According to Eric Schmidt, the former chairman of Google, we now create as much information in two days as humanity did from the dawn of civilization until 2003, and the exponential growth of the newly generated data cannot but affect our relations with the world and ourselves. Photography, once driven by the desire to capture fleeting moments and preserve memory, is not on the right side, either. Memory externalization — a trend that describes our reliance on devices we delegate the storing function of our brains, — the rise of attention economy, digital amnesia and the Google effect… Seems like forgetting has never been easier.

At the same time, the vast visual archives now available at our fingertips present new opportunities for counter-memory activism. Since throughout history, the subjects chosen to be photographed—whether with cameras or phones—have captured far more than smiling faces, leisure activities, or milestone family gatherings. Photography has always been about values. Every time a photographer decides what to include in the frame, they are also making a choice about what to leave out.

Délio Jasse’s series "The Lost Chapter: Nampula, 1963" is one of the 23 projects by African and African diaspora artists currently exposed in "C/O Berlin" impressive exhibition "A Word in Common" curated by Osei Bonsu and Cale Garrido. These define the core inspiration behind the show as referring to the philosophy of Cameroonian scholar Achille Mbembe, who calls to imagine "a world in common" by "thinking the world from Africa." "Over one hundred works challenge the western-oriented conception of the world, exploring alternative historical narratives that are deeply rooted in the diverse experiences, philosophies, and knowledge systems of the African continent," says the official press release.

In line with his artistic style which involves work with vintage images, in "The Lost Chapter" Luanda born Milan-based Délio Jasse presents his reinterpretation of an anonymous 1960s archive. Found at the Feira da Ladra flea market in Lisbon, the album in the center of the research documents the everydayness of a privileged Portuguese family in Nampula, Mozambique—back then under Portuguese rule. But, apart from the hundreds of images in the boxes acquired during that visit, Jasse also discovered many old documents—later they would allow him to piece together fragments of the family’s identity and movements. Cross-referencing the prints against the official paperwork (bank stamps, both official and personal correspondence) and clues related to the photographic process (photographic studios stamps), the photographer would make assumptions about the life of European colonizers. But not only about it.

To make his conceptual point, Délio Jasse developed a distinctive analogue process. The resulting body of work combines reproductions of original archival images with bureaucratic "artefacts" screen-printed on top. "It gave me the ability to play with different layers and different colors. These visually translated all the meaning and complexity of an image that depicts life in the colonies. At first view, the images look simple and almost idyllic, and my intervention seeks to show how it was no paradise," Jasse comments on his choice of medium in one of the interviews.

In 2014, reviews of Jasse’s first solo exhibition in Cape Town, South Africa, compared his work to a palimpsest—a metaphor the artist embraced, explaining that one of his artistic intentions is to "allow time for the hidden messages to reveal themselves." Reflecting on the superimposed physical and conceptual layers of "The Lost Chapter: Nampula, 1963", one can appreciate how seamlessly the work highlights broader issues of privilege and inequality—extending far beyond the colonial era.

The bureaucratic machine, which functions according to rules known only to the privileged, speaks its own language—of documents, bills, permits, and passports. The stamps and credentials it produces are symbols of power. Their colorful, geometric designs with official dates and names of institutions may appear childishly naïve at first glance. But, as evidenced in the archive of a Portuguese settler’s family, these documents opened doors to rich housing, travel and leisure, cementing their status and celebrating freedom.

One cannot help but ask: what was left out of the frame?

In the 1960s, Mozambique under Portuguese colonial rule was characterized by deep systemic inequality, forced labor, repression, and growing resistance. While Portuguese settlers enjoyed access to land, jobs, education, and secure housing, the majority of the African population lived in poverty. By 1970, only 7.7% of Mozambique’s population was literate.

The official documentation attributed to this family attests to their high status and the privileges it conferred. But the bright stamps also represent the silencing of those deprived of even the most basic rights, including the right to be seen. However, this dark chapter—shared not only by Mozambique but by many countries across the globe, colonized, repressed, and destabilized—speaks in the layered visual language that "interpreters of history" like Délio Jasse are committed to keeping alive.

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