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    Wednesday, 27 September 2017

    A Southern Cameroonian Brain-Box Writes To Uncle Paul Biya, Calling On Him To Visit Realities- A must Read


     young vibrant intelligent Southern Cameroonian lady, Frisha Gold Ngu, paints a perfect picture of  how Cameroon became one, what happened while they were united, why and how things went  out of hand, and what she thinks President Biya needs to do to remedy the situation.

    Read below, it's such a beautiful piece.

    Dear Uncle...

    If I was to write you when I was six or seven, I would have said dear daddy. But I grew up quite confused how you are related to me.

    For some reason, my mother has always had marital problems..just as she's always had trouble staying single. They told me she and her sister lived together and one foreigner came and married both of them the same day. 

    After some years, another foreigner came and killed their husband but he was only interested in marrying her sister. Mama was so desperate for marriage, she begged the brother of the foreigner to come and marry her. Sent countless letters. But the brother was already married to the neighbor so the brother foreigner took her as second wife and put her to live in the kitchen of the neighbor.

    Shortly after, her sister chased the foreigner away and mama started packing. The neighbor had also driven the foreign husband away. But they didn't give her the choice to remain single. No one asked her if she wants to stay single on her own. 

    You know in those days there was nothing like a "career woman" ... If you leave your husband's house you return to your father's house. If you don't marry at all, you stay in your father's house even if you are 56. So her only two divorce options were to divorce foreign husband and marry neighbor's son or divorce foreigner and return to her father's house with her sister. 

    Well, blood is thicker than water so she chose to return with her two children to stay with her sister who had had 8. They both decided Auntie's son will coordinate the household and agreed they will cohabit as two distinct families in one nuclear family compound.

    Uncle, what happened after is very confusing to me. At some point, it became a marriage. A traditional abomination. Auntie's son married mama and inherited her two children. And then gifted us to you. That's what they told me. That's why I am confused. Cos I knew you as daddy, then they said you are uncle then they said you are brother.... I don't know who you are to me exactly... I just know you are the one leading this family now.

    Uncle, I have grown among a lot of complaints against you but I have never known to hate you. I can't find it in me to. I grew up fascinated by you. I was so proud of you. I took a lot of pride in imitating your deep unique voice. You were so handsome on the walls of all offices I entered. But mama's children seemed convinced you were not kind to them. They felt left out and disfavoured. 

    Personally, I didn't grow up a very favoured child either. I learned from very small not to look to any man for my happiness and success in life and I found something greater than our bloodline... The grace of God. I grew to depend on that Grace and not your duties to me as a part of your family... And that is why I still could not find it in me to despise you.

    But uncle, for the past year, I am worn out from believing in and arguing my brothers for your goodwill for mama's side of the family.

    I strongly believed and gave so many justifications for you. The very houseboys you hired to protect us started beating us up when you go on your many trips abroad. They said they were acting on your orders I said lies. I said :
    • You are not well informed by the housemaids
    • You are being misrepresented by overzealous wanna be idiots who think they are impressing you by brutalizing us on your behalf without your knowledge.
    • I said you are not Android....you don't see all these things we see on internet and your housemaids took scissors and even cut cables in mama's house to prevent you from seeing what they were doingAnd so that they can tell you lies and devilize mama's children.



    I refused to believe you are aware of the details of this crisis. A part of me still holds on to that belief.

    But I don't have strength to argue anymore. When you took over, it was to mama's house you came first. So you know the road to the house. Why don't you just come down and talk? .

    No one is telling you the truth in those photo shopped reports you get. Come let us tell you for ourselves. We will admit the wrongs we did during this time. We won't hide anything from you. There is even an airport. You don't have to travel that road passing through brother Mbouda's yard. Just come.

    In your silence, your family is turning into Afghanistan. And I can't argue any more. I don't have strength anymore. The blood I see every day weakens me. The threats. The fights....I'm emotionally exhausted.
    Let me wipe my eyes...cos I can't see my Screen anymore.

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