People in parts of the Angolan capital, Luanda, are still afraid to talk openly about what happened in July when protests brought part of the city to a standstill and disturbances rocked other provinces too.
What began as a call among taxi drivers to come out against the jump in the price of fuel turned violent over three days with at least 30 people losing their lives and thousands subsequently arrested.
Roads were blocked with burning tyres, shops were looted and clashes erupted between demonstrators and police.
It was one of the most significant waves of protest since the end of the civil war in 2002.
In the run-up to oil-rich Angola marking 50 years of independence from Portugal on 11 November, the demonstrations highlighted continuing concerns about poverty and inequality.
In neighbourhoods where the demonstrations were strongest, few people are willing to speak openly, worried about reprisals or persecution in light of the numerous arrests during and after the protests.
Things may have got a little out of control, but we needed to make that much noise to wake up those in power, a 24-year-old Luanda street vendor, who wanted to remain anonymous, told the BBC.
Having left school before completing secondary education, he now sells soft drinks along Avenida Pedro de Castro Van-Dúnem Loy, one of the capital's busiest thoroughfares, to help support his family.
He is one of the millions here struggling to get by amid the gleaming skyscrapers built by oil money.
For the vendor, joining the first day of protests was a way of showing that we have a voice and that people like him deserve a share of the wealth of the country that is rich for some, but miserable for so many of us.
Youth unemployment has been a major driver of protests in this young country where the median average age is less than 16.
Unemployment among 15-to-24-year-olds stands at 54%, official figures show. Out of the 18 million young people of working age, only three million have jobs in the formal sector - meaning they get regular wages and pay taxes.
In Angola's main cities, the many jobless young people, who are no longer in school, highlight the state's difficulty in meeting their aspirations.
I only sell on the street when I can get enough money to buy the soft drinks, the street vendor said.
There are months when I don't sell anything at all because business is so slow. Me and so many other young people live like this and nobody pays attention to us. That's why we can't stay silent.
Angolan sociologist Gilson Lázaro was not surprised by what happened in July. He believes that those at the heart of the protests were the dispossessed.
These are young people, the majority, who have nothing left but their lives. That is why they took to the streets without fear, he said.