Angola's White Street Vendor Makes a Living
He's only been a hawker for six months but he says he makes far more money selling car fresheners and rat poison on the streets than he did in his 15 years as a photographer.
De Silva's family was one of the thousands that migrated from Portugal to Angola to find a better life in this piece of southwest Africa that was once a colony of Lisbon.
It was 1962, De Silva was nine and Angola's economy was taking off. Between 1965 and 1974, it was the fastest growing in the world.
Angolans and Portuguese describe a city overflowing with opportunities despite its inequalities. Old postcards and photos show the colonial pride and splendor of pre-independence Luanda.
These images are hard to fathom in today's Luanda, where a 27-year civil war that started at independence in 1975 has left much of the city at best dilapidated and at worst falling apart.
The end of the conflict last year has not brought fresh opportunities for most Angolans, 70 percent of whom live on less than 70 cents a day.
Around 350,000 Portuguese fled in 1975, but De Silva and his family were among those who stayed on even though most of them got increasingly poorer under the MPLA government, which at the time was officially Marxist.
De Silva's passion for photography was sparked during his teenage years by his older brother who was already in the trade.
Later, he built up his own business which he ran from his home in the once Chic Mianga district of Luanda where he took studio pictures as well as photos of weddings and banquets.
"But I only liked black and white photos. I was passionate about them for many years but when people in Luanda all decided they wanted color pictures, it didn't hold any interest for me, so I stopped doing it," he told Reuters. "I didn't earn very much during the 15 years I took photos. During the one party state and the cold war, photography didn't bring in much business." __ "A Man of 20 Professions" ---
To survive he became, in his words, a "man of 20 professions".
He has worked as a waiter, a driver, in a bank and on an oil rig. Street-selling is just another job, he says -- one that he happens to be very good at.
His disarming smile quickly catches the attention of drivers stuck in traffic or queuing up for petrol. Then, like a magician, it takes him seconds to delve into his bag and produce what seems like an endless stream of goods.
But De Silva chooses his clients carefully -- Angolans buy more than foreigners, men more than women and there is no point trying to sell car products to a driver who doesn't own the vehicle.
The best time to make money is at the weekend when the chauffeur is off work and the car owner is relaxed and making his way to the beach.
He may be a good businessman, but De Silva is just one of thousands of Luanda's "Zungueiros" -- men and women who make their living selling goods on the streets. And whereas he says he earns an average of $1,500 per month, most say they earn less than $100. So what is the secret of his success?
"I buy things very cheaply and I sell them very expensively. For instance, I can buy a car perfume for 150 kwanzas ($2.30) and sell it for 900 kwanzas ($13.85) ... and then the art is all in the communication," he confides.
Pointing to the white skin of his arm, he says "I think this counts for a lot too".
He says his color may also explain why he has not been a target for Luanda's new fiscal police force which has been chasing away and fining street sellers and sometimes demanding bribes or confiscating their goods.
Although business is booming, De Silva's personal life has been stormy in recent times. All his belongings were stolen a year ago and since then he and his Angolan wife have been living at his brother's home in a working class neighborhood.
His wife is sick and his eight-year-old daughter 0livia is living with her grandmother who lives in a shabby house at the back of the state university.
"My priority is getting my home back together. I can't speak about the future further than this. I'm a bit unhappy because I'm working so hard to support my family, my wife, my daughter. At the same time, I'm positive by nature so I'm also trying to be happy.
"But I'd better get back to work now," he says. Spotting a flashy new 4x4 driven by a seemingly well-off man, De Silva turns on his heels, flashes his smile and is back in business.