My name is Kathleen Ndongmo.
Sometime early this month, I went to the Douala International Airport to pick up my cousin who arrived on one of those ungodly-hour flights. While waiting, I was pressed and needed to use the toilets. Good upbringing means I wouldn’t ‘do it’ in the near-by bush, so I went to the arrivals area, walked up to an attending police officer at the entrance, greeted him in English and asked if I could use the toilets. He brazenly informed me that if I couldn’t speak in French, I could not use the toilets. I held my tongue and my bladder for over 3 hours.
In the last couple of weeks, I have spoken about recent protests on my social media pages and shared my thoughts and opinions as they unfold. In a recent episode on Twitter, I articulated the validity of the grievances put out by the various bodies and the legitimacy of their causes based on posterity. In response, many of my French-speaking compatriots told me to: ‘laissez nous vos betises la vous les anglos’. In the same vein, and in response to my opinions on Facebook, my English-speaking compatriots labeled me a ‘Francophone who does not understand the anglophone problem’.
Today, in the context of unfolding socio-political events, I — and many others like me — belong nowhere or do not belong by the definition imposed upon us by proponents on both sides of the language divide. Increasingly, people have developed a general unwillingness to confront facts or respect empirical data. Last year, I was at the immigration office to process my passport. I spent extra time explaining to the attending officer that it was possible for a Cameroonian to be named “Ndongmo” and to speak fluent English. This is the same explanation many of us whose ancestors migrated from their lands of origin to other lands within the national territory, are constantly coerced into explaining — sometimes in futility — to people whose primary focus is bigotry and/or whose foundation is ignorance.
There are many Cameroonians with strange “non-conformist” names. Many of those do not fall into a pre-set linguistic foundation. Many whose history, backgrounds and circumstances set them apart from pre-ordained societal stereotypes. So how does one distinguish a “Francophone’’ from an ‘’Anglophone’’ when introduced? How does one tell a Cameroonian? Is it by the colour of one’s skin? Is it by the passport they hold? Is it by place of birth, parents, origin? Is it by the official language you speak? And what if you speak both fluently? Who, really is a Cameroonian? This is the question that has kept me awake for hours and hours after reading narratives online that are steeped in intimidation, abuse and brazen contempt for other human beings of the same national territory.
After going round in circles, I have come to the conclusion that the various ‘nationalities’ that make up Cameroon do not have a shared goal; something like the American Dream which revolves around liberty and the prosperity that comes with it. Yes, our individual ‘nationalities’ have always had their value-systems. Yes, our founding fathers talked about unity in diversity. But since our independence, successive generations have shown that we do not care for those things they talked about. We have replaced those values with things like intolerance, corruption, greed, selfishness, mediocrity, bigotry and today; the unrepentant ostracizing of a group or groups of people. To make matters worse, most of the narratives about these very valid grievances are so full of hate that one would be forgiven for genuinely worrying about a Rwanda 2.0.
For many of us young people, the idea that we are Cameroonian is about necessity. It’s not about belief. It’s not about desire. It’s not about commonality or common ideology. This is why we have not had and do not have a “Cameroonian identity”. It’s amazing how increasingly, we want to be associated with our ethnic and official language identities more than our Cameroonian identity.
Some say it’s because the Cameroonian state doesn’t offer us much. But what exactly do our ethnic nationalities offer us? What do our religions offer us? What does our belonging to a particular colonially handed-down language offer us? The truth is we are only shortchanging ourselves by sticking to these differences. All over the world, the people who truly want to grow have abandoned their cultural differences and formed partnerships with strange fellows who have what they need. Which is why I personally feel that my history — as a descendant of Bamileke migrants — is a blessing in disguise. Had my ancestors not fled the uprising during colonial times to settle in other lands, I might not have fully comprehended the importance of living peacefully and productively with people of different ethnic and language foundations.
In Cameroon, many of our ‘nationalities’ have not done this. Yet, we wonder why things aren’t working. As a generation of young people, I believe the time has come for us to rethink our perception of our nation and what it needs to grow. We also need to start caring about ourselves as human beings; not about our tribes, the colonial language we speak, the part of Cameroon we come from and the religion(s) we practice. We need to start collectively working towards obtaining better governance and preparing for effective leadership.
I want a good life. I want a decent society to live in. I want the same — or even better — for my 5-year-old niece. If a Kuk man can make that happen, why not? If a Ngelemendouga woman will ensure there is uninterrupted electricity, why should I stand in her way because she is not Dschang? If a Mbonge man can provide an enabling environment for my business to thrive in, why should I not stand by him because he is not Yabassi? If a woman from Ndikiniméki will provide the best healthcare facilities for communities of people, why should I not support her because she is not from Kouoptamo?
Tomorrow — I hear — a big peace March has been planned. I hope it goes well. I wish its primary focus was governance-related. Because these days, I keep my eyes on the bigger picture and the bigger cause of “better governance because I deserve better and this one has not worked for 34 years’’. I ask myself the important questions like; how a project or policy adds value to my life and my community. I don’t sit wondering why it’s a Nguelebok man or a Tatum woman heading its implementation committee. I truly believe that the political transformation of Cameroon will only happen by collaboration and being purposefully divisive doesn’t help that possibility.
It is easy. It is easy because I have taken up a new identity. I am Cameroonian and I speak the language of my generation; not my father’s. Definitely not my colonial masters’.
*This article was published by Kathleen Ndongmo on January 1st, 2017 on medium.com. She describes herself as an activist and a social media denizen who is keen on good governance in Africa. We have published the article here in its original form