Personal views/judgements, not necessarily based on facts/knowledge

3 things learnt from 2weeks+ of no taste, no smell!

Ever imagined how Apple tastes while chewing it? You probably wouldn’t, cuz generally, you taste it with each bite. I’ve had to imagine how foods used to taste as I chew them. National delicacies like Eru, Bean stew, kwacoco tasted like nothing.
I remember two days into this ordeal, my lil niece suffering a bout of malaria threw up. I generally might cringe at the idea of cleaning it up… maybe the stench though. But helas…. was this a blessing… nothing, no smell. Just the slime of the spewed content was nazzzzz. The rest… nothing.

Sometime last month, I somehow lost the sense of taste or smell. It felt/feels bad. You can’t differentiate whatever you consume by either its taste or smell. For the first few days, I literally starved the big worms in my tummy. They were eager to consume, but the mouth or throat was weary swallowing tasteless items.

Once I got into the kitchen and my senior sister came running in. She smelled gas leaking. I hadn’t. That was dangerous… I thought. As I stepped out that day, it was drizzling. I remembered enjoying the chalk-like smell that the earth gives out when rain drops kiss the dust. Now I couldn’t. I sniffed around like Tom might do Jerry’s armpits. Lol. Nothing. This made me sad.
At the office that day and others, I’d sip hot tea, chew ginger slices, take teas and anything with a harsh smell with the hope to get anything out of it….Nothing.

I even became a self-proclaimed medic. I conjured up a remedy. If honey be good for the body, and bittercola be good as well, why not mix the two and watch wonders happen. Still…. nothing.

“Maybe you should take vitamins, it helps boost your system and would definitely help you”, my sister would say.

I abhor medicines, more specific, tablets – in any form. Well, I tried it. Took some effervescent vitamin tablets. The once abhorrent nausea feel it generally leaves in my mouth and throat was absent. There was nothing.

Would you doubt I prayed? Ahhh don’t. I did. I still do….. you know what… there’s more. Some things popped to mind in those times, which I’d serve now.

  1. We are often unconscious of the little things we have until we lose them. I am a Christian and would often be grateful to God for His goodness towards me. I’d thank Him for life, health, eyes, family, etc. It’s often off to thank Him for the ability to taste or perceive a smell. That would in the the spur not pop up in my mind. This I have learnt. Life felt somehow sour and colourless without taste and smell. Some detail so small at that moment meant so much that probably, were I from elsewhere, I might have fallen into a depression.
    How many times would we thank God for the fact that our upper teeth can actually clench with the lower teeth, enabling us to chew?

Have you ever imagined eyes without eyelids? Medics will tell you how dangerous that would be. How many of us ever thank our creator for the eyelids of our eyes?

Those few hairs inside your nostrils…. remember them. That black spot in your iris, remember it. That fingernail of your smallest toe, remember it. That cartilage that enables your elbow to bend whenever you want to sneeze ‘new-style’ because of covid-19, remember it.
This is my submission… take nothing for granted. The most insignificant at this time could be the very branch the rest of your life perches on. Take time to appreciate God for it all.

  1. You can actually do what you need to do without you ‘feeling’ like it. I didn’t feel like eating, but I had to eat. So I did. Once at work, I served myself bread and eggs in the morning, put it in a tray and left it on the table until 4p.m. when I was about leaving for the day. That’s when I remembered I wasn’t fasting. I had not eaten the entire day. I didn’t feel like it. My sister soon realised I was growing pale. I soon realised I needed to eat. Eat, not because I felt like, but because I had to. Eat not because I liked to, but because my body needed it to function well. And me being healthy would ultimately contribute to my sense of taste and smell being restored.

How many times have we foregone what we had to do in life because we didn’t feel like it, because it wasn’t so convenient us doing it, or so tasty to us? That doesn’t or should matter. We all know that thing that we must do. We know that early watch we must keep, that expense we must cut, that attitude we must work on, that acquaintance we must sever… let’s do it, not because we like it or feel like it, but because we need to do it. We need it to move forward, to grow.

  1. This is the trick…worrying didn’t help me one bit. The more I worried about it, the more I didn’t perceive smell or have taste. The more I beat heads for it to return ASAP, the less it did. In fact, it didn’t. Did I even tell you I checked online to see whether it was a symptom of Covid-19? Yeah, I did. Read articles, testimonies, possible home remedies and the like. I’m not saying don’t try to fix it. I’m saying, don’t worry too much about it because worry never has solved a thing. I soon somehow resigned. I told myself I could live without smell and taste. I told myself life could go on, and it did. Of course it wasn’t same, but it wasn’t the end. Ther were times I would still pray and wish to have the taste of the Eru I was supposed to be relishing, but I would wield my thoughts to rather be grateful for what I was eating, the mouth I was using rather than focus on that lack of taste. I could still manage to enjoy those foods, buy them, consume them, even cook them. I chose to see colour, actually taste, perceive smell when I actually didn’t.

I’m also not making an apology for pain and resignation as defeat. Depends on how you choose to see it… me, half full. In fact, very full. Just depends on what fills the other part. Hope. Gratitude.

By week 2’s ending, that was how I lived. From time to time, the reality would linger around. But, it didn’t control my every thought. I controlled it. I wielded when I wanted it to occupy my thoughts and when it shouldn’t. It didn’t barge in and overtake every other thing. I literally defeated the fear of whatever I didn’t know. And soon enough… it started finding it’s way back to normalcy. I don’t know if the phrase that says ‘when you ignore something, it starts working to please you’ really works. Well maybe it does, maybe it doesn’t.. God knows best.

I’d leave us with this line from Patience Strong – “Nine times out of ten, if you let things rest, they’ll turn out for the best”.

I’ve heard many complain about loss of taste and smell these days. I’m neither medic nor prophet, but I’ll say this….While the ordeal lasts, sail through it with your head high. Make the most of it, learn a thing or two and get to the other side of it better in spirit than you got into it.


Open Letter to the Fathers of the Church in Cameroon

Open letter to the Fathers of the church in Cameroon

Dear Fathers,

My heart is smelting. “A nation can never be better than the state of the church within it”. There’s every truth in this statement my father, Bishop Chris, always makes. There’s every truth in it as you seem to mirror the hermit, entombing your heads in the pools of our blood while you chant “Hallelujah”; “Peace be Still”, to hungry hordes of weary souls looking forward to even one man standing in the gap.

I can recall one man who stood in the gap for those He loved, those He’d made. That person sacrificed His son, and sure bore pain when He saw His only and beloved nailed to the cross and had to forsake Him when He became sin. God did it because He had to sacrifice that in order to save mankind. I am cognizant in my spirit of Jesus who sacrificed it all. He lost His earthly life, was treated of all names and scourged with all scourging; had to bear the forsaking of His Father because He had to do what He had to do to save mankind.

In a contemporary case, I can recall the church in the Democratic Republic of Congo, who lost its members, saw some arrested and wounded, saw its buildings destroyed and its name tarnished, because it decided to cry out for the respect of the agreed canons of the people, in order to save their nation.

I’d also want to recall tomorrow how my fathers stood in the gap for Cameroon. We are dying. We are wallowing in misery. As days go by, our present and future are being minced. We have fathers. But, where are they? Why don’t they wake up? Why don’t they stand? Why don’t they SPEAK AS ONE MAN for the safety of Cameroon? Why don’t they carry the nation on their shoulders and be that light Jesus said we ought to be in the nation?

We have Fathers who got hordes of children west of the Mungo. You have a voice. Make it heard. I think of our fathers of The Apostolic Church in Cameroon; and of the Presbyterian Church in Cameroon; and of the Cameroon Baptist Convention; and of the Full Gospel Mission; and of the Catholic Church; and of the Christian Missionary Fellowship International; and of the Council of Protestant Churches endorsing the several charismatic Churches we have today. And what about those also east of the Mungo, the EEC, the EPC, the UEEC, the UEBC, the EELC, the EFLC, the MEEC, and the list continues. Are you not our fathers?

Crying woman, pain and grief concept, flag of Cameroon

I am making this statement because I have been so wearied in reflection that I too must unseal my lips. I have been so tanned by tears because I feel we have been forsaken. Cameroon needs fathers. Cameroon has got fathers, only they are maybe still to wake up to their responsibility as fathers.

The church has a prophetic voice. Where is that of the church in Cameroon? If it be not true, why do you give the impression that you have traded your voices for handshakes and contact numbers? Should that be your crown as the light of Cameroon and the salt of this land? Is that the kind of city on a hill you want the world – us – to see?

Stand for the truth – PAY THE PRICE. Jesus did. You are His followers. What can they do to you? Arrest you? Kill you? Defame your name? Soil your ministry? Close your church? Vandalise its buildings? Beat you? Scourge you? Attack your family? Please tell me, what really can/would they do to you that will be news? Is that what you fear? Didn’t your and my Jesus say that we shouldn’t fear those who kill the body but cannot the soul? Was He ignorant in saying that? I doubt. He sure knew there would be those who will kill the body, but He tells you it should matter not.

When will we stop the sermons, ecumenical or not; when will we stop the prophecies, inspired or not; and be true WATCHMEN of the city – Cameroon – in which God has placed us? Are you afraid you will no more be called to preside over them ecumenical services; that you’d enter their bad books? For crying out loud, what is really holding you back?

Fear? Spinelessness? Is that the spirit God gave you? Isn’t it a spirit of love, power and self-control His Word confirms He gave you?

Where is your love for the nation; for the people, when corpses increasingly litter our streets? Where is your power when you seem to cringe under the shadow of your seeming comfort? Where is your self-control when you won’t put aside your denominational cloaks and act like the BODY OF CHRIST that you are?

I know I may be wrong in all what I say, and I truly pray that I am. I pray this simply be my wits playing me turns and not reality. I pray your fatherhood to this nation has not been emasculated. I pray your fatherhood over Cameroon doesn’t end on our pulpits. I pray that like Jesus, after praying in Gethsemane, you will descend the mountain and go to the cross for your mankind – Cameroon.

Yes, get off the pulpits. Rally as ONE MAN. Speak to the political authority as ONE MAN. You may be arrested, yes; beaten, yes; killed, yes; whatsoever, yes. But then, you’d have stood up for the truth, the way and the life you stand for as Christians; for the ideals of a sane land the Bible does preach when it calls on righteousness to flood our streets. These may be sham ways out – forgive my utterances if they offend. You sure know better. Do something.

Even if nothing happens afterward, you’d have stood up for the people as ONE MAN.

You’d have been the VOICE; Our voice!

Is it so difficult or complicated? Just give it a try. Write a memo, like I’ve done to you. Condemn what’s condemnable; propose solutions to what’s arrangeable. Bring them to the table – show them The Way to peace.

If nothing avails, rise as ONE MAN. Get down, hand in hand to the gates of Etoudi. Ask to speak to its occupant. Tell him you have seen enough blood spilled. Give him your pathway to get out of this logjam situation. Confront him publicly with a good way out, so much so that he’ll be too ashamed to publicly turn it down while claiming he is working it out. Please, I beseech you, do something. Don’t sit down with folded arms. Sow that seed!

You are watchmen of the nation. Stop doing such disservice to our land. For how long will this continue? For how long?

Arise my fathers. This nation is miserably and expectantly groaning, earnestly longing after its fathers; its watchmen to take up their position at the gates of the city.



Yours tearfully,



© Buddhanetz

Toledo has a really cool job. He earns super well and has plans to get some real big estate for himself and his. Even promising, his boss is spotting for a promotion. That’d be a big catch. Others who’ve been there haven’t had such high hopes until their 15th year of service. He’s just made 2, and counting! Toledo is willing, determined, motivated, encouraged and courageous and at the same time tired, overwhelmed, overtaxed, and stressed!

Burnout is simply defined as “physical or mental collapse caused by overwork or stress”.

Everywhere, professionals will give you the best practice on how to burn that out. They work for some, and don’t for others. It would be useless advising one who got a full-time job to answer present on Monday to Saturday evening for a ‘long’ weekend vacation right? Insulting even!

That can’t always work; yet, we got to always work. Needless to say we need to burn out burnout before it even sets in and burns life out of us. So what could work for us, while we work?

Here’s what I propose: Eat, play, and sleep.


Eating good is good for the body, and consequently for the mind. At the end of the meal, satisfaction should be your friend, not constipationJ. Some slices of fresh fruits in the morning would do you so much good; keep you light and as fresh as the fruits themselves. Home-processed foods and fruits are best (from experience, one needn’t any expert to let this out). They taste better, fresher, and greener (J4F, but seriously though). A sustainable meal for lunch will do the trick, after a healthy start for the day. Best, when away from the office desk, a change of environment, sitting position, duty, etc., makes the body and brain relax, for what it’d cost. Vary the scenes, out of the office, with friends, with colleagues, all by yourself, a touch of relaxation during food time. Not so much a serious 1 hour of rushing to chew and digest; nor one of chewing and glancing through the computer, or phone, or a newspaper, or else. Just focus on the food, and let it know you’re investing precious time into it, that it got to work well for you. Back at home for the evening, not a heavy plate though. Some other slices of fresh fruits would sit well. These pave the way for the last for the day. A light meal, whether with meat, fish, broth, veggies, etc., the key is to keep it light. Vary your taste, vary your meals. Eat Green!

Some have said: “in the morning eat like a king, in the afternoon, like a Prince, and in the evening like a baby”. Maybe that’s the very best practice, but how many of us got ample time to set up a banquet in the morning before hopping out of the door for work. How many would, after setting it, have time to sit and munch? Well, maybe best practice, but experience has shown that copy and paste often doesn’t work in the 21st century. So, for those who can, please do. For us who can’t, we make it happen well for us otherwise. And sometimes, the babies from the part of the globe where I’m from can eat the share of more than 2 kings put together. Lol 🙂

And did I forget the king? Water. It’s not eating here, please. I’d fear whoever does (J4F)! Drink! Take as much as you should. A glass in the morning, afternoon, evening, night; one always by your side, close to your desk, etc. Drink à go-go! Anyone ever heard about too much water being really injurious to the body and mind? Thanks for sharing if you do. 

“Learning without playing makes Jack a dull boy”, we often say.

“Working without playing makes you a robot” I’d say. So, play. Playing simply means you engage yourself in some recreational activity, why not in a way characteristic of children. Just relax, and enjoy the simple things of life, void of seriousness, void of harshness. Playing would vary. For some, a movie; for others music. Yet others, a game, whatsoever game, others any hobby (cooking for meJ); game out, visit out, stroll out; in short, clean out the stress. It’s all about doing something that is entirely not work-related, or stress-related in either way or the other. Even ‘at work’, you can play.

It mustn’t always be files here and there, or assignments here and there, or reports here and there, or deadlines here and there. It could be a brief, and very brief stop over by a colleague’s desk, for a friendly ‘hi, how’s your day going? ‘You smiled today?’ and a quick smile to round-off those few seconds of ‘play’. It could be a 5 – 10 minute chat within or without the work environment/context, with someone within or without, about life out of work, about experiences that make you more human, and less robotic on work, work and work. (In office environment, ‘play’ could follow after ‘eat’ as the food slides down the system; best for discipline sake). A two-minute abandonment of the office desk to contemplate the traffic outside, the beautiful flowers, etc., or just a trip up and down the staircases could be part of someone’s ‘play’. Find what works best for you, what takes your mind out of the ‘work, work, work’ robotic schedule we find ourselves in, and even fail to move out of even when we’re formally or officially out of it.

And the last of it: Sleep. The average sleep duration has been established by experts as ranging from 7 – 9 hours from ages 18 – 65+. Today, we say sleep isn’t that important because there are much more things to do during the time we would have spent sleeping. Consequence, we owe our bodies. And, when it’s already an issue to pay what one may owe another, how easy would it be to pay what one owes oneself? Conclusion: we need to sleep well. Good sleep, good rest. During sleep, you

  • See
  • Life
  • Experiences
  • Experiencing
  • Power

Our thoughts and activities during the day are consolidated in our beings and minds when we sleep, and we tend to be sharper and smarter when we wake up to face the new day. Experts have proven this; and I have experienced this. I used to have ‘sleep arrears’, and would usually joke over it, until I realized I was doing myself more harm than good.

So now you know, perhaps not expert advice, but experience advice.  🙂 It’s simple and practical. And, by the way, we all are some sort of workaholics, right? Never mind! Just work well, eat well, play well and sleep well!



Once Upon a Time: BREAST RIPPERS

Once upon a time there existed breast rippers. They were simply forks used to rip breasts away. Cruel and gruesome! Unimaginable, yet verisimilar! History records its use in the late 1590s in Bavaria, Central Europe; and in other parts of Germany and France until the 19th century.

breast ripperIn use, the forks were attached to a breast at a time; then ripped off. It pulled off chunks of flesh from the fleshy breast, which either left the subject definitely mutilated or dead; both ways passing through inexpressible pain.

A variant of the breast rippers was the Spider: even more horrendous. The Spider would be affixed to a wall, and the subject’s breast snug into it, then the subject pulled out, leaving chunks of breast particles ripped by the Spider on the wall. Horrible! Appalling!

What could warrant such cruelty from human beings toward other human beings? What could these women have done to deserve such?

Abortion, self-abortion, adultery, self-miscarriage, were mainly what drew out the breast rippers or the Spider; either as punishment or for interrogation. Later set in blasphemy and witchcraft.

Right until the 19th century in some parts of Germany and France, this was being used. A simple deduction: the people didn’t encourage any of the following – abortion, self-abortion, adultery, self-miscarriage and all the others. To them, such warranted and deserved the heartrending punishment, albeit appalling, disgraceful and degrading.

The question is: What’s being said today?

It’s shocking to see how values once upheld have quickly sunk to a state lower than man could ever imagine. It’s unbelievable that persons who once detested an act, and who were ready to perpetrate horrendous practices on fellow human beings can so easily sit back and let the same murky rivers flow into their homes and lands.

Yes, the laws are there to regulate, and do their utmost best to, reason why we hear “pro-life” and “pro-choice” everywhere one can today; and “pro-trash” (my opinion). Reason why adultery or extra-marital affairs do not warrant much eyeing. After all, isn’t it supposed to be one’s private life and/or personal choice?

Indeed it is, and ever will be. It always has been, except that as the breast ripper ripped in the past, it is ripping now; or reaping, if you will. Not necessarily the breasts (I would never support that, for no reason on earth), but the hearts; the humans in us.


He was born a gentle soul, with a gentle heart and a gentle face. What a beauty to behold. His smile enough to melt the ice off a frozen life. On that very fateful and faithless day, when the doom of manhood was revealed, and the fella in gusto and high spirits, desirous to perpetrate his usual air of highness and attain satisfaction, barged into the room. She had been accepting this all the while, hopeful the much awaited golden streak would one day burst out of the gray. But as usual, this only loomed and loomed in the corridor, and no one dared fish it out.

As he thrust his will of power, the gentle soul’s seed was sown. The harsher the thrust, it seemed to be the gentler the soul. As way leads to way, the gentlest mix was made and the gentle soul breathed.

Seasons passed and life began to flow. That ever gentle face did not deter her from thrusting gentleness into the ungentle home of refuse. Surrounded by putrefying carcasses, unwanted junk from the meaningless and futile stub that inhabits man, the ever horrid and torrid haven that seemed to lay bare the simple existence of this gentle soul.

babyThere the bitches, mutts or mongrels, birds and flies and bugs were its lone acquaintances. And did I forget the meanest ones of the earth, the worms and maggots. Yet through it all the gentle soul did not lose its gentleness. Or perhaps it did, but itself remained unaware. The gentle seeds within were oozing out of the gentle souls.

In the midst of this imbroglio the gentle embryo’s beam seemed to pull in a hub of dangerous faces; faces like those of she who confided it to such rootage; faces like those of he who sowed the seed in an ignoble manner; faces like those of he who glided away as the dust does at the coming of the rain; faces like those of she who chooses the path of a seeming “no choice” in impishness and utter disregard for the gentle soul – that gentle seed that was in her sown, and in her borne, and from her born.

Yet the sunshine in the grey, that streaked lasted but for a while. It seemed to have garnered all the gloom from the faces who looked down on it; faces of him, faces of her. How to live life as refuse, withdrawn from refuse, with none to comrade with. The scorn of peers and society, the scorn of self. A constant reminder the gentle soul knew no gentility from inception right unto this time of deception.

Through time all, the homes reject; the confines of a bastardized society which lives no space for “bastards”. Through the search for belonging, the street is a gentler solace; with arms as wide open, gentle and loving, as that of she who bore the gentle soul. Yet she was far away, and not a glimpse of her throughout the all. What could have been through her mind, and still be, that she wasn’t moved by the gentleness of the gentle soul’s gentle face.

Refuse from self, from her, from him, from home, from life. In the cool and calm embrace of Mother Street, the gentle soul finds a home. Why not enjoy the freedom to be free? Why not celebrate the company of those who value? Why not show some strength from one once considered weak, vulnerable, defenseless, refuse? Why not be all that you can be?

jailExcept that one’s freedom often ends where another’s starts; even for the gentlest of souls. So the gentle soul, filled with ignoble parts of life, steps on the toes of freedom and falls off the cliff of life. Not so for all though, but this gentle soul found no way back up its toes. Way past for a reboot in this physical, but perhaps in the one beyond.

Yet he who gave the seed, and she who grew it, live off a side of earth not registered in the gentle soul’s annals.


To all those who have at any point in time cast out a gentle soul, either under full cognizance or impelled by supposed persons or circumstances; to all those who have at any point in time cast ignoble seeds of gentle souls, either under full cognizance or else and spurred someone to cast out a gentle soul, the gentle hands of the Gentlest heart is still open for repentant hearts.

Matthew 18 v 6

But whoso shall offend/cause to stumble one of these little ones which believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea. (King James Bible)

If we repent, and confess our sins, God Almighty is faithful and just to forgive and cleanse us from all unrighteousness. (1 John 1:9).

God bless y’all.


That's just how it is...

That’s just how it is…

The sun looks beaming, but casts its shadows;

One never knows all why or all for every why

Summing up the bitterness that climbs up each little gut

The envy and the hate, the sense of no way around

And when all these draw nigh and ring; the scream, an ample ding

To yell for help and leave the rest, and expect all’ll be well


It comes like the wind, rushing through the door, like angry waves hitting the sand

As though it had done it harm, or caused it pain.

It happens severally; oh the wish to vanish

Or perhaps clone oneself; every you for every it.

Bu this even makes it tougher, as tougher trials stand

They stand in zest, to yank your chest, to put you to the test.


Indeed that’s what they are there for, to bring out gold from brass

Who told them that in everything, one ought to make out gold?

Leave the dust, for brown it is, and never could be white

So it is, so it was made, you churn your silent sack

For dust is brown and grass is green, and you are who you are

None is you and you are none, and that’s just how it is


It gets so slimy, climbing slime; it gets so rocky, climbing rocks

It gets so prickly, playing with prickles, and cold beneath the ice

It gets so smelly, touching carcass, so dirty with the dung

So un-Santa when the heart leaps out, but jumps back with a bump

Too yellow an earth to stay in, too slimy for the climb

Too achy to get the feet on, the feet upon oneself.


Barely a week after the presidential visit to Buea, on occasion of the celebration of Cameroon’s 50 years of Reunification, the settling dust seems to carry dissenting views into the eyes of the celebrants. Minds reel back to former President Ahmadou Ahidjo’s speech on October 1, 1961 where he asked “what is the need of a union bedeviled by divisions deeper than frontiers, quarrels opposing brothers, children and parents?

According to a report this morning on the National Radio Station, Fako Chiefs, after an extraordinary meeting in Wovia, Limbe, have threatened to pull out of the South West Chief’s Conference (SWCC). According to the Chief’s, the SWCC has been hijacked by over-zealous chiefs. They also decry amongst others, the shabby treatment by their peers, in that they were not consulted in an audience to receive the Head of State, Paul Biya. Issues also arise about funds raised by the South West Region, for the event, which according to Senator Peter Mafany Musonge, a son of the South West soil, was used up to the last franc. Though such is the advocated move, there are however dissenting voices as to the course of action.

Surprisingly in Buea, electricity supply has been on the rise and fall for the past three days, an utter versa from the estimated close to FCFA 4 Billion spent on water and electricity supply networks in Buea, on occasion of the event, as the Minister of Communication, Issa Tchiroma Bakary revealed, while speaking to the press in Yaoundé shortly after the date of the event was made public. One wonders if the estimated FCFA 35 Billion spent on Buea on occasion of the 50th anniversary of reunification will last a considerable time, even as some prominent works, like the reunification monument, seem to bear light weight, compared to its intended purpose.

In all, solace is once more drawn from Ahmadou Ahidjo’s sum that “Cameroonians should consider themselves as children of the same family, which disagreements can separate temporarily, but who still find in themselves deep links uniting them above all disorders”.





One people, one nation, one future

One people, one nation, one future

The hopping deadlines for the completion of works in Buea, prior to celebrations marking Cameroon’s 50th anniversary of reunification is no longer news for Cameroonians. The latest of December 19, issued by the Minister of Housing and Urban Development, Jean Claude Mbwentchou, has equally not been respected.

With speculations on the increase as to the reason for the delay, some believe it is because President Biya expects to be awarded a PhD Honoraris Corsas (according to a local French daily), or a Doctorate Degree in Political Science.

Whatever the reasons, plans seem to be on hold for the sole cause of the celebrations. As per Bouddih Addams in his column “Roughshod” on The Post Newspaper, No 01490, December 23, 2013,  “ the town of Buea has been taken hostage by the wait for President Biya’s coming for the celebration of the Re(Unification) of Cameroon”.

Addams continues that if “X-mass were also dependent on the presidential visit, it would have been postponed. We have proved that if international celebrations were dependent on us, like the World AIDS Day…there is no doubt that all of the days will not be celebrated on the designated dates”. This is perhaps not open for debate as the graduation ceremony of the University of Buea for 2013 has been postponed to a yet-to-be-announced date, still dependent on the president’s visit to Buea.

Down memory lane, President Biya had scheduled his eminent visit to Buea to definitely be within 2013, as per a statement granted State TV, after last September 30’s  twin Legislative and Municipal elections in Cameroon. Barely two days to the end of the year 2013, speculations still roam the air as to whether January 2014 will see president Biya in Buea.

52 years since the event that shaped the life of the nation, renowned historians give stunning revelations that could make or mar the whole idea in the minds of Cameroonians. Despite the roughshod nature of the celebrations on every other important activity in Buea, majority still eagerly await the festivities with “blood in the eye”.


According to the Corruption Perception Index 2013, Cameroon still maintains its 144th position out of 177 countries concerned, with a score of 25/100. This signifies no change from the same position occupied last year, and therefore ought to make greater strides to stamp out the cankerworm. issues of bribery are still on everyday Cameroonian lips.

According to the national bilingual daily, Cameroon Tribune, the Transparency International classification results were disclosed on December 3, 2013 during a conference in Yaoundé, by the President of Transparency International, Barrister Charles Nguini.

With the corruption survey focusing on the public sector in all concerned countries, Barrister Nguini stated that Cameroon’s classification stemmed from information furnished by 8 professional sources.

Cameroon occupied the 34th position out of 48 African countries, with the Central African Republic, Iran, Nigeria, Papua New Guinea and Ukraine also on the 144th position.

Afghanistan, North Korea and Somalia, scored 8/100, placing them at the top of the list, while Denmark and New Zealand scored 91% to be apparently the least corrupt countries.


This day marks exactly Fifty-two (52) years, since the reunification of Cameroon; the reunion of former British Southern Cameroons, with former East Cameroon. (1 OCTOBER 1961)

Infrastructure for reunification celebrations

Infrastructure for reunification celebrations

Cameroonians pride themselves in the soon-to-come celebrations marking 50 years of reunification, but fail to honour the actual date when the foundation for the celebrations was laid.

52 years after John Ngu Foncha of former West Cameroon, and President Ahmadou Ahidjo of former East Cameroon put their signatories at the historic Mountain Hotel in BUEA, giving birth to a reunified Cameroon, Cameroonians are still bustling with preparations for the celebrations of 50 years of reunification, and one wonders what becomes of the remaining 2 years.

The new reunification stand

The new reunification stand

According to an interview granted President Paul Biya to State TV, the celebratios for 50 years of reunification, will effectively take place before the end of this year 2013, as he awaits technical irregularities to straigthen up.

Even as the day rides away, no mention of the date’s importance is hinted. Could you wait until you’re 80 years to celebrate your 78th birthday.  You may though, as that’s the reality soon to come to fruition.

Miss Cameroon 2013 contest: cultural delight or disdain?

The Miss Cameroon contest that rounded off last month was a mixture of pride for the Cameroonian folk, as they got to see their beauties from the ten regions, all represented. One might though question how proud the organizers were of their country, as no such pride was exhibited in the sound tracks that accompanied the contestants in their parades.

For youngsters that stood the chance of representing the nation, only their parade in traditional attires was accompanied by Cameroonian music. Stunning enough, their presentation, first display, parade in swim suits, and the final African apparel, were all accompanied by non-cameroonian songs. One would wonder how that demonstrates that the Cameroonian culture would be inculcated into the future representatives of the country.

In COMINADA (the organizing body)’s theme for this year, that can be summarized as “let’s preserve our culture”, one would think the contest would be out to showcase the Cameroonian culture, to clearly tell they are fulfilled with it. But what entails? Foreign music is the order of the day, as the contestants are made to proudly and courageously dance themselves to the tune of the sounds e.g Azonto, Alingo, etc.

Ayena Denise Valerie, blissful Miss Cameroon 2013, was called upon to keep the flag of the country high, that of the continent too, as she is in Indonesia to contest for the 2014 Miss World title with the over 100 others. Hope she keeps the flag of the Cameroonian culture flying high, and not discard of hers, as was done at home, to the embrace of foreign mores.


The real democrat

The real democrat

The embodiment of democracy in Africa today blows his 95th candle. Nelson Mandela not only today has the gift of long life, despite his ailing health, but has the record as one of the world’s most democratic presidents, ever to have manned an African state.

Madiba, as he is popularly known, has been a household name since the days of South Africa’s apartheid history. In his struggle to free his people from white dominance and discrimination, he made prison confines his abode for 27 healthy years. His struggle finally bore fruit in 1990, when he was released from prison, and made south Africa’s first black president in 1994, a subtle, but real defeat for the apartheid system.

Madiba showed the real democracy South Africa and Africa at large needed, and still needs today. He had fought for his cake, and when he had it, did not make the mistake of eating it. He had fought for change, and when placed in a position to effect that change, he set the pace, and gave the opportunity for the people to have the power for themselves.  He gave power in 1999 to the people, for the people, and by the people.

He lived and passed down real democracy that his country still enjoys today. South Africa is an African country to reckon with: the seeds that nelson Mandela sowed are fruitful today.

Though his health is ailing, as he celebrates his 95th anniversary, the whole nation does with him, and even reveres him, more than any other South African statesman.  He lived democracy: he gave the power back to his people.


Education is visibly good to mankind. Proof is that our parents now sit and look at us with much pride, especially in Africa, that races afore thought backward, can now match up with the advanced rate.

Education is happiness. Educated girls the world over become great ladies tomorrow, with radiance and joy.

Education is happiness. Educated girls the world over become great ladies tomorrow, with radiance and joy.

Education is the key to equality of race, sex, ethnic group, religion, socio-economic status, and whatever one can think of.

It has no barriers, and neither presents nor accepts any.

All are equal, and have equal chances of being equal.

With education, mankind can be all that it ever wants to be.

GOD ALMIGHTY has given us wisdom, so let’s seize the opportunity, and do some good for ourselves.

Credit to Malala Yousofzai, one student, on teacher, one book, one pen will save the world. It is mankind’s greatest weapon.


BIG BROTHER AFRICA (BBA): catalyst to declining African values

The Big Brother phenomenon, is one to reckon with nowadays, as it is a must watch show, especially among the youths of Cameroon. But because of the spirit of cultivation from the media, the phenomenon tends to take a toll on the already suffering African values, sowing seeds of discrepancy in young minds.

Partying is the order of the day with the Big Brother Phenomenon. True that something good can come out of partying, as it is a form of relaxation, but the clue to relaxation lies in a day well spent. Formerly, one used to learn constructive things from BBA, with regard to one’s love for the motherland, but now, partying is the easiest thing to learn, even without wanting to. Consider just how many youths following the show, can’t afford to miss the Saturday night parties, for anything else. African Big brothers encourage positive African values, and not the western value of routine partying.

Indecent habits that ensure in the enclosed doors are displayed to the public eye. These habits are inculcated in the viewers, and most even think that if a housemate in BBA isn’t flexible in such habits, such a person is boring, and deserves to be evicted. Such are the thoughts that our African  big brother should be discouraging from our minds, and not letting them sink into our conscious and even sub-conscious minds.

Quarrels and gossips are all exemplary, as they are part of the game. It is good to lie, loose bonds with one person, and mend with another all in the name of the game. It is even better to pretend to have a serious emotional relationship with somebody all in the name of the game, and later disclose publicly, that it was “just a game, and I played it well”. Such are the habits copied by the committed viewers and followers of BBA, and these tend to adopt the inclination into their daily lives.

All these might not be the intentions, but because the word of wisdom believes “an idle man is the devil’s workshop”, and because the work in the workshop needs an abode and a host, Africa’s values are seriously being threatened by the BBA phenomenon, which seems just to have started  a journey of no-return.


Political structure in Cameroon has been relayed to a seed of the West Region of Cameroon, MARCEL NIAT NJIFENJI. His election as president of the Senate in Cameroon, foretells a merger between the country’s economic structure, and now the country’s political structure.

It is stale news that the west region booms economically in the nation, thus being the masters of the econo-structure. Having an upper hand in the senate adds to their portfolio the super power-structure of the nation. Two dynamic powers that would convey an infra- super –power-structure on the west region,  leading to an explosive form of democracy the nation might fail to contain.

Having a Westerner at the helm of the Senate, who in effect is the constitutional successor of the head of state in case of his sudden death or incapacitation, has sparked an onward flow of thoughts, as to the plight of Anglophone Cameroonians. Though with this view, contrary ones exist.

Born on October 26, 1934, Marcel Njifenji has been vice prime minister in charge of water and Energy (1992), and the Mayor of Bangangte, amongst others. His rich entrepreneurial and political portfolio, are surely what have prompted his rise to the historic position of Cameroon’s first ever Senate president.

By a majority vote of 86 out of 100, Marcel Njifenji who hails from Bangangte, in the Nde division, West Region of Cameroon, is married and a father of four.