I am the last child in a family of seven. I didn't grow up with my parents, I was raised by my elder sisters, each had her turn to beat sense into me. And just like every typical African family, last borns are always treated as children by the rest of the siblings, no matter how old they grow.
Most of the stories I learned about my village, culture, and tradition were passed-on-to me by my siblings. My father will seize every opportunity he had to gist me about his experience as a standard five teacher and his encounter with ghosts. I mean, if you are familiar with Manyu people, you should know by now that ghost outing is not a big deal to them.
I remember my brother once told me that when someone dies in any of the villages, before the corpse is laid to rest, selected fortified elders drop some herbs in his coffin. This is meant to do one of two things: for the dead to rise again or never resurrect (at least till Jesus returns). History has proven that Manyu people have incredible herbs that are inherent to their culture. These herbs, I think, if well exploited can greatly serve our pharmaceutical industry.
Herbs play an indispensable role in the lives of Manyu people especially their women. One of the surest things you are bound to experience if you are raised by a Manyu woman is OKEP. OKEP is any medicinal herb used as an enema. It is administered through the anus to newborns, toddlers, pregnant women, women trying to conceive, a woman who has just given birth and even men. Each age group has its own Okep to meet its specific health needs.
When my sister got pregnant with her first child, my mother came from the village with a couple of herbs as OKEP. One of the herbs was called "nsornkwi" which implies strength or to strengthen. It is believed that when a pregnant woman administers "nsornkwi" it fortifies the unborn child, helps build every part of his body so he comes out strong and healthy. It also helps to clean the fetus of any dirt and get him ready for the outside world. And once the baby arrives, about two weeks later or less, his soft ass is lifted up and okep goes through his anus to his rectum. This is believed to clean his stomach of any unclean thing he might bring from the world babies come from.
"When you see children born in Manyu and those born out of here who weren't administered enema, the difference is clear. Our children are stronger, very hardworking, passionately energetic, more resistant and are fighters" my mother would say.
I remember after my brother and his wife had their first son, conceiving the second was tough. My mum gave them no breathing space, putting pressure on them to fill the house with offsprings. Well, this is the story of every mother I suppose. They never have enough grandchildren.
And so she began to insinuate that perhaps it is a spiritual something causing my brother's wife not to conceive again. And so she embarked on a journey to finding the right OKEP which will cleanse her womb and make the sperm stick and fertilize the egg by hook or by crook.
She traveled all the way from Njeke - Mamfe with this okep to Kumba where my brother's wife resided to ensure she had it in the right proportion. Well, the good news is, nine months later, we welcomed a beautiful baby boy.
To be frank, my mum has been on my neck demanding that I give her grandchildren. I don't know why these mothers never seem to have enough.
"Why haven't you conceived and given birth yet? Do you have a problem? Does your stomach ache? Has the doctor given any report? You should tell me. In fact, you must come to the village and administer enema" she said countless times.
Just when I thought I'd escaped her incessant demands, my mum calls to inform me that she is in Yaounde and has brought my okep. Customised Okep!!!
"Don't joke with this eh. It costs me a lot to get these herbs for you. Administer them as I've instructed. And you'll see, it will work" she cautioned "Yes mama, I will use them. Thank you very much" I replied.
It is not as if I can't give birth. I've been pregnant before but you know what is said "man proposes, God disposes" right. So I just had to follow mama's instructions to make her happy.
It might interest you to know that these herbs might just be next to us but it takes an extra eye to see and appropriate them. I can't speak for other tribes but Bayangi people are well schooled in herbs. Some of this okep comes as seeds, leaves, stems and other as powder - each meeting different health needs.
Most interestingly, this enema is administered by people with no "medical" knowledge or "gynecological" experience. The secret of these herbs is passed-on from generation to another and their results have however been accurate at every instance.
My mum once revealed to me that pregnancy, enema helps to reduce complications associated with childbirth or minimise miscarriages. It equally acts as a ritual to ensure the health of pregnant women before and after birth. Well, enema is not only important to the women of this community, but also to the men. Though the men do not take it as often as the women do because men carry the sperm and frequently administering enema on a male might affect his potency as the sage would say.
If you ask me, I think enema is a source of wealth to the Manyu people (They've probably not seen it so yet). This is because the money that was supposed to be spent in the hospital to cater to the health of the women will be channeled to other things.
Therapeutically, it is a source of health to the people because it deals with abstract issues related to the health of the people. In the magico-religious domain, it acts as a link between the people and their ancestors from whom they find solutions to their health problems.
Though some people of high social class might not want to use okep, when modern medicine fails, these same people turn to traditional compositions in which they find solace.
For the records, okep isn't used at any time of the day. Very early before dawn or in the evening immediately after sunset are special hours for okep.
These gracious people also use their rich forest herbs to determine the fate of a dead person. That's a story for another day.
- Ayuk Renette Mbi