Up Station Mountain Club

Cameroon and the Anglophone problem: How to quench the erupting volcano?

Today Cameroon should be attracting and reassuring investors in view of its emergence slated for 2035. But the country is rather facing poignant emergencies such as rampant corruption, massive youth unemployment, daunting insecurity with attacks by Boko Haram, etc. And worse still, in these final weeks of 2016, it is the Anglophone problem that can throw the country into disarray. It is up to the State authorities and the elites, without any distinction of political leanings, to understand this crisis and work out appropriate solutions in full responsibility. This can only be achieved through a serene and honest dialogue with the real representatives of the angry but not desperate Anglophone community, whose obvious wish is to be considered and listened to, and not insulted or ignored as it has so far been the case.
I - What exactly is the Anglophone problem?
Maybe the average Francophone cannot fully grasp the problem with Anglophones. Only the one wearing tight shoes can feel the pinch, but the powers that be should understand it and stop turning a blind eye to the issue. The Anglophone problem is a set of demands formulated in various ways and on many occasions by Anglophones in Cameroon. These are identity and language claims that actually question the form of the State. Indeed in 1961, the Anglophones formed a two-state federation with the Francophones, but today Anglophones are merely two administrative regions out of ten. Their grievances should be received and examined, accepted or rejected, just like in any normal democratic setup. But Anglophones cannot simply be contemptuously turned away or ignored, accused of identifying themselves in relation to a foreign language, told that the malaise is national and not just Anglophone, or be brutalized by the police. Such responses from the State exacerbate tensions in a country where the right to protest is guaranteed.
Anglophones are not just Cameroonians who speak English as their first official language, as opposed to those whose first official language is French. As Simo Bobda (2001) argues, being an Anglophone in Cameroon is a more ethnic, cultural and regional concept than a linguistic categorization. This definition excludes the Francophones who have long settled in the Anglophone area, even though they may possess economic assets or family ties there, as we analyzed in our book Fifty Years of Bilingualism in Cameroon - What Perspectives in Africa? (L'Harmattan, Paris, 2010). This approach also excludes Francophones with Anglo-Saxon education, and those who have studied in Anglophone schools in French-speaking Cameroon. In short, Anglophones in Cameroon do have a particular cultural identity, a limited geographical space and a specific sociopolitical history, even before being a linguistic community. With this clarification in mind, we can better and fully grasp the nature and the scope of the Anglophone problem, which is today causing riots and tensions in the South-West and in the North-West.
II - A brief historical flashback
When France and Great Britain took over from Germany in Cameroon from 1916, this created a Cameroonian Anglophone community living in 1/5 of the territory on the one hand, and a Francophone community living in 4/5 of the country on the other hand. The Anglophone minority was used to relative political and cultural autonomy during the British indirect rule colonization. But France applied a strict Jacobin type of centralism in the Francophone zone, coupled with linguistic and cultural assimilation, though Cameroon was not technically a French colony. One can therefore understand Anglophones' uneasiness within a highly centralized State, which the first Francophone president saw as the best way to achieve rapid development in peace and unity. After adopting French-English bilingualism based on biculturalism in 1961, reunited Cameroon became the meeting ground of French and English, two of the most prestigious languages ​​in the world.
Indeed, the new political dispensation allowed the country to take advantage of the great heritage of French (a beautiful language of Latin origin spoken by more than 400 million people worldwide, full of refinement, enriched and defended since 1539 by generations of writers and scholars, and present in more than 70 countries and territories). In addition, the country would benefit from the prestige of English (an international language spoken by one billion people around the world, which is dominant in strategic sectors such as communication, diplomacy, business, etc.). But the blessing of adopting English in Cameroon has seemingly become a curse, or at least has contributed in giving rise to the Anglophone problem. Why? Just because in the course of its implementation since 1961, Cameroon's bilingualism has run into a number of difficulties: the law of the majority has conferred a de facto preponderance on French, despite all relevant constitutional provisions; the promotion of bilingualism has remained minimal or just academic, instead of being systematically implemented through specific laws and regulations in each sector like in South Africa; bilingualism has become lopsided as it is not always supported by strict biculturalism. In the end, Anglophones cannot culturally enrich or impact the governing system in Cameroon, hence their feeling of being assimilated by the Francophones. In that respect, in 1964 in the Cameroon cultural review Abbia, Bernard Fonlon in an article entitled We Should Make or Mar, had the following complaint to make: "After Reunification, we now drive our cars on the right, the franc has replaced the pound as our currency, the academic year has been aligned with that of the Francophones, the metric system has replaced the British measurement units, but in vain have I have looked for a single institution brought back from Anglophone Cameroon. Anglophones' cultural influence is virtually nil ".
Even when Anglophones are appointed to high positions in the administration, their cultural and linguistic specificities should be protected by relevant and binding laws and regulations. In his book entitled My Faith, a Cameroon to Refurbish (Véritas, Douala, 2010), Christian Cardinal Tumi writes: "The daily anguish of the Anglophone Prime Minister on certain issues, the repeated, chronic and open disregard for him from some members of the government just aggravate a situation which is already very embarrassing ". Official bilingualism cannot just be used to conceal or cover up the State's failures in other important aspects of national unity or harmony.
III – What are Anglophones' Worries?
The main threat to the Anglophone sociological entity in Cameroon came on May 20, 1972: Ahmadou Ahidjo organized a referendum to put an end to the federal system that had been in place since 1961. Under that dispensation, the Anglophones constituted a federated state and were able to manage their own local and regional affairs without any interference from the Francophones. But of what significance are the Soviet-like results of a popular consultation organized in a context of tyranny and single-party politics? Ahidjo's political maneuver was just a trick to neutralize and better assimilate the Anglophones, with the overt and covert complicity of France. In that connection Christian Cardinal Tumi, still in his book quoted above, writes (on page 33) that a French diplomat in Rome had told him that France's policy in Cameroon was "to wipe out the Anglo-saxon culture of the Anglophone minority in Cameroon ".
At any rate, since 1972 the Anglophones in Cameroon have been able to realize, with Ahidjo and even after him, the real meaning of the unitary State for them: adamant political marginalization, impossibility for them to head a number of key ministerial departments (Finance, Foreign Affairs, Territorial Administration, Education, Defense, etc.), Francophone administrative authorities in Anglophone areas, the absence of good roads linking the South-west to the North-West, the growing political divide between the two Anglophone regions, the dilution of the Anglophone cultural heritage, the non-respect of the Anglophone Prime Minister by some Francophone cabinet members, the publication of official texts mostly in French, etc. It was after realizing that huge trickery that John Ngu Foncha, who had led the Anglophones to the 1961 Reunification, opted to resign in 90s and demanded a return to federalism.
With the return to a multiparty system in the 90s, Anglophone group unity began to crumble. Political opposition between their two regions was exacerbated. After the All Anglophone Conference (AAC) and the meeting of Anglophone teachers and parents in Buea in 1993, the two Anglophone regions remained politically divided. Worse still, through their elites and traditional rulers, they engaged a fierce competition for the State favors. The contention intensified in the 1990s after Achidi Achu (from the North-West) and Mafany Musonge (from the South-West) were alternately appointed prime ministers, from 1992 to 1996 for the former, and from 19996 to 2004 for the latter. They both proclaimed that politic na njangi, just a way to say that politics is a game of interest in which the ruling party gives favors only to the constituencies that have given them their votes. That mercantilist and non-democratic conception of power politics, which gave rise to unspeakable backstage maneuvers for appointment positions, was detrimental to the values ​​that characterized Anglophones: restraint, hard work, moral probity, transparency, honesty, selflessness and dedication. And not surprisingly many Anglophones were subsequently seen indulging in fraud, the rigging of elections, the corruption of traditional rulers, the embezzlements of public funds, etc.
Concerning the educational system, a serious threat to the Anglophone entity was the francophonization of technical and vocational education. Indeed, technical secondary schools in the English-speaking area have operated since 1972 like in the francophone zone, and their pupils had to write the same examinations such as the CAP, the technical Probatoire and the Bac, even after the GCE Board was created. Worse still, most technical education teachers were Francophones until the year 2009, when the first Higher Teachers' Training College for Technical Education was opened in Bambili in the North-West region. Moreover, since colonial times the Anglophones have always made it a point of honor to inculcate civic values to young children (good morality and citizenship, hard work, obedience, etc.). That was achieved through religion and moral education courses taught at all levels, in public schools as well as in secular and denominational institutions. These two subjects were officially disqualified in 1976 by presidential decree as criteria for admission to university or to employment in Cameroon. The Anglophones saw in that move a desire to radically francophonize their school subsystem.
Following the creation of Anglo-Saxon universities after the massive failures of Anglophone students in the bilingual national universities, the Anglophones noted that Francophone lecturers were appointed to teach or to manage those Anglo-Saxon institutions. This could be seen as real attack on the Anglophones' specific cultural identity. A similar threat was the migration to the Anglophone areas of thousands of Francophone students attracted by the high quality of the Anglophone subsystem. Indeed, many Francophone students and their parents had discovered, after the inception of the GCE Board in 1993 and the admission of Cameroon to the Commonwealth in 1995, that Anglophone certificates could open up more doors worldwide than Francophone diplomas. As a result, France was no longer the first destination for serious undergraduate or post-graduate studies: Cameroonian students preferred to study in the US, Canada, the RSA, India, etc. And to get better prepared for that, the Anglophone subsystem was the ready answer. These new linguistic Anglophones, expected to increase in number as time goes by, can gradually turn the original ethnic Anglophones into a minority among all English-speaking Cameroonians.
IV - The Responsibility of the State
Such are the hard facts, as seen through Anglophones' eyes. What should the State do at this point in time? The difficulties faced by Anglophones are of identity, socio-political and linguistic in nature, with many psychological implications. Therefore the first measure towards solving the Anglophone problem is human and communicational: finding credible mediators who can really build the bridges and destroy the walls, in order to (re)establish dialogue between the concerned parties. Then the second step should be technical and scientific. The 1996 Constitution, by establishing a decentralized unitary State, has visibly failed to create the desired level of harmony in Cameroon. The persistence of the Anglophone malaise is clear evidence of that failure. The country needs a strong national unity combined with a real regional autonomy. That is the system at work in the US, in South Africa, in Germany, and even in neighboring Nigeria. It is called federalism. It allows democratically elected officials placed at different levels of hierarchical responsibility - local, regional and federal - to manage the country according to the rule of law, and with due respect for objectivity, fairness and accountability. But Cameroonian experts and constitutionalists could also invent for their country a form of federalism that is even more adapted.
The government and the governed, to preserve the unity of the nation, must stop seeing anglophonization as a threat to some, and francophonization as death to others. Besides, the governed are sometimes ahead of the government: many Francophone families in Yaoundé and Douala have anglophonized their children without getting the green light from the State. The future of Cameroon will be a judicious anglophonisation/francophonisation of a number of cultural elements that came to us either from France or from England. And if our national interest one day requires us to borrow some ways of doing things from Germany, China or Japan, shall we refuse that move just to keep our cherished Francophone or Anglophone identity? It is high time we changed our way of thinking, and started behaving as Cameroonians aware of building their future as Africans in a global context of rapid change.
Indeed, as discussed in my recent book Time for Africa's Emergence? With Focus on Cameroon (USA, 2016), in this era of globalization, Africa's emergence will rely more on our geography than on our history. It is therefore up to us to strike the right balance between our identity and our aspirations that is between our roots and our wings. But it should be noted that federalism in Cameroon would be a boon not only to Anglophone regions, but also to many other regions whose elites have been sending memoranda for years to the central government. These regionalist claims clearly express the thirst of all Cameroonians for a better distribution of national wealth, a better conduct of local affairs, and a better management of regional peculiarities. Obviously each and every region would like to be part of a well-managed country where all the citizens, in harmony with one another, can develop their full potential through hard work, in strict respect of their individual as well as collective rights?
 
Conclusion
Today the urgency for the State in Cameroon, conscious of its obligations before History, should be to appease Anglophones while correcting or redressing any institutional dysfunctions to preserve or perfect our national unity. The Anglophone problem (or any other similar set of grievances) is actually a thermometer that reveals high temperature, the urgent need to reform our institutions to enhance our living together. In that respect, and by way of example, the educational system is a great tool for a sound homogenization of the rising generations without sacrificing natural regional diversity, and not a nursery where short-sighted politicians can sow the seeds of future hatred and discord. More importantly, what the Anglophone regions are asking for (that is more freedom, autonomy, political initiative, better local government, etc.) is also good for other regions in the country. In the final analysis, the Anglophone problem is the manifestation of the discomfort of a community aspiring to better living conditions, but it also reveals a need that can be found all over the country. Obviously 22 million Cameroonians cannot be governed today with the same reflexes, methods and institutions as in 1972, when the country had only 6 million inhabitants. Courtesy, Sa'ah François GUIMATSIA

The Status of Pidgin English in the Cameroonian Tower of Babel

Peter Wuteh Vakunta, Ph.D.

Introduction

The Republic of Cameroon, a post-colony situated in central Africa, is a hotchpotch of languages and cultures. According to Ngefac (2012), the country boasts approximately 285 indigenous languages, two contact languages (Kamtok and Camfranglais), and two official languages (English and French), generally catalogued as imperial languages (Echu, 2005; Rosendal, 2008; Ayafor, 2005; Anchimbe, 2006; Kouega, 2008). Cameroonian  indigenous languages include Afro-Asiatic languages, Nilo-Saharan languages, Ubangian languages, and Niger-Congo languages. This latter group is divided into one Senegambian language (Fulfulde), 28 Adamawa languages, and 142 Benue-Congo languages (130 of which are Bantu languages). French and English constitute a heritage of Cameroon's colonial past as a colony of both France and the United Kingdom from 1916 to 1961. More often than not, this Babelian diversity serves as an incubator of tribal, ethnic and socio-political animosities. As Oyegoke (2014: p.97) puts it, “Babel is a site of fragmentation; linguistic and cultural harmonies and unities giving way to cultural and linguistic disharmonies and disunities.” Yet, there is no gainsaying the fact that linguistic harmony plays a non-negligible role in the process of nation building. Writing along similar lines, Laureys (2008) observes that the notion of ethnolinguistic nationalism coined by Eric Hobsbawm in his innovative work on nationalism in Europe stresses the fact that a common language in many cases functions as a vehicle for the shaping of a national identity. In this light, it is easy to see how the most intractable problem relating to national integration in Cameroon stems from its linguistic plurality and skewed language policies.

It is in this light that Ayafor (2005: p.124) observes, “ethnic diversity… threatens national unity in terms of territorial integrity more than anything else in the country.” In other words, Cameroon’s linguistic heterogeneity functions as an obstacle to cross-lingual and intercultural discourses. Echu (2005: p.1) strikes the right note when he posits, “the policy of official language bilingualism, originally aimed at guaranteeing political integration and unity of the Cameroon State, now seems to constitute a source of conflict and political disintegration.”  The problem with Cameroon’s brand of bilingualism is that it does not grant official status to any of the indigenous languages existent in the country. The product of this status quo is that Cameroonians are divided into disparate groups with distinctive linguistic loyalties that often breed internal strife, undermine effective inter-ethnic relationships and threaten the very survival of the nation-state. In the absence of a dependable language policy, Cameroon’s most pressing need remains that of a common medium of communication and instruction that is inclusive of all social strata and ethnic identities. Anchimbe (2006: p.96) notes that in “promoting its bilingual language education policy, the government has largely disregarded the multilingual makeup of the country. Indigenous languages play only a secondary role…” This status quo is a stark contradiction of the wording of the country’s revised constitution of 1996 (Sec.1.1.3) which stipulates, “The official languages of the country shall be English and French, both having the same status. The state shall guarantee the promotion of bilingualism throughout the country. It shall endeavor to promote and protect national languages.” The fundamental flaw of this constitutional stipulation on official bilingualism in Cameroon is that it falls short of providing a clear working definition. It is not clear what level of linguistic proficiency Cameroonian citizens must attain in order to demonstrate officially sanctioned bilingualism. Worse still, the constitution simply glosses over the dichotomy between individual and state bilingualism. In a linguistically pluralistic nation such as Cameroon, bilingualism could mean fluency in English and French; English and a national language; French and a national language; Pidgin English and a national language; a national language and another national language, and more.  Besides, proficiency in any of these languages could vary from zero plus to near-perfection. It is in this perspective that Rosendal (2008:p.25) makes the following observation: “The extent of bilingualism in French and English in Cameroon is hard to estimate. Bilingual proficiency varies from zero to near perfect at the universities, depending on how semi-bilingualism, functional bilingualism and passive bilingualism are defined.”

Cameroon’s underdevelopment conundrum is an offshoot of its dead-letter language policies, the more so because language, culture and development are interrelated. One topic that is recurrent in discourses relating to national development in this age of globalization is the question of language as a corollary of human empowerment. Language access is a human rights issue. The right to language accessibility ranks top on the list of grievances leveled against governments by linguistic minorities around the globe. Such claims continue to pose problems today ranging from the official status of minority languages, language of instruction and language use in schools and other institutions such as the mass media. Language plays a vital role in knowledge creation and the dissemination of knowledge on a whole range of social, economic and political issues at national and global levels.  Evidently, there is need for dialogue between locally produced knowledge and knowledge imported from other sources. It is impossible for this kind of dialogue to transpire if people are being marginalized and excluded based on their linguistic minority status in their countries of origin.  In Cameroon, indigenous languages seem to seem to find themselves in a permanent state of victimhood.

Status of Cameroonian indigenous languages

The major factors that tend to militate against the recognition of Cameroonian indigenous languages as official languages are legion but suffice it to underscore the following salient points: colonial legacy, negative attitudes toward indigenous languages, misconception of the notion of bilingualism, and defective language and policy conceptualization.  In the following paragraphs, we will dwell on these phenomena with the aim of making a case for the promotion of Pidgin English to the status of an official language in the Cameroonian Tower of Babel.

Colonial legacy

Historical evidence shows that the French and British imperial powers imposed their languages and cultures on natives in each of the two regions that they governed, namely French-speaking and English-speaking Cameroons for a variety of reasons. According to Bamgbose (2011), objectives differ from one colonial power to another, ranging from assimilation to the culture of the occupying power to the selective grooming of elites that would relate to the masses in their own cultures.  Regardless of the motives behind the colonial assimilation process, the outcome was the same for Anglophone and Francophone Cameroons, namely that the languages of the colonial powers were dominant and African languages took the backstage in terms of usage and status. The elites who were groomed in the colonial education system developed a disdain for their mother tongues. Though they constituted a minority, they wielded immense power because of their proficiency in the language of the colonizers.  This colonial legacy has persisted in Cameroon to the point where French and English have remained official languages to date. Proposals aimed at linguistically empowering the majority of Cameroonians who cannot express themselves in French or English have met with stiff opposition from the political elite because of two fundamental reasons: “elite closure” (Scotton & Ury 1977: p.27). Scotton defines “elite closure” as the monopoly of the language power by the elites and resistance on their part to extend this jealously guarded power to other groups. The second factor has to do with what Gellar (1973: p.385) refers to as “inheritance situation.” He sheds light on this linguistic phenomenon by describing it as the situation where the policies and practices from the colonial period continue to determine post-colonial policies and practices. The effect of the colonial policy of assimilation in Cameroon is that the hegemony of imported languages, which began during the colonial era, has persisted. Additional evidence of the continued dominance of imperial languages in Cameroon is the choice of the medium of instruction, which has remained substantially in these colonial languages, particularly at secondary and tertiary levels.

Another colonial legacy that has accounted for the low status of Cameroonian indigenous languages is the partition of the country into arbitrary geographic divisions based on artificial borders created from the balkanization of Africa during the Berlin Conference of 1884-85. The palpable consequence of this fragmentation is that identical or related languages have been splintered into several trans-border languages (Chumbow & Tamanji, 2000). According to these scholars, Cameroon shares as many as seventy cross-border languages with neighboring countries such as Nigeria, with which it shares as many as forty-five languages. The effect of this colonial meddling in the socio-political and territorial affairs of Africa is the diminished strength accorded to each cross-border language in the territories concerned, thereby reducing its claim to enhanced status and correspondingly accentuating the dominance of imported languages. Consequently, a trans-border language that should have served as an instrument of integration becomes a divisive force, given that a different imported language in each territory wields it. Another fact that accounts for the low status of indigenous languages in Cameroon is the negative attitudes of Cameroonians toward their mother tongues.  While the foregoing factors may be perceived as residing beyond the control of Cameroonians, the question of an apathetical attitude toward the indigenous African language resides with those who speak these languages.

Negative attitude toward the indigenous languages

Contrary to expectations, most Cameroonians tend to shun their native tongues, opting to communicate in French or English with friends and family. Ngefac (2012: p.163) notes that “…many Cameroonians show an attitude of rejection towards languages that are rooted in the sociocultural and sociolinguistic realities of Cameroon, predictably because the colonial indoctrination and the slave trade mentality still hold sway in this postcolonial multilingual nation.” He buttresses this claim by noting that official business of Cameroon is transacted solely in French and English and no indigenous language enjoys this official language status. The most active purveyors of this negative attitudinal mindset are Cameroonian elites who have been brainwashed in Western-style schools. It is common in Cameroon to find a couple who speak the same indigenous language but prefer to communicate with their offspring in imperial languages. Another type of negative attitude noticeable in Cameroon is one that denigrates Cameroonians who speak a less commonly taught language such as Pidgin English and Camfranglais[i]. Interestingly, Pidgin is the only language spoken by the majority of Cameroonians.  These negative attitudes have imperiled effective language planning in Cameroon for decades. Ngefac (2012: p.164) echoes the same concern which he observes that this “… mentality  also prevailed during the colonial administration, especially during the French colonial policy of Direct Rule, which aimed at stripping the colonized indigenes of their “barbaric” and “primitive” ways of life, introducing them to the “super” French culture and eventually transforming them into French overseas citizens.” The French were determined to annihilate indigenous languages and cultures in a bid to transform indigenes into French people. In order to attain this objective, they deemed it necessary to strip Africans of their cultures and inculcate into the French culture and worldview. This vision of the world inherited from the colonial era has significantly shaped the attitude of Cameroonians toward their own languages, cultures and identities. This explains why more than six decades after gaining independence from colonial masters, Cameroonians are still unable to design an indigenous language policy for themselves. This explains why pleas aimed at raising Cameroon Pidgin English to the status of an official language have been ignored. Cameroon Pidgin English has been outlawed on some university campuses, notably the campus of the University of Buea in the Southwest Region of Cameroon. The foregoing observations provide irrefutable evidence that the concept of bilingualism has been misconstrued in Cameroon.

Misconception of bilingualism in Cameroon

Bilingualism has proven to be a double-edged sword in Cameroon. It is a topic of great interest to many, yet no one fully grasps the significance of this elusive linguistic phenomenon in the developmental trajectory of the nation state. Officially, Cameroon is construed as a bilingual nation. This is ironic given the multi-linguistic landscape of the country. The usage of French and English during the French and British colonial eras in Cameroon (1916-1958) favored the choice of these languages as official languages. As Echu (1999: p.3) puts it, “Depuis 1961, date de la mise en vigueur de la constitution fédérale, le Cameroun suit une politique de bilinguisme officiel. Le français et l’anglais sont les deux langues officielles, une situation qui se fonde aussi bien dans la situation historico-politique que linguistique du pays.”(3)[ii] Romaine (1995) notes that bilingualism has often been defined and described in terms of categories, scales and dichotomies such as ideal versus partial bilingual; coordinate versus compound bilingual and so on. These different definitions correlate with factors such as proficiency and linguistic function. At the end of the spectrum of definitions of bilingualism it would be like Bloomfield’s concept of bilingualism (1953) which underscores “native-like control of two languages” as the criterion for   laying claim to bilingualism. Diebold (1964), however, provides what may be called a minimal definition of bilingualism when he uses the term “incipient bilingualism” to characterize the initial stages of contact between two languages. In doing so, he leaves open the question of the absolute minimal proficiency required in order to be bilingual and allows for the fact that a person may be bilingual to some degree, yet not be able to produce complete meaningful utterance (Romaine, 1995). According to Romaine, a person might have no productive control over a language, but be able to understand utterances in it. In such instances, linguists generally speak of ‘passive’ or ‘receptive’ bilingualism. Hockett (1956) uses the term ‘semi-bilingualism’ to describe the same phenomenon. Over time, the concept of bilingualism has become broader and more elastic. It is in this light that Romaine, maintains that bilingualism exists within cognitive systems of individuals, as well as in families and communities. Psychologists have investigated the effects of bilingualism on mental processes. On the other hand, sociologists tend to treat bilingualism as an element in cultural conflict. They look at some of the consequences of linguistic heterogeneity as a societal phenomenon. Educationalists show a lot of interest in the interrelationship between bilingualism and educational policy conceptualization. Basic questions about the nexus between bilingualism and intelligence also arouse interest of educationists.

When Cameroonians adumbrate the term “bilingualism”, it is often not clear whether they are referring to individual or national bilingualism. Central to discourses relating to bilingualism is the need to distinguish between these two facets of bilingual competence, namely societal and individual bilingualism. On the one hand, individual bilingualism refers to the ability of an individual to use two or more languages (Muysken & Appel 1987, pp.1-3). Individual bilingualism has to do with the parameters that could enable the individual to become proficient through teaching and the effects that factors such as age and linguistic interference could have on second language acquisition (Chaika, 1934: p.34).On the other hand, societal bilingualism refers to a situation where two or more languages are in use. As far as societal bilingualism is concerned, emphasis should be put on the kinds of languages spoken in a given country and by whom, for what purpose, and the effect bilingualism has on the socio-economic development of that particular community. Grasping the fundamental differences between these two kinds of bilingualism in Cameroon is of critical importance given that it enables policy-makers to determine the sorts of resources and frameworks needed to achieve set goals.

Another problem that often arises in discourses pertaining to bilingualism in Cameroon is the question of degree of bilingualism or communicative competence in the two languages that the individual speaks.  It is in this light that Romaine (1995, p.14) observes: “Since communicative competence has to do with both rules of grammar (understood here in the widest sense as embracing phonology, grammar, lexicon and semantics) and rules for their use in socially appropriate circumstances, it is possible that a bilingual will be lacking in some aspects of communicative competences for one of the languages.” The notion of official bilingualism in Cameroon is ill defined in the sense that it fails to provide information on which type of language is official. In other words, the concept does not provide information regarding the languages that the government deems official—national or languages of the ex-colonizer.

Chumbow (1990, p.288) confounds the problem further when he maintains:

English-French bilingualism has been dubbed the official language policy of Cameroon and we shall continue to refer to it as such. However, it is important to point out that technically speaking, it isn’t really a language policy; for a language policy, from a sociolinguistic perspective, is normally part of a careful and judicious language planning based on a detailed study of a wide range of socio-economic variables relevant to the state’s development needs(both in the short and long terms).  He further notes that the choice of English and French as official languages was not based on any elaborate linguistic or paralinguistic research. It was dictated by pragmatism. One other intractable problem relating to bilingual practice in Cameroon is the unwillingness of politicians to conflate language policies with national development planning. This shortcoming has nefarious consequences for national integration and unity. As Chiatoh (2012, p.66) observes,

“It is widely accepted that bilingualism and bilingual education constitute a valuable asset in individual and societal construction. However, when not properly conceived, the implementation of these concepts could have very devastating consequences on national cohesion especially in minority settings where minority groups are subjected to unfair subjugation by mainstream languages.”

These observations have wide-ranging implications for language planning and the choice of a language policy in Cameroon that is foolproof.

Defective language planning and conceptualization

The inability of the political leadership to comprehend the potency of bilingualism as a paradigm for national (re)construction in Cameroon tool has led to a status quo where official languages, namely, English and French are employed for the purpose of division, mutual exclusion, self-denial, and animosity. This counter-productive system has proven to be inimical to national development.  Elaborating the point further, Chiatoh (2012, p.66) explains that “such a system ‘remains fundamentally flawed and has helped in deepening existing frustration among citizens, thereby, prolonging a rather undesirable situation of division and exclusion.” Language policy constitutes the cornerstone of a country’s nation-building endeavors. The primacy of language planning is even greater in a linguistically pluralistic society such as Cameroon given that satisfaction with the nation’s language policies often determines the degree to which citizens embrace nation-building efforts. Tollefson (2002, p.5) drives home the point when he posits:

 […] in order to understand language policy debates and the role of language policy in contemporary States, we must examine the underlying social, economic, and political struggles that language can symbolize. The symbolic value of language can have profound consequences, not only for language minorities seeking to negotiate complex and changing identities, but also for dominant groups seeking to retain various forms of political and economic power.

What this all portends is that it behooves policy-makers, regardless of their territoriality, to play a seminal role in the choice of official languages that harbor the potential to play a contributory role in national integration and identity sustenance. This has wide-ranging ramifications on the choice of official languages.

Toward a quadrilingual policy in Cameroon

It is a known fact that members of every linguistic community tend to reject any attempts to deprive them of their mother tongues. Cameroon is no exception. The reality of the Cameroonian situation is that although some ethnic groups tolerate speakers of other ethnic groups and may even voluntarily learn to communicate with them, they vehemently oppose any threats, real or imagined that undermine the importance of their own indigenous languages. The implication of this is that national policy-planners must have the foresight to take the languages and cultures of the different peoples that make up the national tapestry into consideration. Selecting an official language in an ethnically heterogeneous entity such as Cameroon has political, economic, and social implications. Tadadjeu (1985, p.180) has identified two factors that might affect the conceptualization of language policies in Cameroon. Primarily, he suggests that Cameroonian policy-makers should include Pidgin English as a vehicle for the expression of a Cameroonian national identity. Second, he contends that Cameroonian bilingualism has reached a point now where it should metamorphose into a quadrilingual status that allows Cameroonians to gain proficiency in English, French and Pidgin English in addition to their mother tongues. It should be noted that given the plurilingual configuration of Cameroon, a quadrilingual policy is practically feasible and culturally rewarding.  The prevailing status quo where bilingualism is limited to proficiency in two colonial languages defies logic. Among its many shortcomings is the fact that Cameroon’s current bilingual policy has led to the marginalization of minority linguistic communities. One such minority grouping is the community of Pidginophones. Pidgin has all the attributes required to become an official language in Cameroon. It is a neutral language not indigenous to any of the ethnic groups in Cameroon.

A case for the adoption of Pidgin English as an official language

For the sake of socio-political cohesion and pacific inter-ethnic cohabitation in Cameroon, this paper advocates the choice of a “neutral” language that would be tolerated and spoken throughout the country at all levels. Pidgin fulfills this function. Pidgin is a lingua franca that tears down ethnic boundaries. It builds communicative bridges between the hundreds of tribal groupings that exist in Cameroon, and is regarded by Cameroonians “as a major lingua franca… spoken by 50% of the population” (Kouega, 2008, p.11). Pidgin is a medium of communication for people who have no first language in common. It functions as a vehicular language, the language of trade and the medium through which people who speak different languages are able to communicate and socialize. All inter-ethnic animosities tend to dissipate when Cameroonians communicate through the medium of Pidgin English. Most importantly, Pidgin English grammar is simple and easy to learn given the fact that its grammar is akin to that of most indigenous languages spoken in Cameroon as seen in the following examples involving the use of verbs. You will notice that Pidgin English verbs do not change to agree with the subject as illustrated in the following examples culled from Todd (1991, p.11):

A di go. (I’m going.)

Yu di go. (You’re going.)

I di go. (He/she/it is going.)

Wi di go. (We are going.)

Wuna di go. (You plural are going.)

Dehm di go. (They are going.)

Echu (2003, p. 2) has identified five different varieties of Pidgin English, also known as Kamtok (from Cameroon Talk), namely, Grafi Pidgin English (the variety spoken in the grassfields in  the Northwest Region and often referred as “Grafi Tok”);  Francophone Pidgin English (the variety spoken in cities such as Douala, Bafoussam, Nkongsamba and Yaoundé); Limbe Pidgin English (the variety spoken in the Southwest coastal area around the seaport);  Bororo Pidgin English (the variety spoken by Bororo cattle traders) and liturgical Pidgin English (the variety used by the Catholic Church). Ethnologue (2002) estimates the number of Pidginophones[i] in Cameroon to be about two million. Notice that Pidgin English has become a mother tongue in many urban communities in Cameroon. It is spoken throughout the national territory for out-group communication purposes between people from different tribes and ethnic groups. It has become a language of the media. Cameroon now has radio broadcast programs in Pidgin English in Douala (FM 105), Buea (Mount Cameroon Radio), Yaoundé (Radio Siantou) and Bamenda (Northwest Regional Radio Station). Pidgin English is a language of advertisement and musical production. Popular musicians such as Lapiro de Mbanga, Prince Nico Mbarga, John Minang, Longue Longue and Francis Ndom have adopted Pidgin as a language of show business and political militancy as illustrated in the excerpt from one of Lapiro’s tracks below:

           We no wan kick-oh

           We no wan go for ngata

           We de daso for ndengwe

           A beg mimba we-oh, yes tara.

           We no wan problem para

           We no wan go for Ndengui

           We di fain daso garri

           For helep we own famili-oh![ii]

Lapiro sings mostly in Pidgin English because this language enables him to reach out to the downtrodden in Cameroon. The importance of Pidgin English as an integrative communicative medium in Cameroon has been underscored in several substantive research studies (Mbangwana, 1983, 1987; Menang, 1979; Ngefac, 2008; Ngome, 1986; Sala, 2009; Schneider, 1966; Todd 1969; Schröder 2003. Mbangwana (1983, P.87) underscores the importance of Pidgin English as a potent communicative tool as follows:

Pidgin English is very crucial as a communication bridge, for it links an anglophone to a francophone. It also links an anglophone to another anglophone, an educated Cameroonian to another educated one, a non-educated Cameroonian to another non-educated one, and more importantly an educated Cameroonian to a non-educated one.

A number of linguists (e.g. Baetens, 1982; Ayafor, 2004; Neba et al., 2006; Sala, 2009) has highlighted this integrative function of Pidgin English in works. These researchers perceive Pidgin English as a viable local language for standardization and eventual elevation to the status of an official language, given that it is spoken by Cameroonians across different ethnic divides, geographic settings and educational levels. According to Ngefac (2012,  p.166), “Given the neutrality of the language, selecting it for standardization and adopting it for official transactions will not easily lead to regional and ethnic conflicts, as is likely to be the case if a tribal language were chosen.”  A handful of Cameroonian linguists have even argued in a favor of adopting Pidgin English as an official language of instruction throughout the national territory. Ngefac (2012, p.167) puts the case for this as follows:

Being one of the most widely spoken languages in Cameroon, having served the communicative needs of Cameroonians for more than 500 years, being a language that carries the identity and ecology of Cameroon and being a language that significantly unites Cameroonians as it transcends most social boundaries, one should normally expect a language with such potentials to be one of the languages of education.  

The potential drawback associated with the adoption of Pidgin English as an official language stems from the fact that there is a sizeable number of so-called linguistic purists in Cameroon who have no tolerance for the indigenization process that the English language has undergone in Cameroon. Bobda (2004, p.19), for example, abhors the proliferation of English-based pidgins and creoles, perceiving them as impediments to “the development of British-based standard forms of English” in Cameroon. Such attitudes are also reflected in the fact that the campus of the University of Buea is littered with signboards openly banning the use of the language (Ngefac, 2012).

Regrettably, malcontents such as Bobda (2004) are oblivious of the fact that English is no longer just a language of the Metropolis; it is a global language that has acquired regional specificities. Pidgin English is now widely regarded as an African language that has undergone the process of indigenization (Kwachu, 1986; Mufwene, 2001; Schneider, 2007). Like all other global Englishes, Cameroonian Pidgin English harbors local realities and dynamics—namely worldview and cultural sensibilities. Through the process of reterritorialization, English in the Cameroonian context has acquired new norms and usages peculiar to the local context. This reterritorialized English language is marked by context-specific patterns that give Pidgin English a peculiar local color and flavor. These in turn make Pidgin an ideal language for promoting cross-ethnic communication and thus for fostering a truly pan-ethnic national identity.

Conclusion

It is the closing contention of this paper that Cameroonian Pidgin English is a language in its own right, distinct from other global pidgins such as the pidgin spoken in Nigeria, Ghana,  Papua New Guinea, Jamaica, and Hawaii, among others. It has its own system, with a distinctive structure and should not be treated as a bastardized version of British or American English. It is not a dialect of Cameroonian English or any other local language. Pidgin English is more serviceable to Cameroonians than European-based standard forms of English.  It is clear from this discussion that Cameroonian Pidgin English is a carrier of the national identity, culture and worldview of the Cameroonian people. It is more emblematic of the identity and ecology of Cameroon than British English. Most importantly, Cameroonian Pidgin English is a significant carrier of the historical, ecological, and multicultural narratives of the inhabitants of the post-colony. A rejection of Pidgin English by Cameroonians would be tantamount to self-abnegation because this language speaks volumes about the historical and linguistic evolutions that distinguish Cameroonians from other Africans.

The multiplicity of languages spoken in Cameroon with the attendant difficulty of choosing an indigenous official language sheds light on the phenomenon that I have described in the title of this paper as the “Cameroonian Tower of Babel”. Fonlon (1969, p.9) alludes to this concept when he writes: "It is in Cameroon that the African confusion of tongues is worse confounded, and it has become absolutely impossible to achieve, through an African language, that oneness of thought and feeling and will that is the heart’s core and the soul of a nation."

Fonlon’s stance underscores the need for Cameroonian language policy-makers to take off their blinkers and raise Pidgin English to the status of an official language. No language indigenous to Cameroon plays a more phatic communicative role than Pidgin English. It is the language of customary law in some parts of the country. Most importantly, Pidgin English is the language of social intercourse and neutralizer of linguistic apartheid tendencies. It is the language of business throughout the national territory. Given the fact that the majority of Cameroonian tradesmen and tradeswomen are illiterate, they often communicate in Pidgin English. The language is used as a medium of communication during social events such as sporting events, notably soccer. In the literary domain, Pidgin English has become a medium for the exteriorization of creative genius. Nowadays, there is a proliferation of literary works written entirely in Pidginized English by Cameroonians and foreigners in Cameroon. A few titles would drive home the point. For example, Some Day Been Dey (Todd, 1979); Man no be God (Lemke, 2001); Sunday Lectionary in Pidgin English (Awa, 1984);  (Tori Shweet for Cameroon Pidgin English (Vakunta, 2015a); Poems from Abakwa in Cameroon Pidgin English (Vakunta,  2015b); Majunga Tok: Poems in Pidgin English (Vakunta,  2008), African Time and Pidgin Verses (Vakunta,  2001); and Stories from Abakwa  (Nyamnjoh,  2007). Pidgin English has become the language of the mass media in Cameroon as discussed earlier. It constitutes a powerful political tool in the lyrics of anti-establishment musicians. Noteworthy examples include the following songs composed in Pidgin by Lapiro de Mbanga: Lefsam so (Live and let live), No make erreur (Make no mistake), Na You (You’re to blame), Nak Pasi (Kick and pass) Mimba wi (Remember us) and Dem se (Hearsay).  Importantly, unlike the other Cameroonian languages, Pidgin English has many speakers in all the ten regions that constitute the Republic of Cameroon.

It is necessary to elevate Pidgin English to the status of a national language in order to contribute to the task of nation building. Failure to do so would stall the evolution of the nation as a linguistic kaleidoscope. Like other Cameroonian indigenous languages, Pidgin English serves as conduit of the ecology, identity and cultural artefacts of Cameroonians. This discussion is supportive of the linguistic decolonization process that is overdue in Cameroon. The future of Cameroon as a nation-state resides not in continuance of cultural imperialism, but rather in the willingness of Cameroonians to be at home with linguistic and cultural realities that identify them as a people apart from others in a complex global village.

 Notes

[i]Kouega (2003) defines camfranglais as a composite language consciously developed by secondary school pupils who have in common a number of linguistic codes, namely French, English and a few widespread indigenous languages.

[ii] Since 1961, date on which the Constitution of the Federal Republic of Cameroon was promulgated, Cameroon functions officially as a bilingual system. French and English are the two official languages, a situation that reflects the historical-political as well as the linguistic situation of the country.

Notes

 [i] Speakers of Pidgin English

[ii]We don’t want to steal

We don’t want to go to jail

We just need to work

We beg you to think about us, boss

We are not looking for trouble

We don’t want to go to  Kondengui

We are only looking for a means

To help our family-oh![p.v]

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DEFIANCE

 

 

 

Poem by Dr. Peter Wuteh Vakunta

Day in day out,

Mortals tinker with the chef d’oeuvre

Of the omnipotent Architect of the universe.

Who do we think we are? Demi-gods?

Second after second,

We change boys into girls!

Who do we think we are? Demi-gods?

We also change girls into boys via surgery!

Second after second,

We fiddle with divine creation

We kill babies in the stomachs of mothers!

Who do we think we are? Demi-gods?

Year after year,

We wag our feeble fingers in God’s face.

Men are having sex with men!

And women copulate with women!

Who do we think we are? Demi-gods?

Mortals have desensitized themselves

Against Biblical truth and the commandments.

Oh, how narrow the path to salvation!

Vakunta 2024 (copyrighted)

 

 

Let them Not Turn Back to Folly: A Review of Solomon Warah Tse’s The God of all Possibilities (2023)

 

 Reviewer: Peter Wuteh Vakunta, Ph.D.

 

The God of all Possibilities (2023) is a treatise on the rudiments of effective God-centered fasting. From the onset to the end, the author makes it abundantly clear that spiritual fasting is quite different from fasting for weight watching. As he points out, “When you simply deprive yourself of food, it is a condition called starving or hunger strike…” (p.1) Warah Tse underscores the distinction between spiritual and secular fasting. In the same breadth, the author cautions against hypocritical fasting which Jesus himself condemned. He defines Christian fasting as “… a purely spiritual exercise or discipline in which you abstain from food for a spiritual purpose. Fasting is aimed at bringing believers into a deeper and more intimate relationship with God. Warah Tse notes that fasting is not restricted to abstention from food; it includes fasting on “things other than food.”(p.1) The quintessence of The God of all Possibilities (2023) is to urge bona fide Christians to take fasting seriously. We have to ponder the possibility of fasting on things such as a surfeit of television watching. To assist Christians in this endeavor, Warah Tse provides a catalogue of different fasting modalities, including dry fast (abstention from food and water). As far as the author of The God of all Possibilities (2023) is concerned, prayer is the corner stone of potent fasting. As he puts it, “What matters is the quality time you spend with God in prayer and Bible study.”(p.3)  According to Warah Tse, if you go without food for a whole day and not able to pray once, then you are not fasting but starving. A lifestyle is  that is punctuated by fasting is a God-centered life.  As far as Warah Tse is concerned, “this is the lifestyle of a mature believer…” (p.4)

The God of all Possibilities (2023) is Pastor Warah Tse’s clarion to fellow believers to take fasting seriously because it is integral to Christian doctrine. He reminds Christians that “... in times of crises the men in the Bible fasted.”(p5) Esther, for example, declared a fast in order to resolve a crisis. In a similar vein, the people of Nineveh, fasted when they were up against a formidable crisis. The renowned apostle Paul also fasted to overcome many crises in his life. Christians are to take Jesus’ injunction on the subject matter of fasting quite seriously. Jesus was abundantly clear on this issue. In Matthew 6, Jesus said:  “And when you fast, do not look gloomy like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces that they may be seen by others. But when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face, that your fasting may not be seen by others…” Warah Tse sees fasting as being synonymous with saying no to the dictates of the flesh in order to draw nearer to God. In his own words, “Fasting is a spiritual exercise; our target is not weight loss, but self-loss, pride loss, ego loss, addition loss, sin loss, weakness loss for spiritual gain, reward and vitality. (p.12) To paraphrase this author, fasting is emptying ourselves before God; fasting is drawing us to God’s throne where all answers are found. Warah notes that one of the greatest secrets to gaining access to divine power is genuine fasting. In Matthew 4:1-2 readers are told that during His earthly ministry, Jesus fasted before embarking on difficult missions: “Then Jesus was led by the Spirit into the desert to be tempted by the devil. After fasting for forty days and forty nights, he was hungry.”  Jesus did this in a bid to access power from His Heavenly Father, the God Head. If Jesus who is omnipotent, omniscient and omnipresent, needs fasting, we should need it more. It is on this count that Warah Tse states: “Fasting enables you to turn into the spiritual realm where there is healing and all of your inheritance in Christ Jesus.”(p.14) He is upfront in his admonition to fellow Christians: “Quit playing, start praying.”(p.20)

 As I see it, The God of all Possibilities (2023) is an adulation of divine immutability. In Malachi 3:6, it is written, “For I am the Lord, I do not change.” It is also a book on the omnipotence of God. In Joel, it is written, “The Lord is thunder at the head of His army; His forces are beyond number, and mighty are those who obey His command.” Warah Tse inserted this scripture in his book with the intention of rekindling faith in the hearts of faint-hearted Christians. The spice of his book is the author’s recourse to scriptural aphorisms[1] that are semantically loaded as seen in the following citation: “Fasting is one of the best ways for us to produce amazing results as children of God. When you fast, you subdue your flesh and worries… giving them room to divine guidance and spiritual strength.”(p.41) In other words, fasting  cleanses the mind, subjects one’s flesh to the spirit, renders the heart contrite and humble, scatters the clouds of concupiscence, quenches the fire of lust and kindles the true light of chastity. In The God of all Possibilities (2023), the author makes it quite clear that humankind is in a race for salvation. Warah Tse resorts to the trope of athletics in order to underscore the tedium involved in the race for eternity as well as the necessity for Christians to stay the course. As he puts it, “We are trained like athletes to run our race of glory” (p.58). In the same vein, Warah Tse warns believers to steer clear of existential extremes: “But we must avoid extremes. What matters is the quality of time you spend with God in prayers and Bible study.”(p.58) Pastor Warah Tse also enjoins us to avoid having recourse to secular solutions to our spiritual problems, “The only way to win…the great combat is union with God. Christians will never succeed in overcoming the challenges of the world using political tools…” (p.62).He argues that worldly weapons of combat are ineffective. Warah Tse puts a premium on the potency of prayer as a weapon of warfare:” the believer is at once a husbandman, and a sailor… and a soldier, a wrestler and a traveler.”(p.77) This book provides an antidote to terrestrial worries. Its author enjoins us to take our worries to God. Last but not least, this book is Warah Tse clarion call to Christians the world over to stay alert and evade the malevolent schemes of Satan. In the Bible it is written, “Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.”(1 Peter 5:8)

This book is also Pastor Solomon Warah Tse’s call to repentance. He quips: “You must clean up your lives, clean up your minds, clean up any doubt as you repent and come back to the Lord.”(p.78) Some of  the wise sayings contained in this book are spiritual eye-openers as seen in the following: “There is no saint without a past and no sinner without a future.”(p.80) These existential aphorisms constitute the kernel of Warah’s book; a work that provides so much hope for hopeless Christians. The message contained in The God of all Possibilities (2023) inspires hope for the disenchanted Christian: “Nothing paralyses our lives than the attitude that things can never change. We need to remind ourselves that God can change everything.”(p.82)The writer follows up by adumbrating the following: “You may have gone far from the purpose of God, but there is an opportunity for you to genuinely run back to Him today. Wherever you find yourself today, you can make things right.”(p.88)

Last but not least, Pastor Solomon Warah Tse's book is an invitation extended by a devout man of God to seasoned and budding Christians to pick up their crosses and follow Jesus. As he puts it, “Jesus is everything, start with Him, stay with Him, and end with Him. Jesus is our life, strength, light…” (p.86) Warah Tse dwells on the fact that picking up one’s cross implies total surrender to our Lord and Savior. He notes that though taking up the cross many sound like an arduous take; it is actually connotes freedom from worldly cares. In a nutshell, Pastor Solomon Warah Tse has written a Bible-inspired book that is likely to stand the test of time on account of the potency of its themes and the fluidity of his diction. The author’s language is devoid of fluff and semantic stumbling-blocks. I would recommend The God of all Possibilities (2023) for use in Sunday school classes, Christian book clubs and personal reading at home with family and friends.

(Professor Peter Wuteh Vakunta is founder and coordinator of Daily Manna, a virtual Global Christian Ministry. He lives in North Carolina in the United States of America)

 

[1]  Wise saying

ATTENTION SYNDROME (POETRY)

 

                 By

 

Peter Wuteh Vakunta, Ph.D.

I suffer from attention deficiency,

I am an attention aficionado!

That’s why I crave attention,

Day and night, morn’ and noon.

 

I am attention addictive,

That’s why I wear see-through clothes!

I seek attention, everywhere under the sun

Moreover, everywhere under the moon.

 

I am attention famished,

That’s why I dress in sagging pants!

I can’t have enough of attention,

My drug of choice.

 

I caught the attention virus,

Reason why I wear fake nails,

I long to ape in order to

Attract attention to ME.

 

I contracted the attention pandemic,

That’s why I wear faux eye-lashes!

I need to be noticed by Tom, Dick and Harry.

I desire attention.

 

I am attention addicted,

That’s why I swear by cosmetic surgery!

I wear make-believe breasts,

I’ve got artificial boobs.

 

I am attention-starved,

That’s my visible anatomy

Is replete with tattoos.

Just look at me now!

 

I cannot evade the ‘me too’ syndrome.

That’s why I inject myself with botox!

Look how cute I am.

Fuck the haters!

 

I can’t have enough of attention,

That’s why my jalopy hollers,

All over the place.

Who cares anyway?

 

Hey! Hey! Au secours!

Save me from victimhood.

S.O.S! Save me from me!

Help! Au secours!

© Vakunta 2023

JE GO (JE PARS)

By

Koppo (Emma)

(Transcription and Translation

By Peter Wuteh Vakunta, Ph.D.)

 

Si tu vois ma ngo, dis-lui que je go

Si tu vois ma copine, dis-lui que je pars)

Je go chez les watts nous falla les do

(Je pars au pays des Blancs chercher de l’argent pour nous)

La galère du K-mer toi-même tu know

(Toi même, tu connais la misère qui sévit au Cameroun)

Tu bolo, tu bolo, mais où sont les do?

(Tu travailles sans répit pour des clopinettes)

Mon frère, je te jure je suis fatigué

(Mon frère, je suis vraiment fatigué)

J’ai tout fait, j’ai tout do pour chasser le ngué

(J’ai tout fait, vraiment tout fait pour m’en sortir)

J’ai wash les voitures, il n’y a avait pas moyo

(J’ai lavé des voitures, sans succès)

J’ai toum les chaussures, il n’y avait pas moyo

(J’ai vendu des chaussures, mais sans résultat non plus)

Le poisson, les chenilles: il n’y avait pas moyo

(J’ai vendu du poisson ou de la fripperie, c’était toujours pareil)

Alors j’ai tchat que c’est trop, il faut que je go

(Alors, je me suis dit que “trop c’est trop, il faut que je parte!)

 Si tu vois ma go, dis-lui que je go

(Si tu vois ma compagne, dis-lui que je pars)

Je go chez les watts nous falla les do

(Je pars chez les Blancs nous chercher de l’argent)

Si tu vois ma nga, dis-lui que je pars

(Si tu vois ma petite amie, dis-lui que je pars)

Toi même, tu connais la misère qui sévit au Cameroun

Tu bolo, tu bolo mais où sont les do?

(Tu travailles sans répit pour des miettes)

Le pater, la mater et les mbindi ress

(Mon père, ma mère et mes petites soeurs)

Ont dinai que je go, mais je go vitesse

(M’empêchent de partir, mais je vais partir à toute vitesse)

 Il ne faut pas qu’ils know que j’ai envie de go

(Il ne faut pas qu’ils sachent que j’ai envie de partir)

Je veux seulement qu’ils know quand je suis déjà go

(Je veux qu’ils se ne rendent compte de mon absence

qu’ une fois que je me serai éloigné)

Dès que je go, va leur tchat à tous les gars du kwatt

(Après mon départ, dis à tous les gars du quartier)

 A toutes les go du kwatt que ça gâte ça gâte!

(Et à toutes les filles du quartier, dis-leur que ça gâte ça gâte!

Si tu vois ma go, dis-lui que je go

(Si tu vois ma copine, dis-lui que je pars)

Quand tu such la télé tu vois que chez les watts

(A regarder la télévision on voit que chez les Blancs)

Est-ce qu’on sofa même du ngué?

(Est-ce qu'on ne souffre de la misère?)

Tout le monde est bath

(Tout le monde est aisé)

Dès que je tombe là-bas, je hold un boulot

(Dès que j’y serai, je trouverai un boulot)

N’importe quel boulot qui peut me gee les do

(N’importe quel boulot pourvu que ça rapporte)

Promener le chien, moi je vais bolo

(Promener le chien, moi je le ferai)

Laver les cadavres, moi je vais bolo

(Laver les cadavres, moi je le ferai)

Même épouser les veuves, hein, moi je vais bolo

(Même épouser les veuves, hein j’y suis prêt)

Fait quoi, fais quoi, j’aurai les do.

(J’aurai des sous par tous les moyens)

Foumban, Foumbot je vais go

Je me suis décidé à partir à tout prix)

Si tu vois ma go, dis-lui que je go

(Si tu vois ma nana, dis-lui que je pars)

Dis-lui qu’il n’y a plus le ponda de lui dire adieu.

(Dis-lui que je n’ai plus le temps de lui dire au revoir)

Parce que les gos aiment djoss, c’est le ponda qu’elle loss

(Parce que les femmes aiment discuter et c’est du temps perdu)

Or le ponda c’est le do: il faut que je go

(Or le temps c’est de l’argent: il faut que je parte)

Entre les do si je go et le ndolo de ma go

(Entre l’argent que je peux gagner si je pars et l’amour de ma petite amie)

Je tcha le ndolo mais sans les do y a pas ndolo

(Je préfère l’amour, mais sans argent il n’y a pas d’amour)

Il nous faut les do, il faut que je go

(Il nous faut des pognons, donc, il faut que je parte)

Si tu vois ma go, dis-lui que je go

(Si tu vois ma copine, dis-lui que je pars)

Dis-lui qu’il n’y a pas de pete, je vais jamais la forget

(Dis-lui qu’il n’y a pas de quoi s’inquiéter, je ne l’oublierai jamais)

Si tu vois ma go, dis-lui que je go

(Si tu vois ma copine, dis-lui que je pars)

Je vais toujours mimba qu’elle a un large débat,

(Je me souviendrai toujours qu’elle a un gros derrière)

Si tu vois ma go, dis-lui que je go

(Si tu vois ma petite amie, dis-lui que je pars)

Je te garderai les sacs, la sape, la sape

(Je te rapporterai des sacs, des habits, de beaux vêtements )

Si tu vois ma go, dis-lui que je go

(Si tu vois ma copine, dis-lui que je pars)

On va faire comment, le K-mer a les dents

(Que peut-on faire? Le Cameroun est dur)

Si tu vois ma go, dis-lui que je go

(Si tu vois ma nana, dis-lui que je pars)

Et tous ceux qui me pleurent

(Et quant à tous ceux qui  pleurent à cause de mon départ)

A qu’elle heure?!

(Il est trop tard!)

Si tu vois ma go, dis-lui que je toum

(Si tu vois ma compagne, dis-lui que je m’en vais)

Si tu vois ma go, dis-lui que je poum

(Si tu vois ma copine, dis-lui que je me casse)

Si tu vois ma go, dis-lui que je lance

(Si tu vois ma nana, dis-lui que je file)

Si tu vois ma go, dis-lui que je nyong

(Si tu vois ma petite amie, dis-lui que je me tire)

Si tu vois ma go, dis-lui que je trace

(Si tu vois ma compagne, dis-lui que je fiche le camp)

Si tu vois ma go, dis-lui que c’est fort

(Si tu vois ma copine, dis-lui que c’est dur)

Si tu vois ma go, dis-lui que je pem

(Si tu vois ma copine, dis-lui que je pars)

Si tu vois ma go, dis-lui tout ce que tu veux

(Si tu vois ma compagne, dis-lui tout ce que tu veux.)

© Vakunta 2022

About the author

Dr. Vakunta is Professor of Linguistics and Francophone Studies, United States Department of Defense Language Institute, Monterey-California.

UBUNTU

 

 

Hip! Hip! Hooray!/

Hip! Hip! Hooray!/

I sing UBUNTU/

Kum Kum Massa eh!/

Ooo Kum Kum!/

I sing Ujumaa!/

I sing Harambe!/

I sing Masakhane!/

Ooo Shosholoza!/

Ooo Shosholoza!/

Ooo Shosholoza!/

Ai shosholoza!/

Ai Shosholoza!/

I am no arbiter of divine designs/

Offspring of universal symbiosis/

UBUNTU, my credo/

Hip! Hip! Hooray!

Hymn to inmates/

Of global dungeons/

Hip! Hip! Hooray/

Hip! Hip! Hooray!/

Homage to graduates of Robben Island/

And to inmates of Guantanamo/

And of prisoners without a crime at Kondengui!

Hip! Hip! Hooray!

Hymn to  anonymous inmates at  Kirikiri/

This world’s a donjon/

Where the innocent/

Cohabitate with miscreants/

And moral bankrupts dine with holier- than- thous!/

I wanna say what I gotta say/

No punk’s gonna/

Tell me to shut up!

This underworld’s sick/

Deep in damned  shit/Quagmire/Mire!

Merde et merde alors!/

Gives me the creeps!

This joint’s gone bonkers/

Dirtballs/ hoodlums/scallywags/

Riff-raff/ nitwits/ thingamabobs/

In all nooks and crannies/

In this godforsakent abbot/

Wheelers and dealers are legion/

Taking hostage the innocent in their land of birth!/

Land of the great/ No Man’s Land/

Darn assholes/cocky self-servers/

Liars!/ Thieves! Double talkers!/

To hell with moral bankrupts!/

Au diable! Au diable!

Que le diable les emporte!/

A jilted lover storms into

His wolowoss' apartment/

Pulls a trigger/

Poom! Poom!

She drops in a pool of blood!

Pandemonium!

A cuckolded Sango/

Charges into his nyango's love nest/

Armed to the teeth/

Clobbers his wife and carnal thief to death/

Chaos! Sauve qui peut!/

High schooler flunks her final exam/

On account of binge drinking and drug use/

Coupled with unbridled fornication/

Takes entire faculty hostage/

There’s crossfire/ fusillage!

Fatal shots resonate /

Sauve-qui-peut général![i]

Victims drop dead galore/ Partout!

Gun mania/

Our stock- in- trade.

New credo/

I flex my muscles/

I prime my revolver/

And pull the trigger/

Poom! Poom!/

Foes drops dead/

In a pool of blood/

Does that resolve the problem?/

Humankind is deranged!

Very sick, indeed/

I hear the voice of reason/

I listen to silenced voices in the wilderness/

Crying for gun control/

In benighted no man's land/

Who will do it/ Who will stop the demented ARN blood vampires/

Wizards and witches/ Damned blood-drinking assholes!/

God go punish dem/ Nyamfuka dem!

 

[Professor Peter Wuteh Vakunta (copyright  2022)]

Dance Macabre: Review of Patrice Nganang’s Elobi (Africa World Press, 2006)

 

Reviewer: Peter Wuteh Vakunta, Ph.D.

 

 

 

By titling his poem of lamentation Elobi, Nganang makes a declaration as rich and complex as it is varied in its implications;  "Elobi" is not just a neighborhood in the capital city of Yaoundé; it is  also  the personification of abject poverty in the midst of abundance. Elobi is the specifically Cameroonian way of referring to the wet, swampy areas that surround riverbanks. Elobi is a designation of where the slums are, and where the poor live. Against this backdrop, it is not surprising then that Nganang’s poem touches on virtually every aspect of the decadent polity code-named Cameroon. Yaoundé, however, is only the runway from which the poet's imaginative flight takes off as before long he is briefly reviewing Cameroon as a geographical expression, a nation state, albeit in a shambles which he christens “the republic of clowns”(p.1). Nganang’s immediate concern is to delineate the dichotomy between the silence of speech and the speech of silence (p.1). This antithetical parallelism is not used fortuitously as it prefigures the poet’s bull’s eye, namely the macabre silence that engenders the illusion of freedom in a country where speaking truth to power is anathema.

Thus, Nganang’s Elobi is the poetization of political simulacrum where modern judases…usher in the silence of slow death (p.1).By this token, Elobi is the poet’s attempt to underscore the ramifications of lexical hollowness in his land of birth. As he puts it, “…my words have lost the meanings of their definition.”(p.4) Elobi is an eerie poem wherein scatology thrives and serves as a lethal weapon of combat in the hands of a disenchanted son of the soil who recalls his childhood with melancholy and dystopia: “I was born there… in the neighborhood of pit latrines /I spent my childhood forged by dreams of distance…where the city dumps its garbage/ its corpses…” (p.6). Notice that scatology is ubiquitous in Elobi, the more so because it serves as a leitmotiv for the moral decadence that characterizes the wheeling and dealing orchestrated by ruling class, political nitwits whose stock-in-trade is to serve as stimuli for “the confirmation of eternal damnation.”(p.8) Some references to scatology in Elobi paint a rather bleak picture of the fate of the lost generation of Cameroonians who find themselves besmeared with  their own “shit “… in which the pit latrine is testimony of the crime of the ex-virgin...”(p.17). Eventually, the poet shifts his radar from the neighborhood of Elobi to Obili, another neighborhood in Yaoundé where inhabitants “believe in the shit/scarf down the shit, bath in the shit” and “become beshitted…” (18).  Images like “the rotten twat of a positive prostitute” with “a flaccid buttock/ breasts/wet napkins/ eternal debauchery/ speaks volumes about the daily grime and crime prevalent not only in these precincts but also throughout the Republic of Cameroon. Nganang’s predilection for scatology may shock readers unfamiliar with the mess that is prevalent in Cameroon. However, informed readers would easily connect the dots.

It is noteworthy that recourse to scatology is akin to the portrayal of grime, crime and rape when the poet chants his telltale dirge, “… but the lake slackens/obstinately its version of thorns/ of mud/its garbage in this hour of crime.”(p.17) The portrayal of Yaoundé, Cameroon’s seat of government as a city of grime and crime paints a rather  gloomy picture of Cameroon as a nation-state. Frustrated by the spoliation of his homeland, the poet calls for what French people  would describe as le crime de lèse-majesté [lese-majesty or crime against the crown] as he wonders aloud “but who will stop this straying/ who-who/ but who will fire the final shot/ no one responds” (p.19) It does not take much wit to see that the poet is actually calling for the assassination of the Head of State in Cameroon. He puts the blame on the rank and rife in Cameroon whom he describes as cowardly (p.18).

Elobi is Nganang’s poetic lamentation. The poet berates the moral decadence, corruption, nepotism, ethnocentrism, physical deterioration and the sentimental despondency that feed the Cameroonian wretched of the earth, to borrow words from Franz Fanon (1961). Nganang’s frustration is discernible in his chant of hopelessness: “but we are/ condemned for life/ the chant is born of a swallowed scream/ of speech diluted/ in beads of tears/ dried by masculine modesty/ true speech retreated to the borders/ of withdrawal… on this night of death…”(p.20) Nganang does not stop at calling names; he actually calls for a regime change in Cameroon(p.23) as he bemoans the fate of Cameroon’s beasts of no nation, to borrow words from Bate Besong, another illustrious son of the soil: “ We are/ children of rape/ born to a curse in our mouths/ tardy citizens/ too silenced to have any more to say/ too killed to have any more to live/ we are children of the violence/ dead without having dared to live/ eternal corpses/ unwieldy corpses/ who throw themselves upon it/ we are children of the disenchantment.”(p.24)

To convey his nagging and sometimes disturbingly tragic message, Nganang addresses the Cameroonian society as a whole, from the wolowoss (whores) to political party leaders. This is the stock-in-trade of a poet overwhelmed by the man-made problems besieging his fatherland: from the lack of potable water in parts of Cameroon, through fraud committed by the head of state and his acolytes: “come out from the garbage can there/ from the water/ noting  but water/ filthy inundation… marks this kingdom of refuse…”(p.27)  In  a song he christens 'the credo of galimpeiro' (p.30),the poet lambastes the necromancy that has become a governmental modus operandi in Cameroon: “ this is the terrorist credo/ hunted by/all the police forces but lover/ of the shanty towns/who/celebrates his crowns of skull/ with a cup of blood/with a dream/passionate as a jesus-christ.”(p.30)

In Nganang’s versification, music plays the pivotal role of naming the nameless as seen in these verses: “History repeats itself/Cameroon Tribune/ i am not the son of the ephemeral/who succeeds the ephemeral/ the street without name/the street robbed of its name.”(p.11). To put it succinctly, music enables the poet to utter the unutterable ;to write against the grain: “tcham tacham/ tchamassi of decomposition/ of head choppers/ on the road/and the opponents/belly-heavy/ball of dust/of rags/of flies…/tcham/ tcham/tchamassi the party of bandits…/ this is the hideous one’s credo/whom the city/wants to do without/ but who bursts with laughter/ at his condemnation/ by the juries of the good cause/with a dream/terrible as a living-dead.”(p.30)

In a nutshell, Nganang’s Elobi spans decades of Cameroonian history and geographic space. It adumbrates a myriad of themes critical to the Cameroonian raison d’être. The poet’s diction is simple in the most part, yielding forth a poem that is largely accessible. Nganang's verbal brilliance, linguistic jugglery and clever display of scenes makes this poetic anthology a particularly appealing book to read.

About the reviewer

Professor Peter Wuteh Vakunta teaches at the United States Department of Defense Language Institute in Monterey-California

NEW BOOK!

 

 

 

    The term ‘dissent’ may be used with equal validity in portraying the ideas, writings and the activities of individuals who refuse to jump unto the bandwagon of praise-singers of all stripes. Three fundamental assumptions underlie this book. Firstly, an understanding of the past is relevant to any nation’s search for self-identity. Secondly, in acquiring this understanding, minority viewpoints are as important as the ideas of members of the dominant social classes whose ideas resulted in the formulation of national policies. Thirdly, to criticize one’s country is to do it a service and pay it a compliment. Simply put, dissent means opposition to the status quo (Giffin and Smith, 1971). There is no gainsaying the fact that dissent raises questions of patriotism and loyalty to one’s people and nation. Be it as it may, as J.W. Fulbright (1966) points out, to criticize one’s country is to do it a service. It is a service because it may spur the country to do better than it is doing; it is a compliment because it evidences a belief that the country can do better than it is doing. In a similar vein, Edward Said (1994) notes that whereas we are right to bewail the disappearance of a consensus on what constitutes objectivity, we are not, by the same token, completely adrift in self-indulgent subjectivity. Given the limitations of the human brain, no one can speak up on all the issues that plague a given society at a given time. However, it is our conviction that each one of us has a special patriotic mandate to address the constituted powers of one’s own society, which are accountable to its citizenry, especially when powers vested in elected representatives are exercised in a manifestly disproportionate and immoral fashion, or in a deliberate program of discrimination, marginalization, repression and collective cruelty.

            The raison d’être of speaking truth to power, therefore, is mainly to project a better state of affairs— one that espouses a set of sane moral values, namely peace, love, reconciliation, abatement, patriotism and accountability. The purpose of dissent, therefore, is not to show how right one is but rather to endeavor to induce a change in the moral climate in a society where aggression passes for the norm, the unjust punishment of members of a society is aided and abetted, and the usurpation of fundamental human rights is glossed over with impunity. To back away or simply to toe the line in the face of such injustices is to be unpatriotic to say the least. Said lends his voice to this assertion when he notes that “Nothing is… more reprehensible than those habits of mind in the intellectual that induce avoidance, that characteristic turning away from a difficult and principled position which you know to be the one right one, but which you decide not to take”(p.100)

          The reason some intellectuals sink that low is because they do not want to appear too political. Some are afraid of being controversial. Others are galvanized by thirst for gratification—their hope is to be on a board or prestigious committee, and to remain in the good books of the powers-that-be; someday they hope to get an honorary degree, a big prize, perhaps even a ministerial position. As far as we are concerned, for a genuine intellectual, these habits of minds are corrupting par excellence because they are lethal to the intellectual’s raison d’être. To borrow words from Said again, “If anything can denature, neutralize and finally kill a passionate intellectual life it is the internalization of such habits.”(101) Personally, I have encountered such intellectuals in one of the toughest of all contemporary post-colonial imbroglios—Cameroon, where the Anglophone Question has hobbled, blinkered, muzzled many intellectuals (Anglophone and Francophone alike) who know the truth and are in a position to serve it. In our opinion, despite the abuse and vilification that any outspoken supporter of the Ambazonian Revolution earns for him or herself, the truth deserves to be spoken, represented by an unafraid and compassionate intellectual. Yes, the voice of the intellectual is lonely, but it has resonance only because it associates itself freely with the reality of a movement, the aspirations of a people and the common pursuit of a shared ideal.

In sum, dissent is no Panglossian idealism. It is carefully weighing the alternatives, picking the right one, and then intelligently representing it where it can do the most good and occasion the right change. To attain this objective, the intellectual need not climb a mountain or mount a pulpit in a bid to declaim from the heights. The sensible thing to do is represent human justice in such a way as to influence persuasively. To abandon the defense of truth or to tolerate any tampering with any of its foundations is in effect to betray one’s intellectual calling.  Lending his voice to our stance throughout this book is Saif (1994) who contends: “One of the shabbiest of all intellectual gambits is to pontificate about abuses in someone else’s society and to excuse exactly the same practices in one’s own.”(92) In a democracy, dissent is an act of faith. Like medication, the test of its efficacy lies not in its taste but in its effects. Ultimately, what matters is not how it makes people feel at the moment, but how it inspires them to act together for the betterment of the status quo. The genuine intellectual ought to be too confident to conform; too strong to be silent in the face of injustice and too decent to be cowed into submission.  Dissent, in short, is more than a right. It is an act of patriotism, a higher form of patriotism than the familiar rituals of national adulation. Slowly but surely, our leaders are succumbing to the arrogance of power.  In so doing, our nations have failed to live up to their capacities and promises.  The measure of these failures is the measure of the patriot’s duty of dissent. The essays that constitute the kernel of this book lend credence to these assertions.

 

BOOK COMMENDATION

In Dissent: The Highest Stage of Patriotism" Dr. Peter Vakunta stirs the hornet's nest and calls a spade a spade, regardless of whose horse is gored. Students and professors of political science would find this book a welcome addition to their prized reads."(Dr. Peter Ajongwa Ngwafu, Professor of Public Administration and Political Science, Albany State University, Leesburg, Georgia, USA)

 

NEW BOOK!

 

 

HONOR AMONG THIEVES

By Peter W. Vakunta

In this book of poems, the poet speaks in a confident tone of apocalyptic utterances: advising, warning, denouncing, protesting, and lamenting. This long poem has the twin virtues of relevance and clarity of diction. The poet willfully eschews the irksome ineloquence and syntactic sophistry characteristic of traditional poetry. He adopts the tone of African Guardians of the Word, the griots. Passion, energy, and incisive irony are the hallmarks of this didactic work.

BOOK PREVIEW

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REVIEW

"Honor Among Thieves is one more expression of Africa's disaster and dilemma. The long poem chronicles the "dance macabre in the putrefaction" by "metamorphosed nitwits" feeding "feces to the poor." Vakunta's words flow feverishly in a harsh, harrowing rhythm, like blood gushing out of the bodies of innocent victims of Africa's reprehensible dictators. Cameroon is the particular site of the tragedy, but it could be Kenya, or Somalia, or Sudan..."(Dr. Femi Ojo-Ade, Professor Emeritus of French & History, St. Mary's College of Maryland, USA)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Dr. Peter Wuteh Vakunta is a native of Bamunka-Ndop in the Northwest Region of the Republic of Cameroon. His education is global. He studied in Cameroon, Nigeria, South Africa, France and the United States of America. His research interests are cross-disciplinary and straddle the tufts of applied linguistics and second language acquisition.  Professor Vakunta  is a prolific writer with over forty works on literary theory and fiction under his belt. He is an Associate Professor at the Department of Defense Language  Institute, Monterey-California, United States of America.

THE CLOTHES OF OUR NAKEDNESS: A REVIEW OF NTARINKON BY PROF VAKUNTA

 

REVIEWER: DR. EMMANUEL FRU DOH

By titling his volume Ntarinkon, Peter W. Vakunta makes a declaration as rich and complex as it is varied in implications.  Ntarinkon is not only a neighborhood but can be said to be the founding base of multi-party politics in post-colonial Cameroon. On May 26, 1990, despite opposition by the incumbent government headed by Mr. Paul Biya, the social Democratic Front (SDF) was launched in Ntarinkon, a gently boisterous business-driven quarter in the heart of Bamenda, the capital city of the North West Province. The membership's defiance of the dictatorial regime along with its forces of coercion, coupled with the willingness, at least at the time, of the party's leadership to change Cameroon in spite of all the risks involved, made the SDF the darling political party of the suffering masses. Without the trailblazing launching of the SDF, it is true, many of the political parties in Cameroon today would have been nowhere. After the SDF and its members, along with neutral sympathizers, had fought back through blood, severed limbs, and death even, to convince the recalcitrant regime that it was the hour for multi-party politics, only then, in its wake, did other parties begin emerging reticently; hence, the loaded implications surrounding the title Ntarinkon.

Against such a backdrop, it is not surprising then that Vakunta's title and long poem touch on virtually every aspect of that socio-politically infested and shaky structure called Cameroon. Cameroon, however, is the runway from which the poet's imaginative flight takes off as before long he is briefly reviewing Africa as a whole, and the world at large. Vakunta's immediate concern is to figure out what is wrong with Cameroon before transcending the national boundary. Thus, he employs those lines from Igbo weltanschauung, popularized by Achebe, by wondering: "Where did the rains/ start to beat us?" (1). Guided by Igbo philosophy and wisdom, Achebe had made known the fact that if one fails to identify one's problem and its origins, one cannot effectively apply the solution even if it is made obvious. Hence, Vakunta laments the fact that Anglophone-Cameroonians ("the lost generation of Ambasonia" 1) and even the nation as a whole, are "... a people [who] grope around/ In pitch darkness" (1). Besides Cameroon's problem as a nation, Vakunta, emphatically, bemoans the Anglophones' bane in their native Cameroon where they have been treated as though they were aliens. The poet then assembles a litany of woes that haunts the Cameroonian nation as a whole, an example being the irresponsible military that loves to kill its own citizens as revealed in "Some have christened/ the children of this land/food for military canon" (1). He wonders if such irresponsibility is not a pointer to the despair that will typify the future life of the Cameroonian youth before pointing out that Cameroon's political wilderness is characterized by "demagoguery" and "tribalism" (2) which have given birth to instability. As a result, Vakunta points out with discontent, that there comes a time when the oppressed must stand up and fight back; after all, "Die man no di fear bury grong" (a loser has nothing to worry about in a fight as there is nothing else to lose. 3).

As if to confirm the source of his title while re-emphasizing to the oppressed lot of Cameroon in particular his message of the need for an uprising, the poet goes back in time and explores the forced birth of multi-party politics in Cameroon. Almost like a Caesarean section, multiparty politics was ripped from the oppressed, frustrated, and politically pregnant atmosphere of the nation. The result was the birth of the SDF, which became the albatross about the neck "of Mbiya Mbivodo/ Absentee tenant at Etoudi" (3). Vakunta laments those who were killed during this "storm in the tea-cup/" (3). The government made so much ado about the launching of a political party by having civilians killed and others arrested and detained in Cameroon's torture laboratory, the Brigade Mixte Mobile (BMM), where they claim "Dieu est Mort" (God is dead, 4). This clash with the military was nationwide, leading to more civilian deaths as well as death wishes against the powers that be. The dream was to smoke out of his palace at Etoudi, a leader and his "Ali Baba Gang" (6) who like termites have destroyed a once towering socio-economic bastion of a nation. In the face of mounting social unrest, the nation's leader resorted to the use of charms:
megang which he carried on his person
day in day out/night and day/
as backup for his European-tailored/
bullet-proof jacket/. (10)

Notwithstanding efforts to protect the body, the ghosts of the victims of the quest for freedom will always be a part of this leader's tortured psyche; it is he who unleashed his zombies in uniform--mbere khaki--to terrorize and kill citizens fighting against "municipal vampires" (11). The populace was not deterred as professional groups after groups of the disillusioned, used, and abused proletariat--students, civil servants, black marketers, taxi drivers, and bendskin (motorcycle-taxi riders)--took turns against those in power. This hour is one of nonsense as the social order has collapsed; Vakunta shows this in the paradoxical clash of events:
There's decadence/
There's depravity/
There's je m'enfoutisme
We live in a world of impunity.../
Common sense has become nonsense/
Good food has become poison/ (12-13)
Beyond Cameroon, the poet's wide experience delves into the international realm again as he explains the conflicts and consequences of his self-exile during which he has encountered Africans blindly aping the ways of the West.

In a section that brings to mind Okot p'Bitek's Song of Lawino and Song of Ocol, the poet contrasts life at "home" as opposed to the diaspora, with nude clubs where women dance with men watching, the smell of sex in the air, the racial awareness, the overall debauchery. Of a sudden, Bate Besong, the late Cameroonian teacher, poet, playwright, and virulent social critic is called upon and praised. One would think Vakunta is summoning the spirit of this literary icon and symbol of the cleansing traditional spirit, the Obasinjom, to purge the world of his people, but it is the poet's way of lamenting the loss of cultural leaders while exploring a nation's tortuous political journey from independence through neo-colonialism to globalization and the status quo. In this light, the poet proceeds to heap praises on other Cameroonian heroes, from the legendary Reuben Um Nyobe, a symbol of Cameroon's struggle for genuine independence, and hence the "Bête noire of Gaullist Africa" (22) to the symbol of proletarian resilience of a nation hungering for true freedom, Albert Womah Mukong, "Ennemi numéro un of inept regimes" (23).From time to time, Vakunta displays the plight of the Anglophone Cameroonian in his poem. However, he is primarily a Cameroonian even as he laments his nation's lot, before remembering he is an Anglophone who has been denied his rightful place in society. Accordingly, after lamenting as a Cameroonian, Vakunta decries the plight of the Anglophone Cameroonian in a manner that seems to question if our national heroes did not die for nothing as today Cameroonians, as a people, permit alien values--Anglophonism and Francophonism--to tear them apart.

Vakunta then emphasizes every genuine Cameroonian's wish: that every Cameroonian ought to feel at home in Cameroon "Because here nous sommes tous chez nous" (26). The poet addresses the Cameroonian society as a whole, from the wolowoss (whore) to the bard. This is a poet overwhelmed by the man-made problems besieging his people: from the lack of portable water in parts of Cameroon, through poor health facilities even as the Head of State owns and operates a well-equipped private hospital in Baden-Baden: "Hospitals in Baden-Baden/But not one in Mvomeka'a" (34). Vakunta is simply wondering at the kind of logic guiding most African leaders. Why own a hospital in Europe when even one's own village has none? The poet thinks of the penury ravaging his people only to remember the people's stolen wealth "stashed in Swiss banks/ And in Banque de France/" (35) away from their reach as there is "not a cent in Cameroon Bank" (35). As if this is not tragic enough, the citizens are not at peace with each other:
Bassa against Beti.../
Bangwa against Bali/
Bamileke against Bafaw/
Drought of reciprocal love/
Fulani against Fang/
Banso against Banja (35)
The poet registers his disillusionment with human ways when he considers half-heartedly "to turn and live with the birds/" (42) with their lifestyle that, unlike human beings, is without unnecessary complications. Vakunta's poetic focus shifts from Cameroon to South Africa and the world as a whole. After lamenting over more of Africa's tragedies like Dafur, the genocide in Rwanda, blood diamonds in Liberia and Sierra Leone,/ the Cameroon-Nigeria conflict, Vakunta calls for African unity. He argues that contrary to Howard W. French's convictions as per the title of his book, Africa is not a continent for the taking. In the same vein, the poet dismisses Afro-pessimists as of little consequence comparing them to mosquitoes, their prejudices notwithstanding.

Once more, Vakunta zeroes in on Cameroon where again he laments the goings on in the residence and lives of the first couple; he then catapults his concerns to the larger world panorama as he ridicules current creeds and mantras that have hijacked recent and current world thought and trends: "Green Rape," "Earth Day," "Clean Air Act," (72) and the likes. After shuttling from Cameroon to Africa as a whole, the rest of the world, and back, Vakunta is certain human beings are a failure as per their deeds, which amount to mere illusions and at best paradoxical distractions:
Sometimes it feels like/
The life of humans is but a paradox/
We have very tall buildings/
But very short tempers/
We have extremely broad freeways/
But terribly narrow viewpoints/
We spend more but earn less/
Buy more but enjoy less/
More degrees we've amassed/
But not a modicum of common sense/
More savvy but less judgment/
More experts we have/
But a myriad of problems unresolved/ (74)

This situation the poet blames, implicitly, on the forced marriages wrought between African communities as colonialists were arbitrarily forming nation-states. Vakunta, simply put, is overwhelmed by the chaos engendered by alien-based constitutions and institutions. The total negative portrait notwithstanding, like Martin Luther King Jr. Vakunta dares to dream of a better tomorrow which will bring about a "rejuvenated Azania" (41). Accordingly, having identified where the rain began beating Cameroon, Africa as a whole, he points out where to begin drying our national and continental bodies as he urges a return to traditional government structures:
Time for examination of conscience/
High time for the intervention of
Qwifon/
Of Ngiri/
Of Ngumba/
Of rain makers/ (37)
To convey his nagging and sometimes disturbingly tragic message, Vakunta's style amounts to a challenging yet refreshing stroke. It displays his restlessness over the issues tormenting Africa, humankind as a whole, but mostly Cameroon. Accordingly, like the restless spirit that he has become in an effort to deal with the vicious forces destroying his native soil, Vakunta, like one of Achebe's proverbial personae trying to get a better glimpse of a performing mask, cannot afford to stand in one place stylistically. He keeps shifting from setting to setting as now his concern is Cameroon only to move to South Africa and beyond before returning to Cameroon as he displays his trepidation for the human predicament at large--social inequality and misery. In like manner, at one time Vakunta is shouting and praising; at another lamenting quietly while ridiculing and insulting; yet at another, almost desperately urging the oppressed to rise against the forces oppressing them. This shift from Cameroon beyond and back, the obvious lack of geographical and temporal sequence which hints at structural incoherence since one is tempted to think he should have dealt with one scene completely before engaging the other, is instead proof of the overpowering spasmodic spontaneity of his poetic recollections. That he refuses to rework the structure otherwise, leaves one with the feeling that the poet is out to expose his tortured awareness of his native country's predicament. Thus, like a typically troubled mind, his anxious id is inconstant as he continually revisits in recurrent rhythms the different sources of his melancholy only to confirm their slow but steady deterioration.

The main fountain of Vakunta's stylistic inspiration is everyday life in Cameroon, the oral traditions of Africa, and world events. Like a raging mask in search of the spirit of evil in society, Vakunta is all over the place thematically and stylistically. Like the bard, for example, he present chants reminiscent of characters that people the streets of Bamenda--kum-kum Massa (58). There is "H-u-r-u-j-e!" (57) also, a pep expression for people carrying out challenging manual tasks as they channel their individual energies into a mighty and wholesome force with which to accomplish their chore:
Leader: H-u-r-u-j-e!
All: Hey!
Leader: H-u-r-u-j-e!
All: Hey!
Leader: H-u-r-u-j-e!
All: Hey!
Everybody: One time! Ya-a-a-a-a!
And so the job is slowly but steadily accomplished in due course.
Another remarkable stylistic quality of Ntarinkon is how in theme and style it spans a generation. This is displayed by the all too frequent encounter of ideas, titles, and lines from core text in African literature and world struggles as a whole, echoed by the poet as a way of drawing attention to already established problems on the continent and beyond, hence the historical and geographically expansiveness of the poem. Vakunta's very first lines echo an idea from Achebe: "Where did the rains/Start to beat us?" (1); "Mimboland" (5) is Francis B. Nyamnjoh's fictional name for Cameroon in his novel A Nose for Money; "Prison graduate" (28) is from Herbert Boh and Ntemfac Ofege; "I am black and proud" (13) is a line from the legendary American king of Soul James Brown; "Beasts of No Nation" (19) is the title of Bate Besong's play; "Swamp dweller..." (38) echoes Wole Soyinks'a play "The Swamp Dwellers"; "To be or to be not" (28), is a distortion of the famous expression from Shakespeare's Hamlet "To be or not to be"; whereas, "I Have a dream" (41) brings to mind the words of the late American human rights activist, Martin Luther King Jr. and so on. That Vakunta's lines cover decades amounting to a generation, and space spanning the globe, shows the frequently recurrent and widely relevant nature of his themes while confirming the historical quality of the poem.

Notwithstanding, Vakunta's diction is mostly simple, yielding forth a poem that is largely accessible. In spite of his frequent use of slang and in-group lingo which sometimes obscure his meaning to a stranger to Cameroon's daily life, this is, in fact, the source of the uniqueness, strength, and refreshing quality of Vakunta's verbal brilliance and linguistic jugglery. Yet a total understanding of Ntarinkon calls for that reader who has been in touch with the changing socio-political atmosphere in Cameroon as Vakunta's frequently specialized diction, display of scenes, and the occasional tossing about of historically significant expressions indicate. The volume can be said to amount to a test on one's "Cameroonianess" as to read and immediately understand his message is to declare at once a synchronous existence with the national essence. Vakunta is the literary Lapiro; he has done in the academic realm what Pierre Roger Lambo Sanjo alias Lapiro de Mbanga has done in the Cameroonian musical arena--successfully communicating in one breadth with the classy as well as the gauche. This then, is a poet who can be as refined as he can be uncouth, as sophisticated as he can be rustic, thereby indicating a personality who is abreast of the daily rhythms of his people's experiences.

Yes, Ntarinkon, true to its oral influences, segues from time to time into song, and so along with its attendant concern for the human ethos and well-being, is bound to touch someone somewhere sometime. Hence, in spite of the painful and equally frustrating thematic concerns of the poem, it is refreshing and pleasurable to read thanks to an effective combination of rich metaphors that conjure up fertile scenes loaded with different shades of feelings that bring about an occasional smile of recognition, acknowledging grunts, and grimaces triggered by frequent, frustrating real life encounters in the poem. Vakunta's exploitation of daringly fresh imagery evokes a certain satisfaction in his local reader especially, who at once identifies with the poetic flights of this true Cameroonian patriot; this truly concerned human being. This is why there is sometimes that shocking emotional exchange and recognition between Vakunta's scenes and the reader's personal life that leads the reader to agree with the poet ever so often, culminating at times in loud laughter, the mortifying nature of the humor notwithstanding.

Ntarinkon, with sure influences from Okot p'Bitek and another Cameroonian forerunner, Francis Wache in his Lament of a Mother, is fascinating from the uniqueness of its language to the universality of its concerns. It is a long poem one enjoys reading as one (the Cameroonian in particular) is suddenly steeped in one's past as though it were a renaissance of historical occurrences in a powerful poetic whole. Yes, Vakunta's attention to diction, semantic precision and the evocative play between events, the intellect, and the emotion, create an exceptionally stimulating version of the poetic art form--Ntarinkon.
*Dr. Emmanuel Fru Doh is of the Department of English at Century College, Minnesota, USA.

Professor Vakunta Talks at Princeton University

Professor Vakunta's paper delves into the pedagogics of teaching fiction written in hybrid languages. The bull's eye of his presentation will be Professor Nganang's seminal novel titled Temps de chien (Dog Days) published in 2001.

BOOK REVIEW

 

 

 

Paul Biya’s Machievellian Reign over Cameroon: A Review of Michel Roger Emvana’s Les Secrets du Pouvoirs. Paris: Karthala. 2005.  290pp.Paper Back $58.45. 2-84586-684-4

Reviewer: Peter Wuteh Vakunta, Ph.D.

Emvana’s book titled Les secrets du pouvoirs is a walk through the crevices in the mind of a compulsive despot—Mr. Paul Biya, the tyrant that has misgoverned Cameroon for over four decades.  Emvana creates an interesting parallel between Paul Biya and Niccolo Machiaveli when he compares the machinations of Cameroon’s President with the shenanigans of Machiaveli’s protagonist  in The Prince (1977): “Le comedien du pouvoir est bel et bien assis sur son piedestal depuis plus de deux decennies, avec cette   dose de machiavelisme qui le rend insaisissable”(10). Those who have read Machiaveli’s The Prince would be familiar with the diabolical precepts that this Italian writer propounded as a modus operandi for monopolizing political power in perpetuity. Paul Biya is a prototype of Machiaveli’s political strategem: “Paul Biya est la doublure du prince de Machiavel, imprévisible, attache a son trone et attentive”(34).   Envana underscores the fact that Paul  Biya is a bicephal political animal who  appears to be what he is not: “Biya gouverne avec une cagoule. Il n’est pas celui qu’il parait être, d’où la difficulté à le caractériser “(11) The bulk of Cameroonians find it hard to paint a credible portrait of the man that has governed them for four decades. This is because Biya is a political comedian. Emvana portrays the Cameroonian President as “celui que les Camerounais connaissent mal, et les ministres, à moitié.”(27) In the author’s own words, “Biya sait autant jouer le rôle d’un felin dévorant que celui plus ruse du renard”(211). To put this differently, Paul Biya excels in the cat and mouse game. Emvana’s neologism “le Biyaisme” is a label that describes Biya’s political comedy of abstraction, governmental ineptitude and subjectivity. Biyaism, as the highest stage of Machiavelism, is anchored on the banishment of moral scruples from his thought patterns.As Emvana would have it, “Certain sociologues attribuent dès lors à Paul Biya cette dose de machiévelisme fondée sur une absence de scrupule au service d’un intêret singulier”(37).

Biyaism is an anti-people code that breeds apathy, dereliction of duty, and resentment of the governed:  As Emvana puts it, “Le biyaisme est une théorie immanente, complexe, ondoyante et iconoclaste. Une théorie dont l’étude en surface conduit inéluctablement à l’apathie, à l’absentéisme, à la fainéanantise…”(27).  Emvana notes that Biya is a “Roi Fainéant” who listens to no one’s voice but his own. Biyaism as a governemental paradigm draws its strength from ontological sadism. According to Emvana, Paul Biya is a sadist who “…aime voir les autres paniquer.”(243). As Emvana sees it,  it is probably  this sadistic penchant for deriving pleasure from the sufferings of others that has driven Biya to have recourse to occultism: “Chez Paul Biya, la relation avec le pouvoir est mythique…”(29).

Les secrets du pouvoirs is an interesting in several respects but the aspect that captivates the reader’s attention the most is the ambivalent nature of the Cameroonian Head of State.  Emvana notes: “Mais tout le monde le sait, Paul Biya et ses ministres ne parlent pas toujours le même langage[i]”(81).  It is not just consensus that is lacking between the President and his henchmen. They do not even meet periodically to discuss state affairs. Little wonder nothing works in Cameroon. Emvana does not mince words in his diatribe against Paul Biya who he describes as the task-master of a lame duck regime. This writer calls a spade a spade when he labels the Cameroonian Head of State an opportunist: “Biya est un opportuniste. Mais son opportunisme politique est imbibé et voilé”(77).[ii] One other intriguing aspect of Biya’s persona is his ability make believe;to dine with God and Mammon at the same time. According to Emvana, Biya believes that his governmental inspiration comes from God Almighty: “C’est Dieu  qui lui a donné le pouvoir…”(77).[iii] At the same time, Biya is an afficionado of occultism. He is a member of the Rosicrucian Order. Emvana points out that Biya perceives the Rosicrucian Order as a source of  protection on which he relies to hang onto power eternally: Paul Biya conçoit la Rose-Croix, peut-être, comme une protection dont se sert tout homme politique pour pérénniser son règne…”(160).[iv] This double allegiance is so mind-boggling that Emvana cannot help but ask the rhetorical question: “Comment Biya peut-il appartenir à la Rose-Croix et en même temps se vouer au culte du Christ?”(157)[v]  According to Emvana,  Biya is portrayed in the Western media as one of the most generous financiers of the Rosicrucian Order: “…les journaux français présentent Paul Biya comme l’un des grands financiers des temples rosicruciens…;”(157).[vi] Paradoxically, Emvana observes that “Des messes chrétiennes ont toujours lieu à Etoudi avant et depuis l’occupation des résidences présidentielles par Paul Biya”(157).[vii] According to Emvana, this is typical of Paul Biya, a man who dresses up in borrowed robes most of the time:” C’est le propre de Biya. C’est un comédien politique qui va sur une scène avec une attitude d’emprunt, et qui une fois dans les vestiaires, se débarasse de son rôle”(158).[viii] Thus, the Cameroonian Head of State is  nothing else but a political chameleon that changes colors incessantly.

At the same time, Les secrets du pouvoirs is a scathing lampoon on the crippling presidential incompetence that has rendered the  Republic of Cameroon dysfunctional.  According to Amvana, Paul Biya nurses a morbid fear of the press in genera because he has no track-record to discuss with the media. He likens Biya to a hermit who lives abroad far longer than he lives at the presidential palace at Etoudi or in his home village of Mvomeka, As Emvana points out, “Il fuit les interviews… Il se méfie de la presse dans sa globalité”(202).[ix]  He adds that Paul Biya perceives himself as an indomitable lion. The Cameroonian Head of State goes by the sobriquet of ‘l’homme-lion’ or Lion-Man.  Emvana notes that “Biya a emprunté la métaphore de ‘l’homme-lion’ lors de la présidentielle de 1997”(211).[x]  The significance of this nickname is that Biya subscribes to the doctrine of the law of the jungle. His political opponents acknowledge this fact. Frédéreic Kodock, for example, has described the President as “un serpent” or snake in an interview he granted the press. This metaphor compares Paul Biya’s sly nature to that of a green snake in green grass.

The succession question is a hotly debated theme in Les secrets du pouvoirs. Who will succeed Paul Biya seems to be a leitmotif that preoccupies Emvana considerably in the course of his narrative. Without offering a convincing response, the writer has the hunch that “… le successeur sortira du cercle des biyaistes. Le choix du successeur de  Biya ne sera possible que dans cet entourage très réduit…”(236).[xi]However, he cautions political observers against ruling out the possibility of an outsider emerging as Paul Biya’s successor: “Toutesfois, il ne faut pas exclure totalement l’émergence d’un outsider non programmé dans les prognostics politiques”(236).[xii] In the meantime, Paul Biya is contented with simply keeping a close watch on those junkies who are vying for succession in the post-Biya era.  However, the 1996 amended constitution of the Republic of Cameroon makes it abundantly clear who becomes president in the event of power vacancy in Cameroon. Article 6, section 4 of the constitution states: “En cas de vacance du président de la Republique pour cause de décès, de démission ou d’empêchement définitive constaté par le conseil constitutionnel, le scrutin pour l’élection du nouveau président de la République doit impérativement avoir lieu 20 jours au moins et 40 jours au plus après l’ouverture de la vacance”(Quoted in Les secrets du pouvoir, p.230). The 1996 constitution designates the President of the Senate as the legal successor of Mr. Biya. However, the President of the senate cannot ran for the President: “Il ne peut être candidat à l’élection organisée pour la présidence de la République”( Emvana, 231). The question that begs to the asking at this juncture is why there is so much brouhaha about presidential succession in Cameroon if the constitution leaves no room for ambiguity in the succession question).  Emvana observes that this agitation stems from the fact that Paul Biya, in his quest for a strategist like himself may not respect the supreme law of the land in his ultimate choice of a successor. As Emvana would have it, “Sur les textes, Biya, en bon républicain et en parfait légaliste,, a déjà son successeur et les canons existent depuis 1996. Mais le papier ne remplace pas un président. Pour sa succession au plan humain, pratique et pragmatique,seul Biya sait. Secret d’Etat”(231).

In a nutshell, thanks to the publication of Les secrets du pouvoir, Michel Roger Emvana joins the ranks of writers like Gervais Mendo Ze and Jacques Fame Ndongo who remain firm in their belief that Paul Biya is God’s gift to Cameroonians. The book is replete with ambiguity and hyperbolic statements about the invincibility of President Biya. In his preface Emvana states upfront that his intent in crafting this book was neither to produce a panegyric laudation nor a vitriolic diatribe of Biya’s regime: “… cet opuscule n’a pas de but apologétique ou panégyrique.Il ne sert pas d’alibi à un laudateur supplémentaire, de même qu’il ne dresse pas de réquisition”(12).[xiii] Whether or not Emvana has remained true to this objective remains a moot point for readers. Les secrets du pouvoir is book that causes both grief and glee. It is should be read with a level head by politician and students of politics.This does not debar the rank and file from reading it for political awareness.

 

ABOUT THE REVIEWER

Professor Peter Wuteh Vakunta teaches at the U.S. Department of Defense Language Institute in Monterey-California. He is author of scores of books on linguistics, politics, second language acquisition and culture.

Notes

[i]  But everyone knows that Paul Biya and his ministers do not speak with one voice.

[ii]  Biya is an opportunist but his political opportunism is soused and veiled.

[iii]  His power comes from God.

[iv]  Paul Biya probably perceives the Rosicrucian Order as a source of protection to which every politician has recourse in a bid to stay in power perpetually.

[v]  How can Biya worship the gods of AMOK and Christ?

[vi]  French media portrays Paul Biya as one of the most generous donors of the Rosicrucian Order.

[vii] Christian masses have always been celebrated at Etoudi before and after Paul Biya became Head of State.

[viii] This is typical of Biya. He is a political comedian who enters the scene wearing a fake costume and soon abandons his role once on stage.

[ix]  He evades press interviews… He is wary of the press in general.

[x]  Biya adopted this nickname during the presidential elections of 1997.

[xi] The successor shall emerge from the close circle of Biyaists.  The presidential choice will be made from this small group.

[xii]  However, one should not rule out the likelihood of an outsider emerging as a political successor to Paul Biya.

[xiii]  The goal of this book is not to serve as apologia or panegyric. It is not an alibi for extra praise, nor is it intended to be an indictment.

BOOK REVIEW: IN THE UNITED STATES OF AFRICA BY ABDOURAHMAN WABERI

 

BY PROFESSOR PETER WUTEH VAKUNTA, Ph.D.

In the United States of Africa (2009) is the first translation of Waberi's novel titled Aux Etats Unis d'Afrique (2006) by David and Nicole Ball, both seasoned literary translators. His Pays sans ombre: Nouvelles (1994) was translated as Land without Shadows (2005) by Jeanne Garane. Abdourahman is author of several other fictional works written single-handedly and as co-author. His masterpiece is undoubtedly In the United States of Africa, a novel in which the Djiboutian writer resident in France avails himself of the literary technique of reverse psychology to turn the tables on the prism through which we seem to perceive the world. He does so with apparent ease. Abdourahman proves to be a master of the written word. He wields humor, irony, sarcasm, and satire adeptly in his attempt to debunk the myth and often unquestionable  stereotypes that have become the lot of Africa--a continent described severally as: "a continent for the taking", "the lost continent", "and the Dark Continent", "a continent at risk", and more. The novel recounts the trajectory of Malaïka, a French child adopted by an African, Doctor Papa, on a humanitarian mission to Asmara. Now a young artist, Malaïka returns to the land of her birth to trace the whereabouts of her biological mother, and perhaps find her lost identity. Her search, laden with unknowns, is portrayed as tortuous and revealing. She is described as an `angel' on account of her decent upbringing in France: "She is graceful as an angel, and that's why she is called Malaïka."(9)

In the United States of Africa is a futuristic novel in which the writer turns the fortunes of the world upside down, and invites his readers to re-imagine a world where economic refugees and victims of social oppression escape from the squalor of America and the slums of Europe in desperation to seek freedom and prosperity in the United States of Africa. As he puts it: "This is what attracts the hundreds of thousands of wretched Euramericans subjected to a host of calamities and a deprivation of hope." (5) It goes without the saying that acerbic irony is a powerful deconstructionist tool in the hands of Waberi as the following statement shows: "This individual, poor as Job on his dung heap, has never seen a trace of soap, cannot imagine the flavor of yogurt, has no conception of the sweetness of a fruit salad. He is a thousand miles from our most basic Sahelian conveniences." (4) Or this other telling one: "After an insipid soap opera, a professor from the Kenyatta School of European and American Studies, an eminent specialist in Africanization--the latest fad in our universities, now setting the tone for the whole world--claims that the United States of Africa can no longer accommodate all the world's poor."(6)

Waberi's n's ambivalent use of language is evident throughout the narrative. In a bid to translate anger and despondency into the written word, he has no compunction about resorting to vulgarity for the purpose of effective communication: "In short, they are introducing the Third World right up the anus of the United States of Africa."(8) This novel is a poignant depiction of the plight of the proletariat of the First World whose very survival depends on government bailouts, referred to as `food stamps' in the United States of America. "It is a tale that can make a family forget the absent father, always wandering off or between odd jobs...who holds the house together by means of federal welfare checks and various sacrifices" (9-10) This text is a satiric derision of the fallacy of the American dream: "Two men in quest of the African dream, seeking manioc and fresh water. Sheriff Ouedraogo promises to spare the life of the one who kills the other at sunset."(19). Tongue in cheek, the novelist laments the fate of African immigrants subjected to all forms of ignominies in the Western world: "Not a day goes by without new cases of disappearances, illegal immigrants arrested and neutralized for good, illegal workers sent to meet their maker in less time than it takes to light a cigarette."(20)

In the United States of Africa is captivating in several respects but the quality that captures the reader's attention the most is the novelist recourse to the theme of exile as a thread that holds his narrative together: "The tiny elite was the first to clear out, and every youngster's dream is to leave and go into exile." (14).The problematic strife with double exile (physical and psychological) seems to be a leitmotif in Waberi''s text. In this novel, psychological exile is seen to be as deleterious as physical displacement: "He's gone on a journey inside himself, you think... He's really gone. Where? He doesn't know..." (23) Waberi employs sagacious words to adumbrate this haunting theme: "One's birthplace is only an accident; you choose your true homeland with your body and heart. You love it all your life or you leave it alone."(10)

 

It is hard to ignore the novelist's attempt to fictionalize his own existential travails in the world of exile. In writing his tale of exile, Waberi turns the tables topsy-turvy as this statement clearly indicates: "Today even more than yesterday, our African lands attract all kinds of people crushed by poverty: trollops with their feet powdered by the dust of exodus; opponents of their regimes with a ruined conscience; many kids with pulmonary diseases; bony, shriveled old people. "(15) Waberi's's text is a double-edged trenchant sword; it chides the predator and the prey with the same breath. It decries the tribulations engendered by xenophobic tendencies: "They begin by setting up security perimeters in big cities, investigate at length before tackling lawless zones, shady hotels, guerilla camps, bordellos, and shebeens for illegal immigrants."(46)

In the United States of Africa is a tale of the underdevelopment of Africa by Western powers. It is a laudation of the material and intellectual wealth of pre-colonial Africa: "Ever since Emperor Kankan Moussa, the ruler of the ancient Empire of Mali, one of the most prestigious empires of our federation, made a pilgrimage to Mecca in 1324 scattering gold along the way, all the wretched of the earth have their eyes fixed on our felicity."(15) The writer underscores the fact that Africa was not a tabula rasa devoid of prosperity before the advent of colonialists. Intertextuality is another sharp tool that this novelist uses for the purpose of protest. Reference to the `wretched of the earth' is undoubtedly an allusion to Frantz Fanon's masterpiece of the same title. Waberi does not stop at mere allusions, he refers to the "neurologists in the Frantz Fanon Institute of Blida" (27) who have "come up with a dream-making machine that brings you whatever dreams you want while you sleep."(28) In a rather veiled manner, he refers to the legendary Kenyan writer Ngugi wa Thiong'o as follows: "Following Nzila Kongolo Wa Th'iongo (1786-1852), once so popular in the course of the unpredictable monarch Kodjo Aemjoro, author of the classic An Evening on the Danube..." (32) He pays tribute to Africa's illustrious musical virtuosos such as Miriam Makeba (38).

The distinctive characteristic of Abdourahman's style is his constant recourse to code-switching as a narrative technique. Purposeful linguistic miscegenation serves as an effective tool for the depiction of the socio-cultural specificities of the context in which his novel is written: "You hesitate between a bowl of kinkeliba and a glass of bissap."(29) Or this other interesting one: "Maya! Pleated bubus, draped djellabas, wraparound haiks, majestic gandouras, raffia straw, ivory and amber, muslin and cotton, cowries and tortoise shells--vanished all gone!"(45) The domestication of the ex-colonizer's language is evident here. It serves as a tool for speaking truth to power. It deflates arrogance of incumbency.

Waberi uses figurative language for communicative expediency as this example shows: "... his constant encouragements to the mother, who is flapping her lips like a fish yanked out of water."(114) Metaphors come in handy in the narrative as this statement illustrates: "Every one submits to the tick-tock of daily life, the order of life that pulses with each passing second..." (30). Or this very powerful one:" Outside, this small corner of the jungle is curling up in the arms of the rising dawn."(31) Waberi employs similes for comparative pungency: "Her great camel eyes are almost lifeless."(27) Proverbs enable him to drive home messages pregnant with meaning: "Never speak ill of the dead is the ancient rule execrated by the hard of heart who resent those who have just passed over to the other side." (109) All in all, figurative language is the palm oil with which words are eaten in In the United States of Africa, to paraphrase another illustrious son of Africa, Chinua Achebe .

In sum, In the United States of Africa is the handiwork of a literary virtuoso. Waberi distinguishes himself from the mainstream of Francophone African writers through the depth of his thought processes, adroit use of language, and skillful re-writing of history. This is a novel steeped in innovative ideas. It is a strikingly impressionistic and didactic work of fiction. The excellent translation of this fine work into English by David and Nicole Ball cannot escape encomium.

ABOUT THE REVIEWER

Dr. Vakunta is Professor of Global Languages at the Defense Language Institute, Monterey, California. He is author of many books on linguistics, literature, translation and fiction.

BOOK REVIEW

 LA MORT QUI A ETRANGLE LE COEUR DE L'AFRIQUE (2018) BY JANVIER CHANDO

 REVIEWER: Peter Wuteh Vakunta, Ph.D.

 

This is 40-page booklet is a bitter-sweet story. After reading the work, it dawned on me that language mastery is an indispensable tool in the effective transmittal of  human thoughts. It seems to me that Chando set out to provide his readers with an appetizing narrative of the events that preceded the brutal assassination of  Patrice Lumumba of Zaire.  Sadly enough, poor mastery of the language of Moliere totally marred his attempts to recount the nitty-gritty of a tale that has haunted  bona fide Panafricanists for decades. I will provide a handful of clumsy syntactic constructions that I found inimical to the transmission of the author's thoughts:

"Les historiens, les sociologues et les geopoliticiens s'accordent a dire que le Congo est le pays le plus traumatise  d'Afrique et du monde,  et que de toutes les atrocites que le Congo a connues dans son histoire maltraitee, l'assissinat de Patrice Lumumba etait l'acte le plus cruel."(p.25)

There is no denying the fact that a reader needs the aid of a soothsayer in order to unravel the hidden signification buried underneath this badly conceived syntactic structure.

And this is not all. One more example culled from a multitude:

"C'est pourquoi les interets occidentaux ont percu une menace dans la volonte de Patrice Lumumba de parvenir a une veritable  independance pour le Congo et de prendre le controle total des ressources du pays pour le developpment de la nation infantile et l'amelioration des conditions  de vie du peuple  Congolais."(p.30)  This begs the question what in the whole this is supposed to mean.

 

I could go on and on but suffice it to say that the entire book is marred by terribly poor syntactic constructions, not least of which are incorrect verbal tenses, capitalization of adjectives of nationality in French and worse still inexplicable omissions that leave the reader gasping for semantic breath.

 

As a language professional specialized in the fields of translation and interpreting,  as well as second language pedagogy, I can only conjecture that Janvier T. Chando wrote  his test in English and ran it through google translate. As any seasoned translator would tell you, garbage in gives birth to garbage.

 

One last lacuna that I noticed in this work is the inexplicable absent of a bibliographical page. There is nothing that lends credence to the fact that Chando consulted the works of other historians in the process of crafting his book.

REQUIEM FOR CAMEROON

A REVIEW OF TCHOUTEU'S CAMEROON: THE HAUNTED HEART OF AFRICA(2018)

 

 

BY PROFESSOR VAKUNTA, Ph.D.

 

I bought this book and read it in one sitting because it IS an easy read. In 102 pages the author unravels the manifold maladies that have made the Republic of CAMEROON the de facto sick man of Africa. The cankers that could be attributed to this state of affairs are threefold: dysfunctional government led by an absentee Head of State, Mr. Paul Biya, the system of lackeys set up in Cameroon by France by means of a geopolitical contraption called FrancAfrique and the Anglophone Problem. In the words of the author, "Paul Biya stands as the leader of the renegade forces that may eventually kill the Cameroonian nationalism and lead the nation into the abyss, denying it the realization of its century-old Cameroonian dream of unity, independence , prosperity and open opportunities."(p.50)

This book is actually a lampoon on the Cameroonian Head of State whom the writer portrays as a political caricature: "After becoming President in 1982, Biya has ruled Cameroon more like an absentee caretaker ..."(51). As the author sees it, this status quo has transformed Cameroon into a zombie Republic governed ineffectively by "Paul Biya and his French puppeteers."( p.63). He further notes that Cameroon has been functioning zombie-like during his quasi-presence."(p.63). The writer bemoans the fate of a country whose governmental apparatus "has been hijacked by the authoritarian system..", aided and abetted by the so-called leaders of the opposition(p.63.). In the author's view, Cameroonians have been taken for a ride.

As far as the Anglophone Problem is concerned, the author opines that the Anglophone problem stems from the disillusionment, frustration and anger of peoples West of the River Mungo( Former British Southern Cameroons)"(p.93). He argues that the forces that want to tear Cameroon apart are most visible in the English-speaking (Anglophone) part of the country."(p.101). This statement sounds like a sweeping generalization as far as I am concerned given that Ambazonians are not out to tear down Cameroon. Cameroonians who inhabit the region of Cameroon formerly known as the British Southern Cameroons want autonomy. They are fighting for recognition as a sovereign State.

The author calls upon Cameroonians of all stripes to work in tandem in order to jettison the deleterious system in the country that has kept all citizens under bondage for close to six decades. Sadly enough, the author fails to provide a dependable modus operandi that would lead Cameroonians to the realization of this goal of creating what the refers to as "the New Cameroon".(p.101)

All in all, Cameroon : The Haunted Heart of Africa (2018) is a good read. It would come in handy in political science courses where Cameroon's place on the geopolitical chess board is the bull's eye.

Professor Peter Vakunta, USA.

RAP ON NOMENCLATURE

 

                                Mona Lisa!

 

 

By Peter Vakunta, Ph.D.

 

What’s in a name?

A name is everything!

There’s nothing more important

Than a person’s birth name.

How sad that we constantly toy

With nomenclature!

Oftentimes for flimsy reasons.

People are dead uncomfortable 

In their real names!

They tinker them in order to

Adorn names devoid of meaning!

Elizabeth has become Beth;

Susan has metamorphosed into Sue;

Patricia has been rebaptized Pat alias Patty;

Christopher has been transformed into Chris;

Peter is now Pete;

Michael is Mike;

Charles is Chuck,

Mona Elisabeth is now Mona Lisa;

William has become Bill.

And the list continues.

Why are we doing this?

We make others feel

Like human counterfeits!

The art of naming

Is of such crucial importance

That linguistic gurus have coined

A term for it—onomastics

Do you know what’s done

To  folks who bear tongue-twisting names,

Like Wolfeschlegelsteinhausenberg?  

We ignore them altogether?

Isn’t that smart?

Listen, people’s names are their most

Priced gifts from birth.

Let’s steer clear of trifling with them.

The sweetest music to our ears

Is without an iota of doubt our names.

We have no carte blanche to

Mess with names regardless of origin.

©Vakunta 2022

DISSENT AS A HIGHER FORM OF PATRIOTISM

https://www.amazon.com/

 

PROFESSOR PETER VAKUNTA

Many of us who pontificate on the dissonance between dissent and patriotism remain oblivious to the fact that these are actually complementary terms. It is a slippery route to walk when we obstinately cling to the insane idea that any intellectual or scholar who takes his/her country, or continent for that matter, to task is ipso facto placing himself/herself in the camp of renegades. One of the most celebrated intellectuals of our time, Edward Said, argues in his seminal book Representations of the Intellectual (1994) that “One of the shabbiest of all intellectual gambits is to pontificate about abuses in someone else’s society and to excuse exactly the same practices in one’s own” (cited in Chomsky, The Common Good, 102). Closer home, Cameroonian scholar Bernard Nsokika Fonlon in his seminal work, Genuine Intellectuals: Academic and Social Responsibilities of Universities (2009) subscribes to Said’s worldview. Arguing along the same lines, celebrated Nigerian novelist, Chinua Achebe contends that one common feature of underdeveloped nations is the tendency among the ruling elite to live in a world of make-believe with regard to matters pertaining to patriotism. He remains adamant that "spurious patriotism is one of the hallmarks of Nigeria's privileged classes whose generally unearned positions of sudden power and wealth must seem unreal even to themselves"(35). Achebe's definition of a true ‘patriot’ is one "who will always demand the highest standards of his country or continent and accept nothing but the best from his people. He will be outspoken in condemnation of their shortcomings without giving way to superiority, despair or cynicism." (35)

In the second quarter of the nineteenth century a Russian aristocrat named Peter Chaadayev was portrayed as insane by order of Czar Nicholas I for publicly describing his country as a backward nation caught up in a narrow and boastful nationalism. Chaadayev subsequently defended his patriotism—and the views which had incurred the Czar’s displeasure—in an essay entitled “Apology of a Madman” (1837). “Believe me,” he wrote in the concluding paragraph of the essay, I cherish my country more than any of you… But it is also true that the patriotic feeling which animates me is not exactly the same as the one whose shouts have upset my quiet existence… I have not learned to love my country with my eyes closed, my head bowed, and my mouth shut. I think that one can be useful to one’s country only if one sees it clearly; I believe that the age of blind love has passed, and that nowadays one owes one’s country the truth. I confess that I do not feel that smug patriotism, that lazy patriotism, which manages to make everything beautiful, which falls asleep on its illusions and with which unfortunately many of our good souls are afflicted today (cited in Giffin and Smith, 1971, p.316)

In this paper, I equally deplore what I regard as the irksome tendency among Cameroonians to equate expression of dissent with lack of patriotism. I am adamant in my belief that to criticize one’s country or continent is in and of itself  an act of supreme patriotism. The Friend say, Qui aime bien chatie bien [He that loves well chastises well] To criticize Cameroon or Africa is to do it great service and pay it a compliment. It is supreme service because the expectation is that it would spur the country’s leadership to perform better than it is doing; it is a wake-up call because it evidences a belief that the country can do better. In a genuine democracy, dissent is tantamount to exercising one's constitutional right to freedom of speech; it creates room for checks and balances. Like medication, the test of its efficacy does not reside in its taste but in its effects. The test of its value is not how it makes people feel ill at east in the immediacy, but how it inspires nationals to act together for the better in the long term. Criticism may embarrass or even shock some thin-skulled folks in the short run but it will strengthen them in the long run; it may destroy a consensus on policy while expressing a consensus of values. There lies the ambivalence of the term ‘patriotism.’ Woodrow Wilson once said that there was “such a thing as being too proud to fight;” there is also, or ought to be, such a thing as being too confident to conform, too strong to be silent in the face of apparent abuse of power.  An intellectual worth his/her salt, should have the balls to speak truth to power and care less about whose ox is gored. In a nutshell, criticism has nothing to do with doublespeak; it is an act of patriotism, a higher form of patriotism that may elude the feeble-minded and the myopic. Criticism connotes a higher degree of commitment to excellence and a revolting disdain for mediocrity.

I may shock some of my readers by insisting that it is not a pejorative term but a tribute to say that Cameroon and Africa is worthy of criticism. Nonetheless, if I am charged with lack of patriotism on account of my convictions, I would respond with words borrowed from Albert Camus: “No, I didn’t love my country, if pointing out what is unjust in what we love amounts to not loving, if insisting that what we love should measure up to the finest image we have of her amounts to not loving…”(1974).

The root causes of Africa's pitiful performance on the international scene are not a mystery to any keen observer of the political circus that governs the continent —  comprador bourgeoisie, tribalism, corruption, impunity, myopia, mutual distrust, constitutional rape, blind allegiance to ex-colonial masters and more . My question is not whether or not  Africa can overcome all the fatalities associated with arrogance of incumbency. My concern is the modus operandi needed for this beautiful but misdirected continent to get out of the quagmire. I believe that Africa has all it takes to be the light of the world; I also believe that it is falling apart on account of its compromised ideals—good governance, accountability to citizens, fair play and sustainable development.

Gradually but unmistakably, we are succumbing to the epidemic of power abuse perpetrated by the ethnic oligarchies in Africa. In doing so Africa has failed to live up to her capabilities and pledges to its citizenry. The measure of the shortcomings of Africa's leadership is the measure of the African patriot’s duty of dissent. The intellectual has a critical role to play in blowing the whistle on the failings of leaders. The role of the intellectual in enlightening the rank and file and setting records straight for posterity is crucial. In doing so, the genuine intellectual must strive to distinguish himself/herself from "okrika" or "kokobioko" intellectuals. In the work referenced above, Said examines the ever-changing role of the bona fide intellectual in the task of nation-building. He suggests a recasting of the intellectual's vision to resist the lures of power and money. Said concludes that it is the role of the intellectual to be the voice of integrity and courage, able to speak out against those in power.

The discharge of this vital duty would be seriously handicapped by an unworthy tendency to categorize serious criticism as patriotic dissidence. It behooves our universities and personnel therein to step up and perform the salutary task that their grooming affords them because the most valuable public servant, like the true patriot, is one who gives a higher loyalty to his country’s aspirations. 

In a nutshell, suffice it to say that we must nurse the germ of dissent that lies in gestation in all of us. We must come to terms with the fact that patriotism can be interpreted in a myriad of ways. If it is interpreted to mean unquestioning support of existing policies, its effects can only be pernicious, serving to accentuate differences rather than reconcile them. If, on the other hand, patriotism is understood to mean love for one’s country or continent that pushes one to always demand the highest standards of one’s leaders, and to accept nothing but the best from one’s leaders, then and only then does it become a lasting basis of national strength. Or as Mark Twain would have it, “It were not best that we should all think alike; it is difference of opinion that makes horse-races” (Giffin and Smith, 320). Like Chaadayev, I do not believe in smug patriotism; I abhor that lazy patriotism which manages to make everything seem beautiful— patriotism that falls asleep on its illusions. I was raised to question authority and to speak truth to power. I will continue to hold leaders of the continent that I love the most—Africa, accountable. I have done so in A Nation at Risk: A Personal Narrative of the Cameroonian Crisis (2012) and Cry my Beloved Africa(2008 ) and will continue to do so until the powers-that-be in Africa regain sanity.

About the author

Dr. Peter Wuteh Vakunta is a professor at the United States Department of Defense Language Institute in California, USA.

Notes

Cited in Against the Grain, p.317)

Ethnic group of the incumbent

Hollow intellectuals

The Social Democratic (SDF) Front is the main opposition party in Cameroon. It is led by Ni John Fru Ndi and receives significant support from the Anglophone regions of the country. The SDF was launched in Bamenda on May 26, 1990 in opposition to the ruling Cameroon People's Democratic Movement. Following the launching rally, six people were killed by security forces.

This author has fictionalized this episode in his book of poems titled Ntarikon: Poetry for the downtrodden (2008).

Works cited

Achebe, Chinua. An Image of Africa and the Trouble with Nigeria. London: Penguin Books, 1983.

Camus, Albert. Resistance, Rebellion and Death (Translated from the French by Justin Obrien).New York: Vintage Books, 1974.

Chomsky, Noam. The Common Good. Tuscon: Odonian Press, 1996.

Giffin C. Frederick and Ronald D. Smith. Against the Grainst: An Anthology of Dissent, Past and Present. New York: New American Library, 19701.

Joseph, Richard. Gaullist Africa: Cameroon under Ahmadou Ahidjo. Enugu: Fourth Dimension Publishers, 1978.

Said, W. Edward. Representations of the Intellectual. New York: Pantheon Books, 1994.

Vakunta, W. Peter W. A Nation at Risk: A Personal Narrative of the Cameroonian Crisis.Bloomington: I-Universe, 2012.

---------Cry my Beloved Africa, Langaa, South Africa, 2008.

___. Ntarikon: Poetry for the Downtrodden. Bloomington: AuthorHouse, 2008.

WHAT GOD HAS PUT ASUNDER

Book Review: What God Has Put Asunder by Victor Epie Ngome

(Spear Books, 2021, 80 pp. Paperback $18.00. ISBN 978-1942876809)

Reviewer: Peter Wuteh Vakunta, Ph.D.

 

Ngome’s fictional work titled What God Has Put Asunder is a parody of a contemporary postcolonial African country, perhaps the Republic of Cameroon. Set against the backdrop of conflictual co-existence within the confines of an orphanage, this skillfully crafted drama takes the reader down memory lane. Ngome conveys his vision of postcoloniality and its vestiges throughout the play by means of two compatriots, namely Reverend Gordon, rector of the orphanage and Sister Sabeth who serves as Gordon’s assistant. These individuals run the orphanage according to their whims and caprices to the utter detriment of inmates.

The play eggs the reader onto drawing some significant parallels between the messy governance of the orphanage under the aegis of Reverend Gordon and Sister Sabeth on the one hand, and the murky political status quo in the post-colonial country on the other hand. What God Has Put Asunder thrives on the literary technique of parallelism, a trope that enables the playwright to underscore the irksome theme of contradistinction between people who belong in oppositional camps. The world inhabited by the likes of Weka, her children and Emeka is characterized by poverty and hardship. This world is the antithesis of the terrestrial paradise in which Reverend Gordon, Sister Sabeth, Garba, Sani, Kinge and Fatou cohabitate.

From the onset, the playwright portrays Weka as a depressed character: “I am sorry Sister Sabeth. I could hardly sleep all night. Just tossing and turning until the small hours of this morning…I don’t know, Sister. I just felt so low all night. As if something really depressing has just happened or was about to happen.” (p.1) This portrait serves as a prelude to the matrimonial hurdles to which Weka shall be subjected in the course of the narrative. Ngome uses the Weka-Sabeth rapport to shine the search light on the colluding role played by Christianity in the so-called European civilizing mission to Africa.  It is significant to note that in the face of Weka’s psychological torments, Sister Sabeth finds religion to be an efficacious antidote: “You remembered to pray at least, I trust?” Weka’s swift response debunks the religious myth: “Of course, yes. Many times. But it did not help.”(p.2). It is tempting to read into this dialogue Ngome’s attempt to portray religion as an opium of the colonized peoples of Africa. Weka’s response sheds ample light on the disillusionment that characterizes the thought patterns of some Africans who have rejected religion as a panacea for their colonial ailments.

Ngome seems to have written What God Has Put Asunder as a treatise on the nefarious role played by ethnocentrism in sustaining the status quo in Africa as seen in the following dialogue between Weka and  Sabeth:

Sabeth: "...But this fellow comes from the Njanga clan as well….

Weka: "I  am Njanga, yes, but that does not make him my…”

Sabeth: “Well, I thought that in Africa everybody is everybody’s cousin, brother, sister, uncle, aunt, father, mother.”(p.3) The epithet ‘Njanga’ seems to be a thinly veiled allusion to Cameroon. The ubiquitous theme of tribalism is broached once again when Garba, the businessman-cum- politician is introduced as an indigene of the Delta clan: “Yes, he comes from the neighboring Delta clan. He has a tongue-twisting name.” (p.4) It is remarkable how Ngome uses the trope of nomenclature to introduce critical themes into his play. Citizens of Njanga who hail from the Delta Clan are portrayed as “enterprising people.” (p.5) Spontaneously, some readers and viewers of this play might associate this epithet with the Bamileke ethnic group in Cameroon.

Gerrymandering and influence peddling in the political arena constitute sturdy leitmotifs in Ngome’s play. It is noteworthy that the playwright portrays Miché Garba as a political heavy-weighty based on nothing else but his ethnic origins. What God Has Put Asunder, it seems to me, is a lampoon on the unresolved conflict between the British Southern Cameroons and the French-speaking La République du Cameroun. The playwright dexterously weaves history into drama as seen in the allegorical representation of the Foumban Plebiscite as a sort of match making that Reverend Gordon contrives between Garba (Francophone) and Weka (Anglophone). It is significant that the matchmaker (Gordon) is an outsider (European). The role played by Gordon is analogous to the role played by the United Nations during the Foumban Conference.

In this incisive play, Ngome revisits the nagging theme of the Manichean stigmatization of the African continent. As Mudimbe (1988) notes, Western presumptions about Africa justify the process of inventing and conquering a continent and naming its “primitiveness or disorder as well as the subsequent means of its exploitation and methods for its “regeneration” (p.40).” In Ngome’s drama, Sister Sabeth plays the role of Africa’s doomsayer as seen in the following excerpt culled from Weka’s remarks directed at Reverend Gordon: “Of course, Reverend Gordon. How could I have forgotten that? Hasn’t Sister Sabeth always reminded me how primitive we are?”( p.10). The playwright seems to argue that the characterization of Africans as primitive savages; Africa as an uninhabited wilderness where courageous Europeans could go on exciting adventures; served as justification for the European broad daylight fleecing of Africa.

The theme of feminism is ubiquitous in What God has put Asunder. In many respects, Ngome portrays his protagonist, Weka, throughout the play as an unfazed feminist. She fights back against Reverend Gordon’s scheme to hand her over to Garba as wife in spite of her opposition as seen in the dialogue below:
Gordon: “I order you to shut up, child!”(p.10)
Weka: “Of course, you do. That is all it takes—an order, and the Rector’s holy will is done. Aren’t you lucky?”(p.11)

This conflictual verbal exchange between Weka and Reverend Gordon bears testimony to the woman’s determination to free herself from masculine predation. This force of character is also evident when Weka verbally fights back her husband’s condescension and bullying as seen below:
Garba:"...Weka, do you realize you are not my only wife? Your mates never question what I do, but you…” (p.39)
Weka: “That’s their funeral. I was brought up to ask questions about everything I don’t understand. You should have known that before saying your hasty ‘Yes I do’. Now let me see what’s in there.”(40)

It is noteworthy that this altercation degenerates into divorce when Weka quits her matrimonial home taking along all her kids. The historical veneer that connects Weka’s divorce from Garba on one hand and the de facto political divorce between British Southern Cameroons and La République du Cameroun is hard to dissimulate. This becomes more patent when Weka underscores Garba’s totalitarian comportment as one of the reasons in her plea for divorce in court:
“Once the festivities were over, he brought a fleet of trucks and bundled my children and me out of our house. His drivers gathered all our stuff, trampling and damaging many things, etc… and so he forced me to settle with him. Thenceforth he took to forcing my children to learning his mother tongue and forget mine with which they were raised. I have had to abide by the customs of his clan, not mine, and … in short he has simply been breathing down my neck since then.”(p.71)

It bears emphasizing the fact that there is an ongoing civil in Cameroon at present the principal cause of which is language disharmony between the Anglophone and Francophone constituents of the Republic of Cameroon. In this light, What God has put Asunder is without any shred of doubt a parody of the status quo in Cameroon. This play is a pastiche of the notorious Francophone-Anglophone conundrum. Ngome's voice seems to be the voice of the voiceless in Cameroon. He bemoans the fate of the `lost' generation of Cameroonian youths who serve as sacrificial lambs on the altar of nefarious politicking. One of the major institutional problems underlined in this play is the perpetration of corrupt governance from the top to the bottom in Cameroon. Garba is a prototype of the African lumpen bourgeoisie, a bourgeoisie that produces nothing. In short, What God Has Put Asunder is the cry of a dissident writer whose heart throbs for his downtrodden brethren.

This play captivating in several respects but the aspect that is attention wrenching is the playwright’s careful choice of rhetorical devices that enable him to weave themes into stylistics. The play is woven around the metaphor of a contrived marriage, better still, a marital simulacrum between two antagonistic partners. The playwright chooses his stylistic devices very carefully. Satire comes in handy in the play, and is intended to chide and deride the hypocritical intent of the colonial mission in Africa of which Reverend Gordon and Sister Sabeth seem to constitute the bull’s eye. Of great significance is the repeated use of tropes such as parallelism, symbolism, allusion, and suspense that endow the play with the exuberance that it exudes. Humor serves as comic relief throughout the play. Emeka’s tinkering with the English language certainly offers some cause for laughter as seen in the excerpt below:
“Reverend Gordon, so you have resident in Africa for so many ages and yet you does not know that Africa marriage start in the childhood? Is it because of dowry or… as you calls it, pride brice? When I was a childhood my papa for give, even if it was quantums of cows and goats. But even as he was not alive, Chineke keep his dear soul, I for do it myself when I growed up small. Only she too have no father, and I cannot give dowry price bride to you since you…” (p.25)
Readers without a smattering if Pidgin English would be hard pressed in their attempt to unravel the signification of Emeka’s discourse. Another bombastic utterance attributed to Emeka is as follows: “Eh? Look at me proper. If you does not conconise me then you are suffer magnesia. Anyway, my nomination is Emeka. Emeka Nwachukwu of Umudele, Delta clan.”(p.21)

What God Has Put Asunder is replete with these kinds of semantic shifts that lend credence to the assertion by Chinua Achebe (1975) that the price a world language such as English must be prepared to pay is submission to many kinds of use. Achebe further notes that the English spoken by Africans is still in full communion with its ancestral home but altered to suit its new African surroundings.”(pp. 61-62)
There is not a single page in this play where one does not find an African expression, word, sentence or turn of phrase culled from the native tongue of the playwright and judiciously transposed into English. Ngome indigenizes the English language in What God Has Put Asunder for the purpose of providing a cultural backdrop for his fiction.

Briefly, this play is a compelling narrative directed at a global audience. It reveals the socio-economic and political conundrums existing in our contemporary society. The play also lays bare the intricately woven interrelationships between the rich and the poor, the well placed and the wretched of the earth. It is a satire on the contraptions employed by the 'seemingly' rich who have a dereliction for manipulating the poor in order to further their quest for wealth and dominance. Most importantly, What God Has Put Asunder is a parody of the political status quo in the Republic of Cameroon. It is a play worth watching. A must-read for all literati in Cameroon and in the diaspora.

 

Works cited

Achebe, Chinua. Morning yet on Creation Day: Essays. London: Heinemann, 1975.

Mudimbe, V.Y. Invention of Africa: Gnosis, Philosophy and the Order of Knowledge.

Ngome, E. N. What God Has Put Asunder. Denver: Spears Books, 2021.

Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1988.
Vakunta, P.W. “The Manichaean Stigmatization of Africa.” Pambazuka.2013.

 

RED-LIGHT DISCTRICT (Poem)

 

 

 

By

Professor Peter Wuteh Vakunta

 

What’s in a name?

Everything is in a name.

As old as Eve,

Names are legion—

Red-light District.

 

What’s in this nomenclature?

Brothel,

Ho-house,

Ass-house,

House of joy.

 

Who’s a whore?

Ass-peddler,

Call girl,

Flesh merchant,

Bimbo.

 

What’s in this appellation?

Much ado about naught—

Hustlers,

Floozies,

Ladies of the evening.

 

In all shapes and forms.

Street-walkers,

Working girls,

Whores,

Bordellos alias Sluts.

 

What’s in onomastics?

There’s a ton in naming.

Bordel,

House of ill-fame,

Massage parlor.

 

What a job!

To do or not to do?

That’s the question!

Market booties,

C’est à dire[i], whore around.

 

Cry beloved daughters of Eve!

Always on the turf,

To peddle twats,

Constantly on the street

To trade makandi[ii].

© Vakunta 2021

 

 Notes

[i] In other words

[ii] ‘Buttocks’ in Cameroon Pidgin English

RAP ON NOMEMCLATURE

 

 

BY PROFESSOR PETER WUTEH VAKUNTA

 

What’s in a name?/

There’s nothing more important/

Than a person’s name!/

Is man a counterfeit?/

The problem is we toy

Too much with names!/

Oftentimes for flimsy reasons./

 

People are no longer happy/

With their real names!/

They take liberties with nomenclature!/

Relishing affixes devoid of signification./

Elizabeth has become Beth;/

Susan has metamorphosed into Sue;/

Patricia has been reborn as Pat alias Patty./

 

Christopher has metamorphosed into Chris;/

Peter is now Pete;/

Michael is Mike;/

Charles is Chuck;/

Elizabeth has rejuvenated into Betsy!/

William has rebaptized Bill./

And the list continues./

 

Has mankind lost sanity?/

Are we gone hay hire?/

Why are we doing this to fellow humans?/

We make others feel/

Like human counterfeits!/

The art of naming/

Is of such crucial importance/

 

That linguistic gurus coined/

The term onomastics for it!/

Do you know what’s done/

To people who have  jaw-breaking/

Names like Shokolokobangoshia?/

We simply ignore them!/

Isn’t that smart?/

 

People’s names are their most/

Priced gifts from God/.

Let’s not trifle with them./

The sweetest music to my ears/

Is my own name!/

We have no carte blanche to/

Fiddle with names!

©Vakunta 2021

UBUNTU

 

 

By 

Professor Peter Vakunta

Hip! Hip! Hooray!/

I sing UBUNTU!/

I sing HARAMBE!/

I sing UJAMMA/

I sing MASAKHANE!/

I sing AFRITUDE!/

I sing African Renaissance!

 

Hip! Hip! Hooray!/

I ain't no arbiter of alien designs/

Offspring of universal symbiosis/

UBUNTU, my credo/

Hip! Hip! Hooray!

Hymn to inmates/

Of global dungeons/

 

Hip! Hip! Hooray!

Homage to graduates of Robben Island/

And of Guantanamo/

The world’s epic dungeon/

Where the innocent/

Cohabitate with the miscreant/

Zut alors! Damned it!/

 

I wanna say what I gotta say/

No mofo's gonna/

Tell me to shut up!/

The underworld’s sick/

Deep in shit/Quagmire/Mire!

Gives me the creeps!

 

This joint’s gone bonkers/

Dirtballs/ hoodlums/scallywags/

Riff-raff/ nitwits/ thingamabobs/

In all nooks and crannies/

Wheelers and dealers are/

Calling the shoots left, right and center!/

 

Hip! Hip! Hooray!

Nincompoops taking

Hostage the land of the free/

Land of the great/ No Man’s Land/

Darn assholes/cocky self-servers/

Mother fuckers! Sons of a bitch!

 

A jilted lover storms into/

His girl’s apartment/

Shoots her to death!/

Pandemonium! Mayhem!/

A cuckolded husband/

Charges into a lovers’ nest/

 

A cokehead gets screwed up/

Armed to the teeth/He barges into a love-nest/

Clobbers wife and carnal thief to death/

Chaos! Fire on the mountain?

Run! Run! Run!

What a hellhole!/

 

High schooler flunks her finals/

On account of binge drinking/

Coupled with unbridled fornication/

Takes entire faculty hostage/

There’s crossfire/

Fatal shots resonate /

 

Sauve-qui-peut général!/[i]

Victims drop dead!/

Gun mania  partout!/

Our stock- in-trade.

Hand of NRA in this shit?/

Arm yourselves! New credo!/

 

I flex my muscles/

I prime my revolver/

And pull the trigger/

Poom! Poom!

Foe drops dead/

In a pool of blood/

 

Does that resolve the problem?/

Humankind is deranged!/

I hear the voice of reason/

I listen to it in the wilderness/

Crying for peace/For pacification/

Decrying bravado in futility.

Peter Vakunta @ 2021

 

[i]  General stampede

TCHOKO

 

 

 

By

 

Professor Peter Wuteh Vakunta

 

 

Some sick dong kam for Kamerun

Yi bad sotai taim no dei,.

Da sick dem di call’am sei tchoko.

Tchoko na popo come no go!

All Camers dem dong katch da sick!

Dem daso tchoko, soso tchoko!

Big man tchoko, small man tchoko!

Katika tchoko, tchotchoro tchoko!

Da sick trong sotai pass all pipo.

You wan throway nye for youa dossier

For any office for Ongola,

Dem go sei mek you tchoko.

Tchoko na popo ‘cancer’ for Ongola-o!

You wan write concours,

Dem go sei mek you tchoko.

Tchoko na popo SIDA for Cameroon-o!

You wan put pikin for sukulu,

Dem go sei mek you tchoko.

Tchoko na popo ‘ Corona’ for we own kontri-o!

Mbere-khaki stop youa jalopy for road,

Yi go daso sei mek chaffeur tchoko,

Haha Haha! Massa! No which kain kontri dis?

Tchoko na popo ‘pandemie’ for Abakwa-o!

Woman wan born for hospita,

Dem go daso tok sei mek yi tchoko.

Tchoko na popo come no go for Nooremac-o!

Youa repe meng,

You wan mof yi die body for ‘mortuary’,

Dem go sei mek you tchoko.

Ah Ah! Da mean sei Satan yi sef

Gring dis palava tchoko?

Tchoko na Sick Number One

For di Republic of Clando-o! 

You go for fain boulot,

If dem no ask you for gif lass,

Dem go sei mek you tchoko.

Heh Maleh! Heh Maleh!

No wandaful oh! Man go dei oh!

Chômencam for Ngolo-o!

Tchoko na barlok sick-o!

You wan mek mariage for Eglise,

Fada go sei mek you tchoko.

Da sick dong katch sef pipo for church-o!

Youa pikin wan tek baptism,

Pastor go sei mek you tchoko.

Yi dei like sei God for Ongola

Yi sef dong gring dis palava for tchoko!

Tchoko na popo AIDS for Cameroon-o!

How wey yi be so,

Wusai we go tek megan

Kam mof dis barlok sick dei heh?

Magan pipo for Oku,

Dong try yi pass dem.

Melecin pipo for Nyos,

Dong try yi pass dem.

Marabout dem for Adamawa,

Dong try yi pass dem.

Malam dem for Foumbot,

Dong try wit gris-gris yi daso pass dem!

Mukala for bled for wat dem

Dong try wit white-man megan,

Yi daso pass dem daso.

Na yi wey ‘Transparency International’

Dem dong vex sotai dem tok sei:

Cameroon na di 'Sick Man of Africa'!

Woomoh! Woomoh! Woomoh! Barlok-eh!

Na which kain barlok tchoko sick dis eh!

Yeee! Ein! Yeee! Ein! Yeee! Ein!

 

About the author

Professor Vakunta teaches French Linguistics  and Francophone Literature at the University of Indianapolis where he served as Chair of the Department of Global Languages and Cross-Cultural Studies (2013-2018).  He has under his belt several theoretical and fictional publications and a sizeable number of articles in peer-reviewed journals. He also teaches for the Defense Language Institute headquartered in Monterey-California.

Linguistic Decolonization in Camfranglais Literature: A Pedagogical Perspective

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

By Professor Peter Wuteh Vakunta

 

Introduction

The distinctive feature of Cameroonian literature written in Camfranglais is authors’ recourse to linguistic decolonization as a narrative mode. An incontrovertible manifestation of linguistic variance in contemporary Cameroonian literature resides in the tendency by fiction writers to resort to modes of writing characterized by linguistic indigenization—that is, an attempt at textualizing linguistic differentiation and conveying indigenous concepts, thought patterns and worldview through the ex-colonizer’s language (Zabus, 1991). One of the celebrated aspects of Camfranglais literature is the introduction of a mass of images, semantic shifts, neologisms and even syntactic elements from indigenous languages into hexagonal French. Kouega(2003) defines camfranglais as “a composite language consciously developed by secondary school pupils who have in common a number of linguistic codes, namely French, English and a few widespread indigenous languages”(23). In an attempt to convey territorial speech patterns, cultural specificity and worldviews in a European language, Cam-Anglophone writers resort to indigenizing features culled from vernacular languages. This style of writing poses daunting challenges for readers who are not familiar with the cultural matrices in which the texts are written. The intent of this paper is to tease out the implications of linguistic innovation for readers of Camfranglais literature. The overriding objective is to conceptualize a model suitable for teaching Moi taximan (2001), a novel written partially in Camfranglais by Gabriel K. Fonkou.

In writing Moi taximan Fonkou functions both as a linguistic innovator and cultural mediator. The novelist goes about this double task essentially through the process of linguistic domestication—the use of linguistic elements culled from African languages to mark the work geo-linguistically. Arguing along similar lines, Gandanou (2002) observes:

Dans le roman ouest-africain de langue française, l’utilisation d’éléments linguistiques empruntés à l’une ou l’autre langue d’Afrique est un moyen utilisé le plus souvent pour marquer l’oeuvre géolinguistiquement, donner l’impression au lecteur de lire un roman ouest-africain (26).

[In the West African novel of French expression, recourse to linguistic elements culled from African languages is a device most often used to mark a work geo-linguistically, to give readers the impression that they are reading a West African novel.]

Fonkou resorts to the technique of composition in an attempt to create new words out of existing French words for the purpose of mapping the speech patterns of Cameroonians. The process of composition is defined by Noumssi and Wamba (2002) as “la formation d’une unité sémantique à partir d’éléments lexicaux susceptibles de jouir d’une autonomie dans la langue” (30) [the formation of a semantic unit from lexical elements that are able to exist autonomously in the language.] Compounds serve a variety of functions, not least of which is the denotation of concepts that do not exist in hexagonal French and culture as the following excerpt suggests: “Les premiers contacts avec les mange-mille et les gendarmes coûtent cher, mais par la suite, tout le monde se connaît et il s’établit comme un contrat tacite.”(12) [The first encounters with the mange-mille and gendarmes often cost much, but with time, people get to know one another and a sort of tacit contract is established.][1] The compound word ‘mange-mille’ is a derivative of two French words—‘manger’ [to eat] and ‘mille” [one thousand].  It is a derogatory term used by speakers of Camfranglais to describe corrupt police officers notorious for taking bribes from taxi drivers, generally in the neighborhood of 1000 CFA francs.  The word “mille” is a truncation of “mille francs” [one thousand francs].  It should be noted that while this Africanizing function serves the overall purpose of giving Fonkou’s novel local flavor, it is rarely the sole reason. The majority of neologisms used in Moi taximan have stylistic and plot-related motivations within the context of the text itself. In addition to endowing the text with an African flavor, linguistic innovation permits the denotation of Cameroonian reality, rather than an approximation of it as this example illustrates:

“Entre deux clients, Justine et sa mère participaient activement à l’entretien de la chaude ambiance du secteur des ‘bayam sellam’: potins, querelles simulées, plaisanteries et fausses confidences bruyantes y provoquaient de gros éclats de rire.” (131) [Between two customers, Justine and her mother took part in the heated discussions that brought life to the ‘bayam sellam section of the market: gossip, simulated quarrels, jokes and noisy false pretenses that provoked outbursts of laughter.] ‘Bayam sellam,’ is a compound noun derived from Cameroonian Pidgin English. Literally, it means “buy” and “sell.” It is used in this novel to describe market women described by the protagonist as “des revendeuses, cette catégorie de commerçantes aggressives sans les lesquelles nos marchés perdraient leur âme.”(130) [retail traders, this category of aggressive market women without whom our markets would lose their liveliness.][2]Fonkou’s non-conformity to hexagonal French language norms may be perceived as a strategy that enables him to subvert and decolonize the Cameroonian Europhone novel.  As Zabus (2007) would have it, relexification “seeks to subvert the linguistically codified, to decolonize the language of early, colonial literature” (118). Zabus’ contention echoes analyses by Bhabha (1994) that underscore the power of what he refers to as “hybridizing language” (59). Bhabha’s  postulation parallels Mehrez’s (1992) view that the “ultimate goal” of postcolonial literature containing “culturo-linguistic layering” is to subvert hierarchies by bringing together the “dominant “and the “underdeveloped,” by exploding and confounding different symbolic worlds and separate systems of signification in order to create a mutual interdependence and inter-signification”(122).

The purposeful code mixing noticeable in Moi taximan serves as an effective tool not only for transposing cultural tracings into fiction but also for depicting the contextual polyglossia that sustains the text.  Linguistic diversity forms the backdrop against which the narrative takes place in this novel. The main action takes place in a context where languages intermingle as the following example illustrates: “A en juger par le comportement de mon patron, je le soupçconnais de ne pas appartenir à cette classe de “tso ce lap”, de ceux qui bouffent sans avoir travaillé” (39). [Judging by the comportment of my master, I have the inkling that he did not belong in this class of de “tso ce lap”, those who harvest where they did not sowed.] Notice the denotational semantics that is achieved in the aforementioned excerpt through the novelist’s recourse to native tongue lexemes. Linguistic plurality is the hallmark of fictional writing in camfranglais as seen this other example: “Je m’installa moi-même au volant, un peu effrayé à la pensée de toutes les choses peu rassurantes qui se racontaient sur les maguidas” (57). [I, myself, sat down behind the steering wheel, a little scared by thoughts of some of the frightful things that were being said about maguidas.]

It should be noted that “maguidas” is a native tongue word culled from Fulfulde and Hausa languages spoken in Cameroon. It refers to a wealthy Northern Cameroonian, generally one who professes the Islamic faith.  Recourse to indigenous language words such as these gives Fonkou the leeway to depict the phenomenon of language contact in a linguistically pluralistic context that forms the backdrop of the novel. More often than not, the primordial function of linguistic indigenization is metonymic as seen in the example above where the word “maguida” is used as a metonym for all “Northern Cameroonians.”  Fonkou resorts to the technique of linguistic decolonization in an attempt to exorcize his narrative as seen in the following excerpt: “Mais, Monsieur le directeur, je paie comme un alhadji” (174) [But, Manager, I pay like an Alhadji.] The proper noun, Alhadji, refers to a Muslim who has been to Mecca as a pilgrim.  Alhadjis are also associated with wealth, and therefore, deemed to not be parsimonious when paying for goods and services.   Another type of creative writing trope that comes in handy in Foukou’s decolonizing process is semantic shift.

Moi taximan is replete with French words that have undergone the linguistic process of semantic shift as seen in the following excerpt: “Pour partir avec moi, mon copain avait confié son taxi à un attaquant” (149) [To come along with me, my buddy had given his taxi to a substitute driver.” The narrator employs the hexagonal French word ‘attaquant’ to describe a taxi driver’s substitute.  However, in Camfranglais, this word is endowed with a secondary meaning: “a taximan that is prone to road rage.”  In my  translation of the novel, I rendered the word  “attaquant” as “substitute driver”  based on contextual clues available in the text, notably the novelist’s extra-textual material provided in a gloss: “un chauffeur de dépannage” (149)[ a driver that helps out].  Fonkou resorts to semantic shifts in a bid to fictionalize Cameroonianisms[3] as seen in this example: “Seules deux paroles toutes froissés sorties de nos poches furent entendues par le beret rouge qui nous rendit nos papiers et notre liberté (150)[The red berets who only understood the language spoken by two crumpled banknotes returned our documents and set us free.] The appropriation of the word “parole” is evident in this example. The novelist uses “parole” as a euphemism for “billet de mille francs CFA.” In the same vein, “beret rouge” is a metonym for ‘gendarme’. It should be noted that Fonkou uses the expression “parole” to satirize the endemic corruption for which Cameroonian law enforcement officers are notorious. In Cameroon, gendarmes and police officers openly take bribes from taxi drivers and other commuters, generally in the neighborhood of one thousand CFA francs.

Another noteworthy recourse to the technique of linguistic decolonization by Fonkou is seen in the following except: “Au premier passage le matin devant le poste de contrôle, tu donnes le café, et te voilà quitte pour travailler en paix jusqu’au changement d’équipe autour de treize heures” (12) [The first time you pass by the check-point in the morning, you serve coffee and then you are free to work peacefully until there is a shift at one o’clock in the afternoon.]   The word “Café” used by the narrator is a camfranglais expression that has nothing to do with the coffee that people drink every day. “Donner le café” in Camfranglais parlance is equivalent to the hexagonal French expression “donner le pourboire” [give a tip] or [give a bribe]. This sort of linguistic domestication has the potential to complicate attempts at literary analysis by critics who are unfamiliar with the phenomenon of semantic neologism in African literature of French expression.  In his analysis of French in West African novels, Gandonou (2002) defines semantic neologism as “l’emploi d’un mot dans un sens nouveau” (91). [The use of a word with a new meaning.]Gandonou’s definition is analogous with Bandia’s (2008) category of “semantic shift” (101) which englobes French language usage that is at variance with standard usage. There are numerous instances of recourse to semantic neologisms in Moi taximan. More often than not, their meaning is not explained in the body of the text, thus leaving the reader to conjecture the semantic signification of the expressions used in the narrative. In a few cases, Fonkou explains the meaning of the words in the body of the text as the following excerpt illustrates: “On sortait de l’opération avec un plus grand sourire si, en plus, les passagers longue distance avaient ‘proposé’, c’est-à-dire offert de payer plus cher que le tariff normal” (8) [At the end of the day, we returned home with a big smile if, in addition to the normal fare, long-distance commuters had proposed, in order words , had paid more than the normal fare].” Had the narrator not inserted the explicatory statement “c’est-à-dire offert de payer plus cher que le tariff normal,” the meaning of the utterance would have remained obscure to readers unaccustomed to Camfranglais speech patterns. Clearly, the verb “proposer” [to propose] has been endowed with new meaning in the narrative. “Proposer” in Camfranglais refers to instances where passengers pay more than the normal taxi fare. The purposeful indigenization of French in Moi taixman lends credence to the contention that the younger generation of Cameroonian writers are distancing themselves from the elite French found in novels written during the colonial era in Cameroon such as Mission terminée(1957) and Le vieux nègre et la médaille(1956) by Mongo Beti and Ferdinand Oyono respectively.

One noticeable type of mesolectal variation that occurs frequently in Moi taximan is recourse to interlingual borrowings, notably borrowings from African languages as seen in the following statement: “Tu as rencontré une nga, une wa il y a quelques mois” (106). [You met a nga, a wa a few months ago] Notice that Fonkou uses two indigenous language words here “nga” and “wa” that refer to “girl.” Camfranglais speakers have adopted these words and now use them to refer to a girl for whom one has a crush. In the majority of cases, borrowed words are not set apart from the main narrative by means of inverted commas or italics, nor are they accompanied by a French gloss. The fact that these words are not marked apart or glossed in the novel underscores the novelist’s desire to incorporate them in Cameroonian French, the more so because these borrowings represent an important aspect of the African identity of the original text. They often also convey significant attitudinal and connotational meanings (Batchelor, 2009) as seen in the following example: “Je suis entré dans le famla en épousant une fille exceptionnelle” (173). [I have been initiated into famla by virtue of my marriage to an exceptional girl]. Fonkou’s allusion to “famla” is significant given that it is culturally relevant in the narrative. “Famla” is a Bamileke[4] secret society commonly associated with sorcery and pecuniary gains.   In addition to semantic neologisms and lexical borrowings, Fonkou uses longer expressions which are a result of calquing from Cameroonian languages as the following except suggests: “Tu prends n’importe quelle decision, tu es souverain, je marche avec toi” (133) [You make any decision, I will walk with you, you are sovereign].  It may be difficult to derive the meaning of this statement by simply piecing together the individual elements that make up the calque.

Fonkou’s recourse to native tongue words poses enormous textual analysis problems as seen in the following example: “La chose métallique est un djambo…” (39) [Metallic business is djambo; it is gambling...] The word “djambo,” is a Camfranglais word that translates as “gambling” in Standard English. The narrator uses this word to allude to the vicissitudes associated with the taxi industry, which is deemed risky business. Including a gloss, “it’s gambling” in the translation, clears the obfuscation. The gloss may look like translational padding but it actually fulfills the critical function of elucidating any ambiguity that may be inherent in the source text. Moi taximan defies word-for-word or literal translation on account of the word smiting that characterizes Fonkou’s writing style as the following sentence illustrates: “Dans l’après midi, je devais rembourser de l’argent dans une tontine des ressortissants de mon village natal” (7). [In the afternoon, I had to pay back money I had borrowed from members of a tontine, a thrift society of people from my village.] The word ‘tontine’ is a Camfranglais word that describes a ‘thrift society’ where members contribute and borrow money when the need arises. Without the appositional addition “a thrift society’, the reader would stumble on the semantic connotation of the word “tontine.”

Lexical truncation is another word formative process used abundantly by Fonkou for the purpose of spicing his narrative with local color and flavor as this example suggests: “J’avais remarqué dès les premiers jours que certains collègues clandos ne s’arrêtaient pas aux barrières de contrôle, ou que quand ils s’y arrêtaient, c’était pour échanger avec les contrôleurs des plaisanteries puis repartir sans avoir servi ni le café ni la bière” (12). [I had noticed from the onset that some colleagues driving clando (illegal) taxis never stopped at the police checkpoint, or only stopped there to crack jokes with the inspectors and left without serving coffee or beer] Notice that “clando” is a Camfranglais word derived by truncating the French word “clandestin” [clandestine]. Another notable example of truncation in the novel is the following statement: “Si de la condamner comme tu le fais signifie que tu ne nourris aucun préjugé d’intello, alors tant mieux pour moi.”(135)[If by damning her the way you do means that you do not nurse any intello biases, well then, so much the better for me.] Fonkou derives “intello” from the word “intellectuel” [Intellectual]. The process of truncation enables him to not only create new words; but also to transpose Cameroonianisms and indigenous cultural traces into standard French.

Moi taximan is replete with culture-specific traces. These traces have dual functions. They represent culturally bound information as well as the socio-linguistic worldview that lies behind the French text. Visible traces are used by the protagonist quite often to stress his cultural identity as seen in the extract below: “Plusieurs femmes de la concession transportèrent dans le ntang les vivres et le objets apportés par la délégation.”(155) [Many women of the compound carried foodstuff and objects brought by the delegation into the ntang.] Notice that the writer neither glosses nor italicizes the word “ntang.” This is his attempt at domesticating metropolitan French spoken in Cameroon. The word “ntang” translates as the main house belonging to the head of the compound. In this example, the visible trace is not used by the protagonist out of denotational necessity but as part of a deliberate attempt to highlight his own cultural identity and to maximize the interest of others in him as an African. Another visible trace in the novel that denotes culturally bound objects is seen in the following extract: “Non, un bon bita kola et un matango coupé d’odontol” (120) [No, a good bita kola and some matango mixed with odontol]. Fonkou uses cultural traces because the information they embody cannot be conveyed in standard French because the realities are non-existent in France. Bita kola, for example, is a fruit that grows uniquely in Africa. It has a bitter taste and functions as an aphrodisiac. It is often used ceremonially as presents to chiefs or guests. Odontol, an indigenous language word, refers to locally brewed whiskey.  Fonkou culls words from Cameroon’s culinary lexicon to provide his text with a cultural substratum as seen in this excerpt: “La journée d’hier a été djidja” (19). [Yesterday was djindja]. ‘Djidja,’ a loanword from Cameroonian culinary lexicon, is derived from the English word ‘ginger.’ Cameroonians use the word ‘djidja’ to describe an extremely difficult situation akin to what metropolitan French speakers would describe as “une mer à boire”[i]  [an uphill task.]

Last but not least Fonkou taps into his people’s collective memory in a bid to enrich his narrative with folklore. He has a predilection for proverbs as seen in these examples: “Ne dit-on pas au village qu’il faut feindre d’être mort pour voir comment on te pleure?”(118)[Isn’t it said in the village that you have to stage your own death in order to see how you’re mourned?]  This aphorism is pregnant with meaning. It is also quite didactic. The other example weighs heavily on the law of karma: “Quand vous crachez en l’air le crachet vous retombe sur le nez” (29) [When spit into the air, your spittle falls back onto your nose.] This is the indigenized version of the occidental maxim, ‘what goes around comes around’. Finally, Fonkou offers his readers some lessons on predestination as follows: “Personne ne peut arracher le champignon de l’autre.”(55)[No one can harvest another man’s mushrooms.]

In conclusion, the intent of this paper has not been simply to provide readers with a plethora of writing styles used by Fonkou in crafting his novel.  The goal has been to propose pedagogical paradigms suitable for teaching hybrid texts such as Moi taximan.  The question that begs to be asked at this juncture is why is it critical for instructors of Francophone novels from Cameroon to be conversant with evolutionary trends inherent in the texts? I contend that knowledge of hexagonal French alone will not suffice to do justice to the teaching of a linguistically pluralistic ethnographic novel such as Moi taximan. Professors who teach this novel cannot but be like the text itself—at once bilingual and bicultural. Given the polytonality and multilingual composition of Moi taximan, instructors must conceive appropriate models for literary analysis. This novel irrefutably calls for a multifaceted framework for literary criticism, three of which I have discussed below.

Critical Thinking Culture-Based Model

This instructional model is based on Bloom’s Taxonomy (1956) of textual analysis. To effectively unravel the holistic message embedded in the essential elements (EEI’s) of a text, Bloom argues, instructors need to create learning tasks that enable learners to interact with textual material at six different levels: Evaluation(making value judgments about issues, resolving controversies, assessing theories, composing ideas, evaluating outcomes); Synthesis(creating a unique original product that may be in verbal form or a combination of ideas to form a new whole, using old concepts to create new ones); Analysis (organizing ideas and recognizing trends, finding the underlying structure of  communication, identifying motives); Application (using and applying knowledge, problem-solving, use of facts and principles); Comprehension(interpreting, translating from one medium to the other, demonstrating, summarizing, discussing the signifier and signified interconnection); Knowledge (recall of information, discovery, and observation). This framework is germane for the textual analysis of multilayered and linguistically pluralistic novels such as Moi taximan, the more so because literary criticism calls for textual interpretation as the following model illustrates.

Hermeneutic-Exegetic Model

Hermeneutic is the Greek word for interpreter. Hermeneutics is the theory of interpretation.  The theory of hermeneutics propounded by Schleiermacher and Bowie (1998) underscores the importance of interpreting not only the latent (hidden) meanings embedded in a literary text but also the situational dimensions that constitute the matrix in which the text was written. The interpretative component of the hermeneutic theory goes hand in hand with the theory of exegesis, understood to mean a thorough analysis of the content of a given text. Exegesis is a method of attempting to understand a text. The exegete studies the lexical components as well as the syntactic structure of the text in order to discern the illocutionary intent of the writer.  S/he draws meaning out of the text rather than reads meaning into it.  Exegesis entails interpreting a text for the purpose of expounding and revealing the essence of its messages.  Inter-lingual translators often have recourse to this model in the job they perform on a daily basis in order to bridge gaps in cross-cultural communication. The Hermeneutic-Exegetic model is ethnocentric and, therefore, deemed appropriate for teaching an ethnographic novel such as Moi taximan. Schleiermacher and Bowie underscore the need to use the hermeneutic circle in the process of textual analysis because it enables the reader to lay bare the significations contained in the deep structure of a literary text. The hermeneutic circle facilitates analysis of a literary text by enabling the critique to come to grips with the fact that one’s wholesome understanding of a text is established by reference to the individual parts. Schleiermacher and Bowie note that neither the whole text nor any individual parts can be understood without reference to the others, and hence, it is a circle. The circularity inherent in hermeneutics implies that the meaning of a text is to be found within its cultural, historical, and literary contexts.

Styles-and-Strategies-Based Instructional Model(SSBI)

Cohen and Weaver (2006) conceived the Styles-and-Strategies-Based Instructional Model as a framework for teaching foreign languages. It is suitable for teaching literatures written in hybridized less commonly taught languages such as creoles, pidgins and lingua franca. The framework is based on the theory of scaffolding, a concept that stems from the idea that at the beginning of the learning process, learners need a great deal of support; gradually, this support is taken away to allow students to develop a sense of independence. This is what Cohen and Weaver call the gradual release of responsibility. Other facets of the model include: modeling, cooperative learning, activation of schemata, student learning choices and self-initiated learning. The SSBI model is a learner-focused approach to literary criticism that explicitly encourages different kinds of interactions in the classroom. Emphasis is placed on how specific learning tasks might call for certain learning style preferences and, therefore, necessitate certain instructional strategies.

Conclusion

In a nutshell, by revisiting Fonkou’s seminal novel, Moi taximan, I sought to underscore the fact that this Cameroonian novel, like others, namely Temps de chien (2001), Je parle camerounais: pour un renouveau francofaune (2001), branle-bas en noir et blanc (1999), and Trop de soleil tue l’amour (1999) is in essence, a hybrid text that defies superficial reading.  Attempts at achieving linguistic decolonization noticeable throughout the text is a response to the call for new ways of writing African literature. Teachers of Cameroonian literature of French expression cannot continue to teach these texts using the same models that were used in teaching metropolitan novels like Madame Bovary (Flaubert, 1856), Le rouge et le noir (Stendhal, 1830), Le père goriot (Balzac, (1835); Germinal (Zola, 1885); L’immoraliste (Gide, 1902), La jalousie (Robbe-Grillet, 1957), Planétarium (Sarraute, 1959), La nausée (Sartre, 1938) and so on.

Whether or not Fonkou has achieved the goal of decolonizing the Cameroonian novel of French expression by obliterating the imprint of imperial French is a moot point. Literary scholars like Ngugi wa Thiong’o (1986) have argued that to qualify as indigenous, African literature has to be written in native languages. He further points out that “Literature written by Africans in European languages… can only be termed Afro-European literature; that is, the literature written by Africans in European languages” (27). Much as we value the success of Fonkou in imprinting his text with the worldview, imagination, speech patterns, and cultural characteristics of indigenous peoples, we cannot discount the fact the core of his text is written in French, a European language. In spite of the impressive linguistic innovations inherent in the novel, it is still essentially a French novel. For this writer, French is a necessary evil with which he must come to terms. Straddling two socio-cultural spheres, Foukou find himself at the cross-roads of languages. He cannot be faithful to the one without betraying the other.

NOTES

[1]  All translations are mine unless otherwise indicated

[2] Bayam sellam’ trade consists precisely of buying and selling foodstuff bought wholesale at the lowest possible prices in the rural areas (farms and plantations in the villages) to resell by retail in the urban areas (Bafoussam, Douala, Nkongsamba, Yaoundé, etc.)

[3]  Speech patterns of Cameroonians

[4]  An ethic group in Western Cameroon

 

Works cited

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Issues,” in Theo Hermans (ed.) Translating Others Volume 2. Manchester: St. Jerome

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Batchelor, Kathryn. Decolonizing Translation: Francophone African Texts in Translation.

London & New York:  Routledge, 2009.

Beti, Mongo. Mission terminée.  Paris: Corrêa, 1957.

______________.  Branle-bas en noir et blanc.  Paris: Julliard, 1999.

_______________. Trop de soleil tue l’amour. Paris: Julliard, 1999.

Bhabha, Homi K. The Location of Culture. London & New York: Routledge, 1994.

Bloom, B.S. Taxonomy of Educational Objectives: New York: David McKay Co. Inc., 1956.

Cohen, Andrew and Susan Weaver. Styles-and–Strategies-Based Instruction: A Teacher’s

Guide. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota, CARLA, 2006.

Flaubert, Gustave. Madame Bovary [1856] Paris: Garnier, 1971.

Fouda, Mercédès. Je parle camerounais: pour un renouveau francofaune. Paris: Karthala,

2001.

Gide, André. L’immoraliste. Paris: Mercure de France, 1902.

Kouega, Jean- Paul. 2003. “Word formative processes in Camfranglais.” World Englishes

              Kouega, Jean-Paul. Camfranglais: A Glossary of Common Words,               Phrases and Usages.

Muenchem: LINCOM EUROPA, 2013.

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Pronunciation, Grammar, and Vocabulary. Muenchem: LINCOM EUROPA,

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Fonkou, Kuitche, Gabriel. Moi taximan. Paris: L’Harmattan, 2001.

Fouda, Mercédès. Je parle camerounais: pour un renouveau francofaune. Paris: Karthala,

2001.

Gandanou, Albert. Le roman ouest-africain de langue française. Paris: Karthala, 2002.

Mehrez, Samia. “Translation and the Postcolonial Experience: The Francophone North

African Text,” in Lawrence Venuti (ed.) Rethinking Translation: Discourse,

Subjectivity, Ideology. London & New York:  Routledge (1992): 120-38.

Nganang, A. Patrice. Temps de chien: chronique animale.  Paris: Serpent à plumes, 2001.

_________________________. Dog Days: An Animal Chronicle. Trans. Amy Baram Reid.

Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2001.

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Oyono, Ferdinand. Le vieux nègre et la médaille. Paris: Julliard, 1956.

Robbe-Grillet, Alaine. La jalousie. Paris: Editions de Minuit, 1957.

Sarraute, Natalie. Planétarium. Paris: 1959.

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Writings. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998.

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 About the author

Professor Vakunta teaches French Linguistics and Francophone Literature at the University of Indianapolis where he served as Chair of the Department of Global Languages  and Cross-Cultural Cultures(2013-2018). He has under his belt several theoretical and fictional books and a sizeable number of articles in peer-reviewed journals.He also teaches for the Defense Language Institute headquartered in Monterey-California.

Exegesis, Jugglery, Cultural and Semantic Signification in Translating Camfranglais Literature

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

             

Professor Peter Wuteh Vakunta

Introduction

If up to a certain point, fiction writers have to re-invent language in a bid to appeal to a broader readership, the situation of Camfranglais writers is peculiar in that for them, French is not an acquisition; rather it is an occasion for constant mutation and modification. Engaged as they are, in the game of linguistic manipulation, these writers have to create their own language of fiction in a multilingual context affected by signs of polyglossia. To this end, Cameroonian Camfranglais creative writers constantly resort to code-switching as a mode of linguistic and cultural appropriation. Code-switching refers to the alternate use of more than one code in a single speech act,  a phenomenon that Haugan refers to as the “the alternate use of two languages, including everything from the introduction of a single unassimilated word up to a complete sentence or more into the context of another language” (cited in Omole, 58). In other words, these writers tend to transpose the imprint of their cultural backgrounds onto fictional works, thereby creating a third code—camfranglais. Camfranglais is a hybrid language spoken in the Republic of Cameroon where English, French and 248 indigenous languages co-exist. It is a medley of French, English, Pidgin and borrowings from local languages. Kouega (2003:13) defines Camfranglais as a “composite language consciously developed by secondary school pupils who have in common a number of linguistic codes, namely French, English and a few widespread indigenous languages.” Carole de  Feral (1989: 20) observes that Camfranglais saw the light of day in the 1970s when youths in Douala indulged in a language  practice she refers to as ‘Français Makro’[1] Some examples of Camfranglais expressions that one is likely to hear in the streets in French-speaking Cameroonian cities such as Yaoundé, Douala, Bafoussam, Nkongsamba and more include:

Depuis le matin j’ai seulement chop une banane= I have only eaten a banana since morning.

Gars je go damba= I am going to play soccer, man.

Mon cochambrier a travel au day= my room-mate has traveled today.

C’est moi qui comot avec la nga-ci= I am going out with this girl.

La nkane-ci est trop coller chewing gum=This girl has a gumshoe attitude.

Je suis dans le débé, je n’ai plus da do= I am in dire straits, I have no money left.

Je dois go regarder le damba= I have to go watch a soccer game.

La damer de la mater est très mo= Mom’s food is very delicious.

Il a décalé avec mes do= He took off with my money.

Tu as nang où yesterday? =Where did you pass the night yesterday?

Tu vas go au sukul au day?=Are you going to school today?

It is noteworthy that the insertion of  Camerounismes[2] such as”chop”, “débé”,  “damba”,  “au day”, “damer”, “do”, “sukul”, “nga”, “mo”, “nkane” and “commot” in a French language text may  obfuscate meaning for a translator unfamiliar with the significations embedded in these words that originate from  Cameroonian indigenous languages and  pidgin English. It is obvious from these examples that the sentence structure of Camfranglais is calqued on the French syntactic structure, supported by loanwords from native tongues. Each utterance above contains at least one English, Pidgin or indigenous language word. This paper addresses some of the translation challenges posed by language mixing as seen in the examples above. Rather than dwell on theories of translation, our paper seeks to bring new insights to the pragmatics of literary translation—ways in which the translator grapples with meaning discernment and rendition when faced with the task of translating texts couched in more than one language. Jacques Derrida (1985:171) reminds us in “Des Tours de Babel” of “one of the limits of theories of translation: all too often they treat the passing from one language to another and do not sufficiently consider the possibility for languages to be implicated more than two in a text. How is a text written in several languages at a time to be translated? How is the effect of plurality to be ‘rendered’? And what of translating with several languages at a time, will that be called translating?”The dilemma is no easier to solve for practicing translators. There are clear and obvious benefits of linguistic hybridity (i.e. a larger audience, self-representation, etc.) but how do these benefits transform when these languages are contextualized in literature? And what are the ramifications of such complicity or variance for the literary translator? What forms of discursive agencies are made available through translation? Critics of postcolonial literatures often contend that because of the quintessential hybridity of the postcolonial text, it is not possible for writers to return to an absolute pre-colonial cultural purity, nor is it possible for these writers to write fiction that is entirely independent of implication in the colonial discourse (Ashcroft et al., 1989; Bandia 1993; Gyasi, 2006; Jameson, 1986; Khatibi, 1983; Quayson, 2000; Vakunta, 2014). This remark is pertinent to the premise of our discussion in this paper given the emphasis we place on linguistic pluralism.   Camfranglais writers tend to be perpetually adrift between several languages, vacillating from one to the other. Positioned on the threshold of ‘adversarial’ languages, Camfranglais literature opens up an in-between (third) space of linguistic ambivalence. In this vein, the writer becomes the bearer of a split consciousness and double vision.

The question that begs the asking is how the translator comes to terms with all these ramifications. This paper attempts to provide answers to the foregoing intriguing interrogations. To this end, a corpus of four Cameroonian texts written in Camfrangalis has been selected for critical analysis—Camfranglais (2013) by Jean-Paul Kouega, Temps de chien (2001) by Patrice Nganang; Moi taximan (2001) by Gabriel Fonkou and Je parle cameroonais (2001) by Mercédès Fouda.The finality of the literary analysis we have embarked upon would be to propose a canon that is deemed germane for the translation of fictional works written in Camfranglais.

Toward a Model for Translating Camfranglais

Camfranglais writers make a deliberate attempt to indigenize the messages they intend to convey through a process described by Zabus (1991:3) as “the writer’s attempt at textualizing linguistic differentiation and at conveying African concepts, thought-patterns, and linguistic features through the ex-colonizer’s language” as seen in the following excerpt: “Il y a la galère au Camer au day” (Kouega 2013, 155) [There is poverty in Cameroon nowadays][3]. It should be noted that the word ‘Camer’ is a truncation of the noun proper noun ‘Cameroon’. In a similar vein, the expression ‘au day’ is a hybrid word derived from a combination of the first syllable of the French word ‘aujourd’hui’ and  the second syllable of the English word ‘today’.  Thus, ‘au day’ is a neologism obtained by replacing the ‘jourd’hui’ segment of the word ‘aujourd’hui’ with the English word ‘day.’ ‘Galère’ is a French word that generically signifies ‘hassle’ or ‘trouble.’ However, in the speech of Camfranglones, this word has undergone a semantic shift and has taken on a new signification— ‘abject poverty’. Semantic shifts such as this one could make the job of the translator an uphill task, especially for translators who are not familiar with the linguistic appropriation process that takes place in the art of creative writing in Cameroon as seen in the following statement: “Ma friend se call Suzy, elle me helep bad” (Kouega: 154) [My friend’s name is Suzie; she helps me a lot]. It is interesting to note that the English adjective ‘bad’ carries a positive undertone in the speech pattern of speakers of Camfranglais: ‘helep bad’ could be rendered as ‘helps me a lot.’  This oxymoronic construction could be mistranslated literally as ‘helps me badly” by an inattentive literary translator. Doing so would clearly derail the communicative intent of the fiction writer, an aspect of discourse analysis that   André Lefevere (1992:87) describes as the author’s “universe of discourse”. He further notes that on the universe-of-discourse level, translators may be faced with things, customs, and concepts that were immediately intelligible to the readers of the original but are no longer intelligible to prospective readers of the translation. It should be noted that the Pidgin English word ‘helep’ in the example above is derived from the Standard English word ‘help.’

Camfranglais lexicon has been abundantly enriched by borrowings from Cameroon Pidgin English, also called Cameroonian Creole. Borrowings from Pidgin are evident in the following excerpt: “Elle do the buyam-sellam depuis quand?”(Kouega:152). How long has she been doing buyam-sellam?] The compound word ‘buyam-sellam’ is derived from two Standard English words ‘buy’ and ‘sell.’ This neologism, the brainchild of Camfranglais speakers, is often used to describe a man or woman who retails foodstuff in the farmers’ market. It goes without saying that retail trade has contributed significantly to the broadening of the lexicon of Camfranglais as seen in this example: “J’ai des aff à placer” [I have some items to sell] (Kouega: 122). More often than not, the task of the Camfranglais translator becomes onerous not only on account of loanwords from other languages such as “aff” and “do” as seen in the examples above but also due to the fact new semantic values are constantly being appended to existing words. Notice that the word ‘aff’ is derived through the process of clipping. ‘Aff’ is a truncation of the French word ‘affaires’ which could literally be rendered as ‘affairs’ or ‘business’. However, translating the word ‘aff’ literally would be tantamount to an undertranslation because “aff” refers to ‘stolen goods’ in the Camfranglais universe of discourse.

Oftentimes, speakers of Camfranglais resort to code-mixing out of the desire to create humor as is noticeable in the following statement: “Il est tellement pressé qu’il a put son calékoum à l’envers (Kouega: 154) [He is in such a hurry that he has worn his underwear inside out.]The word ‘calékoum’ is a camerounisme for the French word ‘caleçon’ [pant or underwear].  The code switching in this statement is evident. We have the standard English word ‘put’, and the Pigin word ‘calékoum’ jostling for space with standard French words. Omole (1998) maintains that this linguistic mixing presupposes a degree of proficiency at two or more languages from which a speaker or writer can switch back and forth seamlessly. These examples bear testimony to the fact that Camfranglais speakers tend to rely on code alternation as a word formative process as this other example seems to suggest: “Ma rese a tcha le bele et elle talk que c’est avec un attaquant” (Kouega 2003: 129) [My sister is pregnant and she says that the man responsible is a taxi driver assistant]. Notice that the French word ‘attaquant’ is a standard French language word that could be translated literally as ‘assailant’ or ‘attacker.’ However, doing so would misrepresent the speaker’s communicative intention because in this context the word has been endowed with an entirely new signification, ‘taxi driver assistant.’ Kouega (2003:138) defines the word ‘bele’ as “unwanted pregnancy”. The word ‘tcha’ is a Pidgin English word that could be rendered as “catch”; in this context catch a pregnancy as Cameroonians would have it. In other words, become pregnant.  These examples lend credibility to the assertion according to which the task of the Camfranglais translator is not a sinecure, the more so because word-play has become the hallmark of Camfranglais speech pattern as the following statement suggests: “Le djo-là est fini: sa nga a tcha le bele et elle veut qu’ils move ça et il n’a pas le do” (Kouega 2003: 138-9) [The boy over there is in trouble: his girlfriend is pregnant and she wants them to remove the foetus but he does not have any money.] Many borrowed lexical items are identifiable in this statement: ‘djo’ is culled from one of the vernacular languages spoken in Cameroon. It refers to ‘man’, friend’ or ‘partner.’  ‘Tcha’ has other semantic equivalents: ‘catch someone red-handed,’ ‘arrest someone,’ ‘hold,’ and ‘take someone along with force’ (Kouega 2013: 158). The word ‘do’ refers to ‘money’ as used in the following excerpt:  “Il m’a give les do que je lui ai ask hier (Kouega 2013: 181) [He gave me the money I asked for yesterday]. Notice that some words are spelled variably in Camfranglais. The word ‘give’, for instance, is sometimes written as ‘gif’, ‘gib’, ‘gip’, or ‘gi’ (Kouega 2013: 197). This orthographical variance harbors bottlenecks for the unwary translator.  Worse still, these heteronyms carry the germ of ambiguity for translators who have not mastered the rudiments of Camfranglais speech patterns. These examples lend credibility to the postulation according to which polysemy is part and parcel of Camfranglais semantics as the following example suggests:  Je suffer ici trop; better je go” (Kouega 2013: 140) [I suffer a lot here; I would rather leave]. It is interesting to note that the word ‘better’ in this statement has a negative undertone as opposed to  the signification of the same word in the following statement: “J’étais un peu sick, mais ça va better” ( Kouega 2013: 140) [I was a little sick but I am feeling better.]

It is important to underscore the fact that this mode of writing is not an indication of the fiction writer’s inability to write proper French. On the contrary, it is a deliberate quest for self-identity as ex-colonized writers endeavors to decolonize postcolonial literatures. As Ashcroft et al. (1989:2) would have it,

 What each of these literatures has in common beyond their special and distinctive regional characteristics is that they emerge in their present form out of the experience of colonization and the tension with the imperial power, and by emphasizing their differences from the assumptions of the imperial centre. It is this that makes them distinctively postcolonial.

 A critical reading of Kouega’s text lends itself to the contention according to which the African palimpsest is at work in the creative writing a process, a phenomenon described by Zabus (1991:101) as the African writer’s “attempts to simulate the character of African speech in a Europhone text…” Thus, the translator of Kouega’s text is invited to uncover the cultural layers and contesting indigenous languages in ferment behind the apparently homogeneous French language.  To paraphrase Ashcroft et al. again (1989:2), language appropriation is deliberate and emerges in its present form “out of the experience of colonization and the tension with the imperial power… In other words, the ex-colonized writer tends to turn the reality of colonial history on its head by writing back to the imperial center from the empire. This transpires when indigenous peoples begin to write their own histories using the ex-colonizer’s language. Linguistic appropriation permeates all facets of Camfranglais fictional writing including the sex industry.

This industry has endowed Camfranglais speakers with a gamut of words which may have implications for faithful literary translation as seen in the following excerpt: “J’ai tchouké la nga-là mais je n’ai pas bien hia moh” (Kouega 2013: 297) [I have screwed that girl but I did not enjoy it] (Kouega 2013:297). ‘Tchouké’ comes from the verbal infinitive ‘tchouker’ which could be translated literally as as ‘to fix in position using a wedge’. Rendering the sentence above as “I have fixed that girl in position using a wedge” would be a blooper! The lexeme ‘hia,’ derives from the Standard English word ‘hear.’ In this context, it conveys the idea of ‘have a feeling.’  The contextual usage of these words may not be obvious to a translator unaccustomed to the semantic jugglery that is the hallmark of Camfranglais, thus amplifying the likelihood of undertranslation or outright mistranslation. ‘Hia moh’ is used in Kouega’s text to convey the notion of ‘having a good feeling’. Hence, ‘moh’ is synonymous with the Standard English word ’satisfaction’ or ‘enjoyment’. Another synonym for ‘tchouker’ used in Kouega’s text is ‘comb’ as in: “Toi aussi. How tu comb une ngo trois time en un seul day.Tu es became un coq? (Kouega 2013: 166) [You too. How come you make love with a girl three times in a single day? Have you become a cock?] By resorting to different domesticating strategies—codeswitching, semantic shift, compounding, truncation, clipping and reduplication among others Kouega creates a hybrid text that demands of readers to be not just bilingual but also bicultural. A problematizing of translation theory and practice is central to our reading of the works of Fouda, Fonkou, and Nganang.

In his text titled Temps de chien: chronique animale (2001), translated into English as Dog Days (2006:105) Nganang resorts to the device of language mixing for a myriad of reasons but the rationale he, himself, provides reads as follows:

La rue a une avance singulière tant sur les journalistes que sur les écrivains. Ce roman essaie de se mettre à l’école de la rue.… L’imagination et l’oralité des rues a fabriqué ces personages qui existent et que j’ai mis dans mon roman.

[The street exerts a unique pull both on journalists and writers. This novel attempts to depict the street school….The imagination and orality of the street have produced the characters that exist and have been inserted them into my novel.]

In his attempt to translate the speech patterns of indigenous populations in Cameroon, Nganang switches codes constantly. Code switching enables him to transpose the imagination, worldview and mannerisms of Cameroonians into standard French as seen in the following excerpt: “Ma woman no fit chasser me for ma long dis-donc! Après tout, ma long na ma long!”(Nganang 2001:80)[My woman no fit chasser me for ma long, dis donc! Après tout, ma long na ma long!]( Nganang 2006:54) The translator resorted to a calque as a translation canon in the passage above. Jones (1997:53) defines the term ‘calque’ as “a copy of an original. It is the borrowing of a foreign word or group of words by the literal translation of its components”. The translator of Nganang’s excerpt did a laudable job of providing an explicatory note in the glossary to shed light on the signification of the statement as follows: “My woman can’t throw me out of my house, I tell you! After all, my house is my house!”( Nganang 2006:208) It unclear why the translator resorted to a paratext as a translation device. Nonetheless, there is no question that the reader of the target text would be deprived of the communicative intent of the novelist had there been no glossary at all. Notice that the word “long” changes grammatical category from adjective to noun in Camfranglais discourse. The style of writing is labeled ‘transposition,’ a term that Jones (2014) defines as “a translation device which involves a change between grammatical categories, notably nouns, verbs, adjectives, adverbs and prepositions, from the S.L. to the T.L” (77). In Nganang’s text, the word ‘long functions as a noun that refers to the speaker’s ‘home’ or ‘residence’. The word ‘ma’ is a possessive pronoun that the translator renders as ‘my’.

The foregoing examples indicate that Nganang’s writing style is particularly challenging for translators. More often than not, the translator has to resort to the technique of exegesis in a bid to surmount seemingly insuperable obstaclces as seen in the following excerpt: “La voix d’un lycéen lui disait: comme d’habitude, Mama Mado. Et ma maîtresse connaissait son goût. La voix d’un autre exigeait, put oya soté, for jazz must do sous-marin.” (Nganang 2001:84)[A student’s voice would say: the usual, Mama Mado, and my mistress knew just what he wanted. Another’s voice would order, put oya soté, for jazz must do sous-marin.](Nganang 2006: 57) Clearly, this passage would constitute a stumbling block for many a translator. The term “oya” is a Pidgin English word for “oil,” in this case oil used in cooking. “Jazz” is a slang word for ‘beans.’ Kouega (2013:210) defines jazz as “cooked beans usually eaten with ‘beignets’ at the ‘beigetariat’”. Cameroonians use the term ‘jazz’ to describe the trumpet-like sound that one’s stomach would make if one ate  a lot of beans, or beans that has been poorly prepared. The expression “jazz sous-marin” could be translated as “beans submerged in oil.” The sentence above could better be translated into English as: “A student’s voice would say: as usual, Mama Mado, and my mistress knew just what he wanted. Another’s voice would order: put enough oil so that the jazz look like submarines.”[4] The lexeme ‘submarines’ refers to beans floating on oil.

As if to make the job of the translator even harder,  Nganang’sTemps de chien is replete with expressions culled from pidgin English as the following example illustrates: “Et mon maître lui, se retranchant dans son pidgin de crise, tout en déchirant sur son visage un bleu: Dan sapak i day kan-kan-o.” (Nganang 2001:52)[As for my master, he’d fall back into pidgin, his dialect of disaster, cursing the whores as he tore his face into a sick smile:  ‘Dan sapak i day for kan-kan-o.](Nganang 2006, 35) The code mixing evident in this excerpt is an indication of Nganang’s acknowledgement of the fact that as a writer nurtured in a multilingual context, he is straddling multiple linguistic spheres. Consequently, he spices his text with expressions culled from all the communicative crucibles that constitute his creative fount in a bid to make his diction respond realistically to the plurality of codes in which he writes. It should be noted that the word ‘sapak’ is an indigenous language term for ‘whore’. The expression ‘kan-kan’, culled from Pidgin English could be translated as ‘a variety of’.  The word ‘day’ also derived from Pidgin English translates the Standard English adverb of location, ‘there.’ The word ‘dan’ is the pidginized form of the demonstrative adjective ‘that’. In Temps de chien, recourse to Pidgin English is not to be perceived as an indication of the character’s illiteracy or inability to communicate effectively in standard French. Oftentimes, Nganang’s characters choose to communicate in pidgin French also called Camfranglais simply as a sign of group solidarity or phatic communion. Echu (2006:1) observes that the “pidginization processes operational in the two varieties clearly illustrate the relationship between language contact and cultural dynamism, the two speech forms being an expression of the culture of the highly multicultural Cameroonian setting” Given that Nganang’s text is deeply embedded in the cultural matrices in which it was conceived the mono-cultural translator would struggle with semantic decipherment.

Some pidginized expressions in Temps de chien harbor sexual innuendos, as the following excerpt seems to suggest: “Quand elle avait disparu au loin, mon maître disait rêveur: Dan tendaison for dan woman na big big hein?”(Nganang 2001:69)[When she has disappeared in the distance, my master would say, still dreaming of her ample behind: Dan tendaison for dan woman na big big huh?]( Nganang 2006:47).  Notice that once again the translator has opted for a calque as a translation strategy for the second sentence in this excerpt. That is probably because there are there several codes enmeshed in this single utterance:  standard French, Standard English, and Pidgin. The reduplication of the word “big” translates the notion of ‘extremity’ in the discourse of Camanglophones.  Echu (2006:8) posits: “Camfranglais utterances are strongly marked by reduplication, which is the repetition of morphological and lexical elements within an utterance”. He further notes that such repetitions emphasize the intensity or duration of an action; express augmentative and diminutive values, or simply constitute an inherent feature of one of the indigenous contact languages. To drive the point home, Echu provides the following examples: doucement doucement (very slowly or very gently), nayor nayor (very slowly or very gently), penya penya (brand new or in very good state), beaucoup beaucoup (in great quantity), un peu un peu (very little or in very small quantity), depuis depuis (a very long time ago), nyama nyama (very small; of little significance or value).

The word “tendaison” used in the excerpt above is the Pidgin word for “buttocks.” In this passage, Mini Minor’s buttocks are depicted as elephantine. The sentence could be translated as: “When she had disappeared in the distance, my master would say, still dreaming of her ample behind: That woman has extremely big buttocks, huh?” It should be noted that the translator drew a blank when it came to translating the last segment of this utterance: “Dan tendaison for dan woman na big big huh?” With the exception of the word ‘hein’ which she rendered as ‘huh’, the utterance was simply transposed into the target text, thus leaving the target language reader in a quandary. A similar translation anomaly is noticeable in the translator’s abortive attempt to render the following excerpt:

Femme, avait-il dit, tu n’as pas entendu ce qu’on raconte? Les voleurs ont déjà la potion pour se rendre invisibles ici dehors. N’est-ce pas hier ils sont entrés dans le salon de Massa Kokari et ont emporté sa télévision sous son nez? A di tell you! (50)

[Woman, he said, haven’t you heard what people are saying? Thieves already have a potion that makes them invisible out there. Don’t you know that yesterday they went into Massa Kokari’s living room and took his television right from under his nose? A di tell you!] (Dog Days, 34).

The emphatic Pidgin English expression, “A di tell you!” could be translated as: “Take it from me!” Instead, the translator opted for a calque. Generally speaking, Cameroonians employ an expression like this in a bid to dispel doubt, especially when they sense disbelief on the part of the interlocutor. The word “massa” is the pidginized equivalent of the Standard English word “Mr.”or “Master”. These expressions are germane in Nganang’s text given they speak to the polyglossia that characterizes fictional writing in Camfranglais. Each linguistic variety invokes a specific type of discourse that is in synchrony with the social stratus of the speaker. The style in which Temps de chien is written amounts to a wedding of a European language—in our case French, with indigenous languages. This mode of writing is not the preserve of Nganang.

In her novel titled Je parle camerounais: pour un revouveau francofaune (2001:36), Mercédès Fouda follows in the footsteps of her compatriot by jettisoning the yoke of linguistic imperialism through the process of indigenization of language as seen in the following excerpt:

Le gombo, c’est ce petit job périodique et sporadique dont les revenus disparaissent aussi rapidement que son homonyme, plante mucilagineuse dont on fait les sauces, et qui, surtout cuisinée avec du couscous, descend à toute vitesse dans la gorge.

[Gombo is this menial job that one gets occasionally whose revenue disappears as rapidly as its floral homonym, plant used in making soup which descends with ease down the gullet, especially when eaten with fufu.]

It should be noted that the term ‘gombo’ refers to ‘okra’. However, in this context it is used as an equivalent of the English language word ‘windfall’. The task of the translator in instances like these resides in distinguishing the literal from the figurative usage of terms and expressions.Fouda constantly shifts meaning for the purpose of transcribing the speech patterns of Cameroonians into French as this example illustrates: “Ces temps derniers les jeunes talents se sont vus affubler des substantives “yo” et “yoyettes,”surtout s’ils se sont branchés comme des fils électriques, avec pantalons en tire-bouchon…” (Fouda 2001: 62) [Lately, these youngsters have gotten into the habit of referring to each other as “yo”and “yoyettes”, especially when they are dressed to the nines and look like electric poles.] The standard French words ‘jeune’ and ‘talent’ have been endowed with entirely new significations, especially when coupled as is the case in this context. It is worth mentioning that words such as “yo” and “yoyettes” are culled from Cameroonian indigenous languages. Both words describe young boys and girls that are smartly dressed. Kouega (2013:319) provides the following definition for the term ‘yo’: “a lad; a young boy that dresses well” ( Kouega 2013: 319). For ‘yoyette’ he provides this definition“a young lady, a young girl that dresses well”. Kouega provides the following example to shed more light: “La yoyette-là a put une belle dress au day” [That young lady is wearing a very beautiful dress today.] Unfamiliarity with the etymology of these words may render the task of the translator painstaking. The  linguistic  indigenization  process that transpires in Je parle camerounais has the potential of making the text hard to translate by a non-Cameroonian translator on account of the cultural specificity of the lexical items chosen by the writer. The language manipulation that takes place in Fouda’s narrative speaks volumes about the author’s conscious attempt to translate orality into the written word; to domesticate the French language for the purpose of expressing an indigenous worldview and self-identity. In this vein, literary scholar, Ojo-Ade (1986:295), makes the following pertinent remarks:

On the whole, one may safely say that the dual culture of the African writer (the native culture he is writing about and the European culture he has imbibed) makes him first and foremost a translator before being a creative artist.

One may deduce from Ojo-Ade’s remarks that the translation of indigenous imagination and cultural relativity into European languages remains a salient feature of Camfranglais literature. Thinking along similar lines, Gyasi (1999:151) posits that contemporary fictional writing in Francophone Africa is “a creative translation process that leads to the production of a …text in French and the development of an authentic African discourse.” All too often, Fouda spices her text with expressions that reflect the Cameroonian discourse, a trope that defies comprehensibility by translators who do not belong in the closed circle of Camfranglais speakers as seen in the following passage: “Si depuis belle lurette vous vous démenez de-ci de-là sans trouver aucune occasion à saisir sur le plan matériel, vous pourrez toujours vous plaindre que le dehors est dur…” (Fouda 2001:5). [If you have been searching here and there in vain for a job to make ends meet, you could always complain that times are hard.] “Le dehors est dur” is a Cameroonianism[5] that translates the idea that times are hard. There is no denying the fact that an understanding of the contextual usage of Cameroonianisms employed in Fouda’s Je parle camerounais would serve to enlarge the translators’ comprehension of the text and make it more accessible than it would be if they were to know nothing of the circumstances surrounding the creation of the text. Fonkou’s Moi taximan (2001) harbors similar hurdles.

Moi taximan seems to defy comprehension on account of code-mixing and the Africanization of French language as the following sentence shows:

J’avais remarqué dès les premiers jours que certains collègues clandos ne s’arrêtaient pas aux barrières de contrôle, ou que quand ils s’y arrêtaient, c’était pour échanger avec les contrôleurs des plaisanteries puis repartir sans avoir servi ni le café ni la bière. (Foukou: 2001:12)

[I had noticed from the onset that some clando colleagues never stopped at the police checkpoint, or only stopped there to crack jokes with the controllers and leave without serving coffee or beer].

Fonkou’s recourse to the word ‘clando’ could pose comprehension problems for the translator.  Kouega (2013:164) defines ‘clando’ as “a private car illegally used as a taxi.” ‘Clando’ also refers to a taxi driven by a driver who does not possess the legal documentation that grants him or her right to drive a taxi. Sometimes, Cameroonians use the word ‘clando’ to describe a private car used to transport passengers illegally. ‘Clando’ derives from the word ‘clandestine’.

Like Fouda, Fonkou resorts to the technique of compounding in an attempt to acquaint his readers with the thought patterns of Camfranglais speakers: “Les premiers contacts avec les mange-mille et les gendarmes coûtent cher, mais par la suite, tout le monde se connaît  et il s’établit comme un contrat tacite”( Fonkou 2001:12). [The first encounters with the mange-mille and gendarmes often cost much, but with time, people get to know one another and a sort of tacit contract is established.] ‘Mange-mille’ is a Camfranglais derogatory term used in Cameroon to describe corrupt police officers who take bribe from commuters. The French used by Fonkou in this novel has been described as “le français langue africaine” [African French] by Mendzo Zé (1999).  Certain camfranglais lexical items are hard to decipher by a translator who is unaccustomed to the lexicon of this language. As Nstobé et al. (2008:90) would have it, “Il faut absolument connaître la signification de ces mots dans leurs contextes spécificiques” [You really have to know the meanings and contextual usage of these words.]  The difficulty stems from the fact that camfranglophones frequently borrow words and expressions from indigenous languages to embellish their parlance as this proverbial expression shows: “L’Enfant qui vit près de la chefferie ne craint pas le ‘mekwum’” ( Fonkou 2001:14). [The child who lives near the palace does not fear the ‘mekwum’] The word ‘mekwum’ is an indigenous language word that refers to a masked dancer belonging in a village secret society.[6] The following excerpt is rich in borrowings from vernacular languages spoken in Cameroon:

Dès que je me trouvais au milieu de cette foule ce furent d’interminables poignées de mains d’une vigueur à vous déséquilibrer, d’interminable ‘nge pin’, ‘a pon’, ‘a bha’a, toutes les expressions  de l’approbation et de la satisfaction( Fouda 2001:93)

[As soon as I found myself in this crowd, we shook hands incessantly and so vigorously that one could lose one’s equilibrium, endless ‘nge pin’, ‘a pon’, ‘a bha’a, expressions of approbation and satisfaction.]

The foregoing discourse analysis lends itself to two seminal conclusions. First, Camfranglais fictional works are not canonical texts; rather they belong in the category of peripheral ethnographic texts that require an interpretive approach to literary criticism. Second, in the light of the multilayered substratum from which Camfranglais literature derives its special qualities, translators need to have recourse to multidimensional frameworks in a bid to accomplish faithful translation—one such model, namely the Hermeneutic-Exegetic model is discussed below.

The Hermeneutic-Exegetic Translation Model

According to Anthony Pym (1995), Hermeneutics or the theory of interpretation was propounded by Friedrich Schleiermacher in his lecture titled “On the Different Methods of Translation”[7] delivered to the Royal Academy of Science on June 24, 1813. To paraphrase Pym, energetic, systematic, and fecund, Schleiermacher’ theory underscores the importance of interpreting, not just the latent (hidden) significations embedded in a literary text but also the situational dimensions that constitute the matrix in which the text was conceived.  This theorist further puts emphasis on the importance of the hermeneutic circle as an indispensable foothold in the exegetic interpretation of meanings embedded in the deep structure of the literary text. The hermeneutic circle supports and facilitates the critical analysis of the literary text by enabling the translator to come to grips with the fact that one’s understanding of a text is conditioned by a conscientious engagement with both the linguistic and extralinguistic elements that account for textual holism. Schleiermacher further observes that neither the whole text nor any individual components can be understood without reference to one another, and hence, the notion of a circle. The circularity inherent in hermeneutics lends its readily to usage in the translation of literature written in Camfranglais because these texts are sociological novels the complete meaning of which can only be unraveled by taking cognizance of their cultural, historical, temporal and spatial constituents.

The hermeneutic theory goes hand in hand with the theory of exegesis in translation studies because the science of interpretation is integral to the theory and practice of translation.  According to Margot (1975: 156) serious exegetical study of the source text is a prerequisite for producing a translation of high quality…” He further notes that translations are like women: if they are beautiful they are not faithful, if they are faithful they are not beautiful.  Exegesis is understood to mean a thorough analysis of the content of a text for translation purposes. Textual analysis is not limited to linguistic components; rather it englobes both verbal and non-verbal constituents of the source text. Exegesis entails the translator’s effort to unravel the significations embedded in the original text in its wider literary, historical, geographical and cultural contexts. In other words, the translator must constantly ask questions such as: What am I translating? For whom am I translating? Where and when am I translating? Why am I translating what am I translating? In doing so, translators must endeavor to rid themselves of shackles imposed by the quest for formal correspondence. The Hermeneutic- Exegetic translation model that we propose in this study is a sine qua non for success in translating literature written in less commonly taught languages such as Camfranglais because this sort of literature is culture-specific. The Hermeneutic- Exegetic paradigm is analogous to cultural adaptation, a translation mode that enables the translator to comprehend the nuanced cultural significations of the source text. Steiner (1975:318) observes that the hermeneutic-exegetic approach to translation sees the relationship between translation and translator as an act of interpretation. As he puts it, “the translator-interpreter creates a condition of significant exchange.” Hermeneutics deals with the ways in which the translator discovers meaning embedded in the situational dimensions of the source text. Viewed from this perspective, Hermeneutics is a kind of discernment process; ways of mining the holistic meaning, as it were. On the other hand, exegesis is a method of attempting to understand a text. The exegete studies the lexical meanings and grammar of the source text in order to discern that which the author intended to convey.  Exegesis entails applying various rules of interpretation to a given text in a bid to expound and reveal the essence of its message(s). In the Hermeneutic-Exegetic translation process, the translator strives to understand what led to the writing of the text, and what circumstances prevailed during the author’s time of writing. In sum, the Hermeneutic-Exegetic process is inductive. Induction involves three processes, namely observation, interpretation and application.

Conclusion

This paper provides readers with information on the plethora of modes of writing Camfranglais literature. It is also a call to translators of Camfranglais literature to reflect on the nature of texts and translate for different readerships, and to propose paradigms suitable for translating such literature. It is critical for translators of Camfranglais literature to be conversant with evolutionary trends inherent in the theory and practice of translating such literature. A mastery of French language alone does not suffice to do justice to the translation of the novels discussed in the examples discussed in this chapter. Translators of Camfranglais literature cannot but be like the texts they translate—at once multilingual and multicultural. Given the polytonality and multilingual composition of Camfranglais literary texts, translators must conceive appropriate models suitable for translating these texts. A multifaceted framework of translation rendition is useful and imperative.

 

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NOTES

[1] Makro is a popular Cameroonian derogatory word that means “thief” , “crook” or “rascal”( Kamdem,2015)

[2]  Cameroonian turns of phrase

[3]  All translations are mine except otherwise indicated

[4]  My translation

[5]  Speech patterns and  discursive mannerism typical of Cameroonians 

[6] Occultist group

[7] Das Problem des Übersetzens, edited by Hans Joachim Störig (Darmstadt, 1963), pp. 38-70. 2.

Anatomy of African Bush-fallers

                   

 

By

Professor Peter Wuteh Vakunta

INTRODUCTION

 Who is a bush-faller? In Standard English, the term ‘bush-faller’ refers to a person who fells or cuts down trees in the bush for timber. In Cameroonian Pidgin English and Camfranglaish, this term harbors an entirely different connotation. Kouega (2007) defines ‘bush-faller’ as “someone who chooses to leave his country in search of a greener pasture elsewhere.”(91)He further defines ‘bush-falling’ as voluntary expatriation, which may be a case of brain-drain or labor force drain.”(91) In Cameroon, bush-fallers are associated with some acquired attributes: wealth, erudition, uppity mentality and most importantly cultural bastardy. This explains why they are often associated with concepts such as ‘de-identification’, ‘anonymization’ and ‘deculturation’. Oftentimes, the term ‘de-identification’ involves the removal of personally identifiable information in order to protect personal privacy. Other instances of de-identification involve the intentional obliteration of unique identifiers for individuals in a data set. In the health arena, de-identified information describes data that does not identify an individual, with respect to which there is no reasonable basis to believe that the information could be used to identify an individual (Hubbard, 2007). Anonymization, on the other hand, is a term that describes the act or process of making something anonymous, of hiding or disguising identity as a security precaution. Finally, deculturation is the term used to describe the process of divesting an ethnic group, tribe or people of their indigenous traits. More often than not, this term is employed to portray cultural loss or erosion.

In this paper, we attempt to explore the psycho-sociological ramifications of bush-falling pertaining to African immigrants in general. There is no gainsaying the fact that physical estrangement from one’s cradle is a painful experience. More often than not, Africans leave their places of birth to resettle in other climes for a myriad of reasons. We will never fully comprehend the motivations underlying physical exile until we ask immigrants why each one of them emigrated to where they now reside. This notwithstanding, one could surmise that Africans who emigrate from Africa to Europe and North America tend to do so for two fundamental reasons: to obtain higher education and to avail themselves of economic opportunities that are non-existent at home. In the United States of America, it has been branded “living the American Dream”. In theory, the American dream is sweet but there is a painful flipside. In the Western media, Africa is synonymous with grinding poverty, devastating starvation, cohabitation with wild animals, communicable diseases, internecine wars, undisguised corruption, misgovernment, rape of democracy, and human rights abuses.  As American blogger, Kayla observes, “When you ask a child, "What does Africa look like?" I bet you every single child will respond with something like "skinny kids" or "jungles" because that is what they see of Africa on television. They don't see the big cities and cars and regular families like theirs” (Blog, 2010).Therefore,  it stands to reason that bush-fallers easily succumb to the temptation to turn their backs to their ‘dark’ continent in the pursuit of greener pastures in their dreamland, however illusory these pursuits may be.

Research indicates that a sizeable proportion of African immigrants living in the Diaspora find themselves in the throes of self-denial in their attempt to fit into the mainstream (Ngwa and Ngwa, 2006)—a phenomenon labeled the “diaspora dilemma” by Ozodi Thomas Osuji (2006). From the onset, most African immigrants experience physiological and psychological shock as the following statements made by an Ethiopian bush faller in Germany seem to suggest: “There are a lot of cultural differences that I have already observed: the way they dress; the way the people behave: smokers, small girls and boys kiss on the street, and so on; the way they treat people” (Ngwa and Ngwa, 2006: 94). Regardless of the nature of jobs they do, African immigrants soon learn that as far as white folks are concerned they are just immigrants, disposable people. Not many Africans are considered viable candidates for top-ranking jobs in the United States of America. The white man is very reluctant to allow an African with his heavy accent and other socio-cultural idiosyncrasies to rise to the top. Of course, there are always exceptions to every rule. There are, indeed, some well-placed Africans in North America. This notwithstanding, the irrefutable truth is that African immigrants are often targeted for acts of institutionalized racism and discrimination.

Whether they are citizens, refugees, asylum seekers or permanent residents, people of African origin often stand out among the principal targets of racism and xenophobia in many parts of Europe and North America. In Western Europe, citizens of African origin face ongoing discrimination and violence. In parts of Eastern Europe, immigrants of African origin are highly visible and often vulnerable targets of brutal racism and unfair discrimination. Racist and xenophobic prejudices indiscriminately victimize people regardless of their official citizenship or residency status. Human rights watchdog, Human Rights First notes that discrimination and racist violence against immigrant foreign nationals is generally both under-reported and under-recorded (2008).  It further states that in the United States, although the largest number of reported hate crimes continues to be committed against African-Americans, a dramatic rise in anti-immigrant violence accompanied a new mainstreaming of anti-immigrant rhetoric and fears [51]. The rising violence is reflected in media reporting and in the statistical data obtainable from annual national hate crime statistics.

Xenophobia accentuated by racist sentiments is so problematic that some creative writers have attempted to fictionalize it as seen in the following excerpt from Benjamin Kwakye’s latest novel, The Other Crucifix(2010): “The official stared at me and asked matter-of factly, ‘Where are you going, nigger?’” (7) The protagonist’s head-on collision with savage racism and the contradictions inherent in black and white polarity in America is portrayed as psychopathology. Kwakye’s novel is an illustration of the American Dream paradox—an openness belied by obscurantist make-believe.

The question that begs to be asked now is how bush-fallers react to provocative acts of marginalization and denigration in the Diaspora. All too often, African immigrants in the West suffer from mild psychological disorders because of the countless frustrations they face as they go about their daily business.  Pent-up emotions resulting from inability to obtain what is desired (cars, homes, jobs, money, you name it) have driven some immigrants into throwing tantrums at the slightest provocation; they rave and rant.  Quite a few resort to homicide as exemplified in this excerpt culled from a blog indicates:

Another middle class Nigerian American professional has once again killed his wife in cold blood. I say once again because it is apparently becoming the pastime of some faceless Nigerian men in the United States to latch unto every imaginable unreason to do their own wives unto death. A Nigerian American man in Texas woke up one day, decided to tie his wife with a long cattle rope to the back of their family car, and engaged an entire city’s police department in a street-by-street drag race. By the time, he was through all the roads and their stupefied spectatorship were left to bear witness to the battered body of a lifeless woman who was once a daughter, mother, sister, friend, and neighbor. Another man elsewhere tracked and trailed his wife on a rather bright day, ran her car off the expressway into a roadside valley and slugged her at the wheel directly with a pistol that was specially marked for the hunt. Yet another man in a different state stalked his wife all the way into their family bedroom where he trapped her, following an alleged long distance telephone conversation with her lover in Europe, and proceeded to rain machete blows of unforgettable bodywork – in the very lame tradition of failed artists – all over her face and arms. Until today, the survivor woman of that implosion carries her stump and sutures like throwback testimonials from the blood oil and diamond genocides of Biafra, Liberia, and Sierra Leone (Obiwu, 2010).

Others sink into profound taciturnity symptomatic of brewing storms. Occasionally, anger could be misplaced. This happens when the individual expresses anger at a person that is not responsible for his or her predicament. Some bush-fallers are known to vent their anger on spouses and children as seen in the passage above, thus making themselves liable to legal sanctions.

At this point, I would like to shift gears and discuss some less perceptible ways in which African immigrants react to discrimination and denigration in the diaspora. I will proceed by way of a medical analogy: getting rid of an abscess. An abscess refers to a tender mass of debris and pus that looks pink or deep red, and is easily pressed. Abscesses commonly grow around your armpits, anus, vagina, and bass of spinal column, tooth or groin. An abscess is caused by a blockage in the sebaceous glands or sweat glands, minor punctures of the skin, little breaks and inflammation of hair follicles. An inflammation arises once your body tries to fight the germs that penetrate into the glands. If you open an abscess, you will find bacteria, dead cells and other debris in it. Your abscess will start bothering you as it grows bigger every day. It will completely catch your attention, as the presence of tension under your skin can no longer be ignored. To get rid of an abscess, you have to go through inspection to determine if the cause of your abscess is a foreign object that needs to be removed. If the cause is not a foreign object, then your doctor will have to drain the abscess through incision.

I have used the symbolism of a malignant body portrayed as an abscess as an appropriate description of the malaise in which most African immigrants live in the United States of America and Europe. In an attempt to drain off their Afritude (quality of being African), bush-fallers have resorted to various gimmicks. Undeniably, the bush-faller’s abscess is his Africanness—the blackness that constitutes the cause of his very undoing in his Dreamland. Caught in the throes of psycho-pathological warfare bush-fallers often resort to self-repudiation as a stratagem to survive. The following succinct analysis should disambiguate the point raised above.

INDIGENOUS LANGUAGES

A great majority of Africans living in the Diaspora feel ashamed to speak their mother tongues. Consequently, they willfully trade off their indigenous languages for foreign tongues. To them, the language of the white man is the language of power; it is the language of science; the language of prestige and accomplishment. As far as these de-Africanized bush-fallers are concerned, African vernacular languages belong in the remote villages they have left behind. Children begotten in the Diaspora are admonished against speaking the vernacular languages of their parents, namely   Ngie Meukoh keh, Swazili, Igbo, Mungaka, Zulu, Medumba, Beti, Vengo, Nsei, and so on. If these kids desire to learn any of these African languages in order to meet college requirements, they will have to learn it at school, preferably from an American professor who learnt the language during one of his safari tours to Africa. This writer knows of a Kenyan couple living in America, both professors who speak Swazili fluently but will not condescend to teach their college-bound daughter their native language. The kid has to learn it in college from a White Swahili professor, because American Swahili is just a little superior to African Swahili, you know. I am acquainted with an Egyptian professor who teaches Arabic at my institution who will not teach her daughter Arabic at home. The poor kid is now taking Arabic classes taught by an American instructor at a community college. As you can see, African Arabic is no match with American Arabic. I see you shaking your head and asking yourself what is wrong with Africans?

FOOD AND NUTRITUTION

Our delicious African dishes—ero, ogwono, egusi, koki, ekwang, moin-moin, crayfish, dodo, puff-puff,  njama-njama, water–fufu, garri, and more have become anathema in the homes of some benighted bush-fallers in America and Europe, especially those who have gotten Western spouses. Henceforth, the African food they once ate with relish, no longer have space on their   westernized dining tables because, as you have rightly guessed, these dishes remind them of their ‘shithole’ countries to quite an erstwhile American President. Our white friends and spouses will shame us for eating stuff reserved for monkeys. I remember bringing some ero and water-fufu from home years ago for my friend who lives in Chicago. His parents had insisted that I take the precious parcel to their son who had not been home for twelve years. In the words of his mother, “let him eat this food and hear my smell in it.” This is a powerful statement in African cultures, especially if the food is coming from one’s biological parents. To my dismay, when I arrived at my friend’s home with the food items properly packaged, he shouted at the top of his voice: “Eh, eh! Massa, you wan kill me?  Ma sara nyango go divorce me if dis ting enter dis house. Massa, I don’t eat this stuff anymore. If ma titi put eye dei, yi go broke marred now now.”[Oh, oh! My friend, are you trying to kill me? My Caucasian wife will divorce me right away if this food gets into our house. I don’t eat this stuff anymore. If my wife sees it she will divorce me right away]. So much for cross-racial marriages!

CLOTHING AND ADORNMENT

Similarly, our traditional outfits—boubou, gandura, agwada, ndikong, dansiki, kabba ngondo, and more have become a painful source of embarrassment for us. The beautifully embroidered outfits we brought from Africa are gathering dust in our closets and boxes. If we wear them, we will be identified as primitive Africans. Heck! That does not bode well for our upward mobility in the white man’s world, you know. The cool thing to do is dress up in American blue jeans and collarless T-shirts 24/7. While in Rome do as the Romans do. Did you hear that?

ONOMASTICS

What is in a name? Did you hear that? There is everything in a name! This explains why the naming ceremony is not a mindless event in Africa.  We do not simply give names to our children. The names we give our kids are pregnant with meaning. In my village Bamunka, for example, names are communicative labels. For example, ‘Machishi’ means paragon of beauty; ‘Keyenyeng’ means ‘Wait and see’; ‘Wuteh’ translates the concept of being a ‘solitary person’, and ‘Nyibanda’ translated the notion of God’s unconditional love for all His creation. Sadly enough, some of us tend to substitute Western names for our African names. For instance, Mohammed Fofana becomes Jim Moore; Ngoran Fondufe metamorphoses into Jem Sparks; Leonie Kandem has been transformed into Kassandra Robertson; Mbionyi Tata now goes by David Jackson and so forth. These acts of disfigurement and self-denial perpetrated by bush-fallers are not fortuitous. They are calculated tricks to rid themselves of their African identity because these names constitute their most cumbersome source of embarrassment. The compulsive desire to deny oneself is part of the whitewashing scheme that Frantz Fanon denounces in his seminal work Black Skin, White Masks (1967).

CULTURAL ILLITERACY

In bygone times, Africans regarded cultural literacy as a life skill.  For instance, the beating of the traditional drum and other musical instruments was a skill passed down from generation to generation. As Burkinabe fiction writer, Nazi Boni, points out in his novel Crépuscule des temps anciens (1962):

Tout jeune homme devait savoir manier avec aisance plusieurs instruments de musique, particulièrement le tian-houn, le kondio, le kokoni, le win’za et toutes les variétés de konkoans ou trompettes. Le tiohoun communément appelé balafon, le donk
oho, minuscule tambourin de guerre à la taille de guêpe, le kere’nko, gigantesque donkolo, le kankan, tambour ventru, le ziri’nko, énorme kankan funéraire, constituaient—et constituent encore…des instruments réservés aux chanteurs et compositeurs traditionnels: les kakawa.(30-31)

[Every young man was expected to know how to play several musical instruments with expertise, especially the tian-houn, kondio, kokoni, win’za and all the varieties of the  konkoans or trompets. The tiohoun commonly called  balafon, donkoho, small war tambourin the size of a wasp, the kere’nko, gigantic donkolo, the kankan, hollow drum, ziri’nko, big funeral kankan constituted—and still constitute…instruments reserved for use by traditional composers and singers: the kakawa. ]

Nowadays, this cultural activity isregarded as decadent culture.Other aspects of our indigenous cultures have been subjected to the same torture. Kids no longer stand up to cede their seats to elders. They prefer to sit down while the older folks stand.  Wife no longer stoop to serve their husband. With the dollar, euro or pound in the wallet, spousal respect flies out the window! We no longer eat fufu, ero and njama- njama with our fingers. No! We insist on using forks! Being able to handle silverware correctly at table is a marker of evolution, you know. Never mind these primitive Chinese and Japanese who serve chop-sticks in their restaurants!

CONCLUSION

In sum, African bush-fallers are at a befuddled crossroads. Straddled between indigenous and Hellenistic cultures; confused by the allure of western materialism and African communalism and beset by multifarious messaging, the African living in the diaspora has metamorphosed into the status of a cultural bastard. Quite often, this de-identification results in anonymization, the highest stage of self-denial. African bush-fallers are not unique in this experience. Other minority groups in North America and Europe—Asians, Latinos, and more have, to a lesser extent, been subjected to similar psycho-sociological traumas. This is explicable by the fact when dominant and minority cultures co-exist, conflict arises. I have the conviction that the onus rests upon immigrants to look for less disfiguring ways and means to fight back acts of discrimination and denigration aimed at cowing them into subservience. They cannot afford to let their cultures sink into oblivion in order to please their hosts.

 

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Professor Peter Wuteh Vakunta teaches at the United States Department of Defense Language Institute, currently on detachment to Fort Bragg in North Carolina. Dr. Vakunta is author of numerous  books and articles in peer-reviewed journals: https://www.amazon.com/s?k=vakunta&i=stripbooks&ref=nb_sb_noss_1