Almost five months ago to the day, Angola's president, Mr Eduardo dos Santos, was on a high. In early December, Angola's Armed Forces (FAA) launched an offensive against the UNITA rebels' headquarters at Andulo and Bailundo.
The attack was supposed to be short and sweet. It coincided with the governing MPLA party's annual congress in the capital, Luanda. The aim was that by the time the ruling party's yearly talkfest was through, the MPLA flag would be waving in the heart of UNITA's former strongholds. Unfortunately for Mr Dos Santos, the plan back-fired.
Within a matter of weeks, the two sides had resorted to doing what they both know best: warring. All the negotiations, agreements and compromises that had been so carefully crafted since the signing of the Lusaka peace protocol in 1994 were swiftly washed away. The albeit paper-thin trust that had been built up between the two leaders, Mr Dos Santos and Mr Jonas Savimbi, vanished.
Worse still, the hopes of the Angolan people, already battered and brutalised by over two decades of civil war, were shattered.
The war began in the mid-1970s following the withdrawal of the Portuguese. The MPLA was supported by the Soviet Union and UNITA was supported by China and the CIA.
In hindsight, it seems extraordinary that Mr Dos Santos and his personally selected MPLA elite could ever have imagined that UNITA could be quashed so easily. During the last five months, Mr Savimbi's well-trained and apparently highly-motivated troops have highlighted the shameful inadequacies of the FAA. With seeming ease, they've defended Andulo and Bailundo at least four times.
Mr Savimbi's Maoist-inspired tactics have proved so successful that, on occasion, the FAA have been tricked into firing at each other instead of saving their bullets for the enemy. Far from conducting a defensive battle, the rebels are calling all the shots.
Some argue that the pendulum is shortly to swing in the other direction. Come the dry season, which is expected to arrive half-way through this month, the FAA will be able to maximise its air-power. Once the cloud has lifted, so the theory goes, the government's fighter planes should take out at least some of Mr Savimbi's myriad military positions. Moreover, after nearly a quarter of a century of fighting each other, both sides have had ample time to develop the capacity to stick out the bad times. This, it is said, will see the government through.
But whether this will prove to be the case or not may well be irrelevant. War has gone on for so many years in Angola, it seems obvious that it will never be a method for peace. The problem, therefore, is how to end this culture of violence which most of the estimated 12 million population have endured since the day they were born. So far, the only idea the UN has been able to think up is increased sanctions against UNITA. Clamp down on those who are buying Dr Savimbi's diamonds and selling him weapons and eventually he'll run out of steam. Clearly, that's not working. There's also talk of tightening up the borders with the DRC (Democratic Republic of Congo) and Zambia: that way, even if arms dealers continue to sell, their products will never reach the final destination.
However, given the current state of affairs in central and southern Africa, many observers believe this idea would be impossible to implement.
Furthermore, sanctions fail to tackle the root of the problem: that neither Dr Savimbi nor Mr Dos Santos are willing to share power. Both men have far too much hatred for each other; both men have far too much pride.
Promoters of peace, as exhausted as they are, must go back to the drawing board.