11 N°IV 2024 MuseoMag EXHIBITION on their own. They are spontaneous and unverifiable snippets, and yet they are an important contribu- tion to the study and understanding of the events they refer to. The most important contribution of this personal story lies not in its (missing) facts, but in what it tells us about what abuse of power looks like in concrete terms, what arbitrary persecutions in a war-torn or in a dictatorial post-war Angola meant in practice and how they shaped people’s lives. More importantly, we learn how this event impacted the father and the next generation(s): it was handed down and made a strong impression in the son’s mind. This post-memory is so vivid that, when confronted with the history of post-colonial Angola on the museum walls, he spontaneously shared it with his classmates, who apparently had never heard it be- fore. By sharing this family memory during the visit, he added to a different kind of knowledge about that place and time. The confessional nature of memories can contribute to a more concrete knowledge about what it feels like and how it is to live and be caught in the politics of war and dictatorship that arbitrarily persecutes and imprisons people. MY MEMORY INVITES YOUR MEMORY At the same time, the memories shared by one person prompt others to share their memories too. “I know my grandfather was a prisoner in a Gulag, but he never talked about it,” an adult confided, proving that memories of one injustice do not over- shadow or compete with other traumatic memories, but may even help to bring them back to life. Thus, the violence in Angola creates space for a violent memory of the Soviet Union to surface that still lives in a grandchild’s mind. Personal mnemonic accounts can challenge and even contradict an established narrative about historical events. Memories that relate to silenced, unacknowledged, even denied suffering can shed additional light on history. This is often the case with the memories of individuals belonging to a group, ethnicity or nation who were the perpetrators or at least certainly not victims. “We were born and lived all our lives in Africa. And then they kicked us out!” We often hear this or similar statements from the so-called returnees from Portugal’s African colonies. Individually, some may think they have done no harm, but they are still implicated in the exploitation and racism of the colonial project. They, too, have traumatic memories, as they had to leave their lives and possessions behind, fleeing the violence that