Errance Mentale: when we believe it, we'll see it.

T hose of us born in Cameroon of "Anglo" heritage have never really belonged in the French dominated system. Our education is different, our way of thinking is different, the way we carry oursleves is different. There is a certain complacency in the francophone demeanor that just disgusts some anglophones or maybe I should say disgusts me, as much as our way of dressing is mocked by francophones . I grew up in Yaounde and thought I could blend in. It was easy when you spoke french and had friends who came from everywhere. We grew up not knwing who came from where and we were not conscious of who our parents were. My best friend, the one who cried with me when we were bullied turned out to be a Bamileke. I say turned out because I knew nothing about tribes even as a university student. It never really mattered. When I met my friends, girls or boys, it never really was a question of where they were from. I knew everyone on first name basis and that was it. The current year is 2...

The election process in Washington DC was quite smooth, but the atmosphere was very intimidating. I arrived at the Chancery on Wisconsin avenue at about 9:30 AM. I was accompanied by my cousin who was voting for the first time in his life. We were stopped at the gate and asked why we were there. Once our purpose was stated and our names were verified on the electoral lists we were shepherded into the parking lot of the embassy. By habit, we immediately went to the waiting area outside the embassy for us to be called. There were at least 8 people outside: 3 gentlemen sitted on two of the 5 seats available, 2 others at the gate, the ambassador's driver, the big receptionist and a few other embassy personnel. Inside, behind the reception counter, 2 gentlemen were standing, with an ELECAM badge hanging from their necks. The ambassador was standing and watching a repeat of the latest football game of the indomitable lions on CRTV by internet connection. Some embassy staff were stand...

The following message was broadcast over Cameroon radio on April 6, 1984, 17 years ago. I am happy they didn't succeed. Could things have been different today? Camerounaises, Camerounais, L’armée nationale vient de libérer le peuple camerounais de la bande à Biya, de leur tyrannie, de leur escroquerie, et de leur rapine incalculable. Oui, l’armée a décidé de mettre fin à la politique criminelle de cet individu contre l’unité nationale de notre cher pays. En effet, le Cameroun vient de vivre au cours de ces quinze derniers mois qu’a duré le régime Biya les heures les plus noires de son histoire. Son unité mise en péril, la paix interne troublée, sa prospérité économique compromise, la réputation nationale ternie. Chers compatriotes, Vous avez tous été témoins de l’horrible comédie jouée par le pouvoir défunt qui se permettait de parler de libéralisme, de démocratie, d’intégration nationale, alors que, chaque jour, son action bafouait de façon scandaleuse ces hautes valeurs....

When I first spotted him that Sunday afternoon after an almost-2-hr wait, I was first of all relieved that he had honored our invitation, and at the same time humbled by the challenges that we were going to face to rally others to see what we have seen in this man: one who has the moral and intellectual credentials to pull Cameroon out of its lethargy and complacency. I noticed that his hair was grey and he was not nearly as tall as I had imagined. People never look like they are described; neither do pictures do justice to the real image of a person. I was not the only one at the Dulles International Airport that June 26, 2011. After settling down into the program which the Ayah Paul Campaign in the USA (APCUSA) had designed, I had an opportunity to spend a few hours with Hon. Paul Ayah Abine. I had written an endorsement statement and published it for all to see that I am not “neutral” when it comes to Cameroon politics and that I believe in the courage, if such a term be permitted” ...

Il y en a qui pense que la paix dont nous jouissons vient d'un programme assaisonnée à la sauce RDPC. Je dis non. Nous sommes un peuple intelligent, nous sommes un peuple qui aime notre patrie, nous sommes un peuple solidaire et fière de notre passé, un passé conquis avec le sang des nos plus grand patriotes. Ce ne sont pas les arguments pour nous entretuer qui manquent, baisse des salaires, népotisme, corruption, pauvreté, manque de routes, manques d'infrastructures scolaires et hygiénique, le chômage, etc. Nous aurons pu crier le ras de bol aux énormes dépenses d'un chef d'état complètement détaché de la réalité et de son peuple, d'un pays si pauvre mais qui se permet de voter une dépense de CFA 2,5 millions par jour pour le carburant d'un « haut » fonctionnaire de l'état comme le secrétaire d'état a la présidence de la république. Non, non et non, Paul Biya n'aime pas le Cameroun. Comment peut-on avoir, dans un pays qui compte à peine 20 mill...

After 29 years, I feel I know so much that I can call you Barthelemy or why not Bartho. Paul seems so distant and formal. Here we go again, another election. They seem to be so many and come so quickly when you've been doing them for 29 years, right? Even a seven-year term seems to go by so fast and the need to stay just lingers like bitter cream. At this point of our history when we have to chose between you and other candidates, who can take our country to the next level, I feel a little betrayed by your presence. I thought you were a gentleman who would understand that after 29 years, even the most tolerant supporter must harbor some love-fatigue. I believe you have not steered the country well, and I seem to be one of the few who think so. Do you remember when about 7 years ago we agreed that by this time you will be our country's retired President? How disappointing that you let the Circle talk you into this again. I tried in vain to beg the Cardinal to step in and kick y...

It was on a Monday morning, August 29 that I took my cousin, 21, to the embassy of the Republic of Cameroon to register to vote. I also had my wife's passport and other credentials in case I could register her in absentia. When we got to the embassy, it was closed that day and the next day, Tuesday August 30. Ramadan. On Wednesday morning, we repeated the exercise. This time, I will pick up my aunt from the nearest metro station to the embassy (she attends Georgetown University) and all three of us will register to vote. Accompanying us were two of my children, 3 and 1. When we got to the embassy, we were greeted by a long line of people who had come for various purposes. Originally, I thought they were there to register to vote like I was. As is the proclivity with things done "a la camerounaise", people who knew people who knew people who worked in the embassy were fished from the line and given red-carpet treatment while the rest of us sons of peasants waited in line. ...