In the middle of the Rio de Janeiro night, the Hunchbacked Christ stands, luminous and generous, with outstretched arms. The grandchildren of slaves find refuge beneath those arms.

A barefoot woman looks up at Christ from far below and, pointing at the shining light, says with great sadness:

"He won't be here much longer. I hear they're taking him away."

"Don't worry," the woman next door assures her. "Don't worry: He'll return."

Many people are killed by the police, and many more by the economy. Drums as well as gunshots echo through the violent city: the drums, impatient for consolation and vengeance, call to the African gods. Christ alone is not enough.