(This is Part II of a two-part series on Cape Verde, a small African nation which defied expectations at 2026 FIFA World Cup. Read the first part here.)
On the drive back, the east coast offered sterner company: volcanic cliffs to our right, the Atlantic raging to our left, as if both wanted to see which one of them could frighten us first. We passed banana plantations—green, orderly, and optimistic—before rolling through another township so quiet that even the herd of goats parading in black, brown, and white, their long wears flapping lazily with each step, seemed to whisper. The sea grew wilder, battering the rocks with fury.
Passing a village school, I asked Lindo how many of his countrymen were educated.
“You see, my friend, Cape Verde is a country where everyone lines up for schooling. But the clever ones don’t stay. We educate them, polish them, and then—poof!—they are gone. By some counts, two-thirds of our highly educated people live abroad. Doctors, teachers, engineers—America is full of Cape Verdeans with diplomas.”