In the quiet lanes of Sao Cosme, Portugal, grief has taken hold of a close-knit community. The tragic loss of Diogo Jota and his brother, Andre Silva, in a car accident has left neighbours and loved ones searching for the right words — and the right memories — to hold on to.
Jota was more than just a footballer to those who knew him best. Behind the goals and the red Liverpool shirt was a boy from a small town who simply loved to play. He didn’t chase cameras. He didn’t crave luxury. His passion for football was pure.
Maria Pereira, 67, has lived next door to Jota’s grandfather for decades. She saw the two brothers grow up. Through her nephew, she shared her heartbreak (via ECHO):
“They were the most humble and beautiful people that we ever have had here in this small town.”
Her sadness echoes across the street, where every corner holds a memory of Jota’s early years. Childhood games in the front yard. Bike rides through the village. FIFA tournaments during summer breaks.
Cosme Oliveira, Maria’s nephew, played in many of those matches. His voice cracked with emotion as he remembered:
“We were just playing for fun. He was never looking for fame or money. He just wanted to play football. He just wanted to play what he liked most.”
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What Diogo Jota’s neighbour say?
Jota’s old neighbour, Carlos Sousa, still keeps the forward’s Liverpool and Wolves shirts on the wall of the local club.
It’s more than decoration — it’s a symbol of pride. His partner, Vanessa, spoke softly about the boy they all watched grow into a star: “He was a very special person. A very empathetic person.”
No matter how far he travelled — from Porto to Atlético Madrid, and finally Liverpool — Jota always came back. He visited his grandparents, shared laughs with cousins, and never lost his grounding.
His cousin Tiago Silva recalled: “When he left for Liverpool, we continued to see doors open up for him. He was a real guy. Not interested in fame, or nothing.”
Even to younger family members, Jota was more than a footballer — he was a hero. Beatriz Bessa, another cousin, remembered cheering him on from their living room: “All the kids, my cousins, my brothers, they look at him as a hero.”
Now, the street where it all began holds onto its memories. Fences broken during backyard matches. Torn shoes. Laughter. And love.
As Cosme summed it up: “They both are the meaning of humble. The passion for football. They never lost their roots here.”
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