“You have to go to Delano for that.” That sentence must have been heard countless times in the Hugo Olijfveldhuis on the Zeeburgerdijk in Amsterdam, the home base of the Vereniging Ons Suriname (VOS). Delano Veira, board member since 1993 and later chairman of the association, knew everything, says Twie Tjoa, who was a good friend of his.
She got to know him around 1975 in Paramaribo, where they were both active for the progressive People’s Party and together did the image editing for the party newspaper pipeline. Veira was also involved in Staatsolie, the first Surinamese oil company. Desi Bouterse’s coup and politics were reasons for him to move to the Netherlands in the mid-1980s, where he worked at Getronics as an IT specialist until the beginning of this century.
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He was already the pivot of the VOS, but from that time on he devoted himself full-time to the association and everything that had to do with the history and position of Surinamese in the Netherlands. In the first place he fought for the building on the Zeeburgerdijk, which largely became the property of the association through his actions. It took lawsuits, a lot of patience and a lot, a lot of dedication.
And that was exactly what you had to be at Veira for. ‘He was very steadfast’, says Tjoa, who came to the Netherlands in 1995 and became chairman of the Hugo Olijfveldhuis Foundation, the management foundation of the building where the VOS is housed. “Once he had decided, there was no turning back.” This did not happen with much noise, because Veira was a quiet, closed man outwardly, although he could be very fierce at times.
‘A silent warrior’, according to filmmaker and producer-organizer Vincent Soekra, who joined the association as a volunteer and is the current chairman. His face seemed emotionless, but he definitely wasn’t. He was expectant and had an exceptionally good listening ear with which he understood people flawlessly. ‘Then the door would be wide open or completely closed’, says Soekra. ‘He had faith in someone and then it was okay, or he said: never mind, firewood. He hated charlatans and hot air.’
During discussions about social issues in which he felt involved – state pension gap of Surinamese Dutch, anti-Zwarte Piet – he was eager to write, says Soekra, and when he spoke, his comments were razor-sharp, often fed by a great distrust of governments. He had a perfect antenna to see through their dual political agendas.
He also had that antenna for subjects and themes that were important to the Surinamese community and the association. In 2015, for example, he brought in young people from New Urban Collective, thus laying the foundations for The Black Archives.
Veira was also a historical source himself, with his stories about the freedom struggle in Suriname and Surinamese activists in the Netherlands in the 1960s. He knew it all. From historical events to the keys to the cabinets and the plugs and sockets in the building. He also had time to cook for his family every day, says Soekra.
He was diagnosed with lung cancer two years ago and since then he has mainly been busy transferring his wealth of knowledge about the association and the building. What he would have liked to have experienced was the opening of the Suriname Museum in Amsterdam about Surinamese history and culture, and the complex relationship between the Netherlands and Suriname. If everything goes according to plan, that museum will open its doors on the Zeeburgerdijk on November 25, 2023. Veira won’t be there. He died on 17 May in his hometown of Zaandam, aged 67.