the economy could be dragged down in the future. Now, so many people are returning home, I fear it's hard to find a job. So it's better to stay in Mozambique. After all, over the years, I've developed some affection for this land."
Rather than affection, one should say he got used to staying in Mozambique, like a prisoner confined in jail for so long that they become disconnected from society. This was pretty much Fernande's current situation.
