(Published by Langaa Research & Publishing CIG, 2008)
Reviewer: Peter Wuteh Vakunta, Ph.D [University of Wisconsin-Madison, USA]
Beware the Drives is a rich collection of poems intriguing in several aspects but the quality that captures the reader’s attention the most is the book’s depiction of Cameroon’s socio-political realities. The poet wields language deftly to represent human interests— the tribulations of a people taken hostage in their homeland. In his attempt to problematize the ramification of megalomania, power-mongering and moral degeneracy on developmental retrogression in Cameroon and Africa as a whole, Sammy Akombe has resource to sexual innuendos as seen in the following verses: “An entire nation is raped/ And left reeking in pain/ O, What cruelty.”(42)
The poet’s linguistic verve is manifest in his predilection for oxymoronic expressions: Over the decades/ We’ve been so used to being/So undemocratic/That/ Our own process of being/Quite democratic/ Is such a ridiculous rigmarole.”(45) These poems are an indictment of the abuse of democratic tenets .They resonate a clarion call to a collective soul-searching:“Count on conscience /At all times/ It loses patience/ And goes to sleep/ When evil gets the grip.”(16) The poet decries the prevalence of falsehood in a land yearning for candor: “Suppress the truth/And it’ll succumb but not crumble/ It’ll never die.”(45)
Beware the Drives capitalizes on vantage point. The poet has the conviction that a prey has the capability of becoming a predator depending on the vagaries of the wheel of fortune: “Oftentimes, an enemy/of the state / Is a darling/ of the people/ In a state like that/ I’m at pains whom/ to state/ as the real enemy.”(46) This book of poems is a documentation of troubled times; a panegyric written in praise of freedom fighters. The poet eulogizes the quest for freedom and justice in the following resounding terms: Most of the time/fighters of freedom/ Fight as much for themselves/As for others.”(46) Like Jean Jacques Rousseau in Les Confessions (), Akombe contends that man is born good but is corrupted by society; free but everywhere in chains: “It’s hard to believe/ That the perpetrators of the deeds/ Were once innocent babies/ Fragile and vulnerable” (42).
His angst is not limited to domestic emasculators of justice. He casts interrogating eyes on those who aid and abet the neo-colonization of the continent of Africa as these lines lucidly indicate: “I knew by name all the players/of Olympique Marseille/But knew none of those playing /For Olympique Mvolye/Who says we’re are done with colonialism.”(38)
Beware the Drives pits God’s omnipotence against man’s puny endeavors to undo divine volition. “Beware the drives. They take you to the top/The same drives, drive you down the bottom.”(4) The reader is left pondering whether Akombe is a servant of Satan or an apostle of God: “When the gods watch a race/They watch out for its pace…/So there’s no race /The gods look forward to/ Like the race with hurdles.”(3) His willful toying with the reader’s emotions is palpable in the following lines: “There’s no greater awe/Than that a squalling toddler/ Shoots up to be a Jesus…/ or An Adolf Hitler.”(6) These lines bring to the fore Akome’s pensive reflections on the dualism characteristic of our humanness. His gratification derives from knowing that his message has attained the desired target: “The goodness of writing/ Is in the goodness of knowing /That someone out there/In the maddening crowd/ Can step aside/ And give your work a nod.”(11)
The didactic undertones of this book of poems endow it with the strength of an existential blueprint. Heed the poet’s sagacious admonition in the following lines: “Modesty can cope/With both prosperity and adversity/ But vanity can cope/ Only with prosperity.”(13) Or the following lines pregnant with meaning:” The living like a traveler on foot/ Must from time to time put down their load/ to pause and ponder for some rest.”(13)
Akombe does not gloss over the futile squabbles that continually wreak havoc in his native land: “In Norfolk, some folks/ spat on me/Because I’m African…/ In Yaoundé, some folks/ Spat on me/ Because I’m silly Anglo/Where then and when /Will folks stop/ Spitting on me?”(15) It is tempting to brand this poet a misanthropist. Nothing is farther from the truth! He sees much good in the woman beings who he perceives as paragons of virtue: “Women go down as beings of great tolerance/ They can cope with/Both ugliness/of the heart and that of the face.”(18) His fictionalization of romantic love is manifest in the following lines: “Love is neither wealth nor poverty/ It is neither ugliness nor beauty…/ Love is simply love.”(30) Tongue in cheek, the poet chastises the macho mentality of men who resort to physical abuse as a modus operandi for obtaining feminine affection: “Wives shouldn’t be appalled/When husbands resort to beating/They do it for want of giving something.”(18) His poems are a hymn in praise of moral rectitude: “When you are upright, everything is all right.”(59)
Beware the Drives is a medley of praise and remonstrance. It is a rap on the bellicosity flaunted by belligerent pretenders to the ‘throne’ of Bakassi: “A bite of the Bight of Biafra/Once provoked a terrible war…What a waste!”(23) Notice the alliterative melody produced by Akombe’s conscientious choice of words in the verses above: bite, Bight, Biafra. Or this interesting one: “Avoid the back as you do the plague/ For of course not much good comes off it/ Backache/ Backward/ Backwoods/ Backwaters/ Backfire/ Backbite/ Backstab.”(34)
Akombe debunks endemic corruption: “Corruption is like sinking sand/On which no solid foundation can stand.”(49)
In a nutshell, Beware the Drives qualifies as a multifaceted piece of instructive writing with the potential to stand the test of time. Each poem is an entity sufficient onto itself, harboring a specific theme. The language is clear and free of sophistry. The didactic value of the book resides in its suitability to readers of all ages. It is hoped that it will be commissioned to fulfill the didactic function it was meant to perform.
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