Culture and Development in Bali Nyonga: Facing the New World Reality

By Victor N. Gomia, Ph.D

In a recent publication Jeffrey Sachs, World Bank economist and Harvard scholar, fiercely argues that underdevelopment is development out-side of culture. Sachs asserts that the estimated 3.2 trillion dollars disbursed by way of foreign aid to Africa over the last fifty years has failed to put Africa on the first rung of the global ladder of economic growth primarily because the West ignored the inherently diverse and close-knit cultures in the continent. This no-nonsense development expert charges that - tried, tested and seen to be effective in the West when regulated - free market models were parceled and transported for implementation in Africa in gross indifference to pre-existing indigenous models. What is garnered from Sachs’ aversion is the fact that for development to take roots at a micro or macro level, the targeted beneficiaries should have a robust cultural identity, and this vibrant cultural identity should inform development initiatives.

Nonetheless, there is an avalanche of literature out there on the relevance of culture in restoring a sense of confidence and the potential for self-reliance. What is, perhaps, an oversight in Sachs’ twist on this hopelessly bogged bottom-up development theory is the fact that culture, especially oriental culture in the advent of the new phase of imperialism that is euphemistically being branded ‘Globalization’, is not static; culture mutates, and in mutating it loses some of its basic traits. This globalization-induced cultural erosion comes with a price to many peoples, and the Bali Nyonga people of Cameroon’s North West Region are not an exception to this obstinate new world reality.

The perceived waning cultural traits of the Bali Nyonga people ignited conversations on www - Bali Cultural Association (BCA) USA e-group - earlier on this year. A subscriber posted a video footage of “Longueh”, one of the songs that verily tell of the uniqueness of the Bali Nyonga people. Subscribers who are versed with earlier versions of the tune were quick to pinpoint the dilution that has taken place on the lyrics of the song over time. The language and the rhythm, they argue, were something akin to a hybrid of Western and local colorations. The strong sense of nostalgia expressed in recurrent phrases like “when Longueh was Longueh” was palpable in that discussion thread. This nostalgically-drenched tirade came at the heels of another raging debate on the question as to why women are not allowed membership in “Ndahngweh”, a historically male-only coterie. One female subscriber argued that while she would not question the tradition of her people (a tradition she holds very closely to her heart), she remains a “fiercely independent woman”. In an intriguing twist of irony, the socialization process that gave birth to institutions like “Ndangweh” in the Fondom  would not tolerate, let alone accommodate, a “fiercely independent woman” for one second. The “longueh” and “Ndangweih” threads on the e-group would neatly pass for a body of paradigmatic specimen of the struggle we are inadvertently (and on the most part imperceptibly) facing in the train of the new world reality whose pace and bearing we have very little control over.

Decrying the waning of these values puts one at a crossroads akin to the proverbial eating of one's cake and having it. It is a tricky line to draw as one is likely to be seen as diving headlong into a pool of contradictions. For what do we expect in a setting where globally-driven cash economy and the salutary concept of democracy are increasingly en vogue? A few examples of the impact of these politico-economic currents within the Fondom suffice: In the Bali Nyonga Fondom today one would seldom find a “mu-nyonga”  coming back with pride from Ntanko'o  earlier than he should have because his jug of wine he was taking to the market has been seized by the 'Mupuhs' and/or “Gweis” and taken to the palace for the entertainment of His Majesty's ever-soaring number of guests. It was a pride to have one's wine seized and taken to the palace. Such a 'lucky' Bali man would drum-beat and chest-pound at Ntanfoang  and beyond for tapping the very best by virtue of its having attracted the attention of the palace. He would be a source of reference, especially amongst his peers in the Fondom. Today few, if any, 'Mupuh' or “Gwei” would dare the risk associated with that practice. Even if there were to be one, there would hardly be a would-be proud ‘Mu-nyonga’ who is prepared to willy-nilly forego the wine for the palace. I also recall the enthusiasm and vigor that used to characterize "Fa’- Mfon" . One would curse him or herself and even consult a necromancer to unravel the cause of the 'curse' if he or she were to take ill during the week his or her neighborhood was to go out for "Fa’ Mfon". There was this strong sense of moral obligation associated with offering one’s services to the palace that to not get engaged when it was one’s turn was an anathema. Again, while growing up in Naka (the gate-way village linking the Fondom and the more metropolitan Bamenda) circa 1980, I used to live this mixed emotion of respect, reverence and wonder inspired by the authority of the palace; the awe that surrounded the crown of the Fondom was very evident. Each time this white Peugeot 504 (matriculated NW 444 I) drove-passed women standing-by would stoop and ululate for His Majesty while men would curtsy. Occasionally, the driver would be the only one in the car, but a mere site of His Majesty’s car triggered spontaneous feeling of profound awe and respect for the crown, an institution that is the epitome of the culture that we want to rightfully preserve jealously. Not having been home long enough to observe how much of this practice still exists, I would conjecture that it has worn out considerably. One could go on with these sign posts of dissipating core values; the bottom line is that there is very little, if anything, we can do about it at a time when cash has continued to forcefully assert itself as our basic economic mantra.

Whereas it is easy to apportion responsibility for this to individuals and institutions, this mind-boggling reality is far from being simplistic. We justifiably want to preserve our core values, but most aspects of these values are anti-thetical to salutary facets of democracy, a concept whose re-animation in recent years in the Fondom (like other Fondoms) has threatened the people’s unity. It should not take too much for one to realize that we want to eat our cake and have it. Lela  offers one of the avenues to strengthen our faith in our values, the unavoidable dissipation notwithstanding. It is in events like Lela that we come to terms with the paramouncy of the pride and dignity of the Bali mind, a paramouncy that is reflected in the steadfastness of His Majesty, Dr. Doh Ganyonga III, on issues pertaining to Bali-Nyonga core values. These admirable attributes are unchanging, but in a sense, they are almost always changing as the Bali mind draws from the past, dynamizes the present and gauges into the future with unbridled fortitude. In the cultural re-animation lived in Lela and its likes, the collective sense of being is rejuvenated; the sense of belonging is renewed; we are re-energized, and even at the backdrop of the unavoidable tainting, our thus rekindled and curdled culture becomes the fertile ground Jeffrey Sachs opines is the point of departure in feasible development initiatives.

Notes

[1] This is a traditional area of jurisdiction headed by a traditional ruler called Fon in Cameroon’s North West Region. The region has five major Fondoms, and Bali Nyonga was the first to receive and pay host to the first European explorer (Germany’s Dr. Eugene Zingraff) in 1884 in the grassland area of Cameroon. Germany’s relics exist in Bali till date.

[1]  This is a noun in Mungaka (language spoken by the Bali Nyonga people) for “Bali man” ; it means “a man from Bali”. An essentially male chauvinistic setting, the expression’s female counterpart (mungwi-nyonga) is almost always silent. Suffice to state that in a compelling twist of irony, the fondom was founded by a woman, Nahnyonga.

[1] This refers to the main market place in Bali Nyonga. Situated within the central area of Bali, the market place only opens once in the Bali Nyonga’s eight-day-week. According to the seven-day calendar week (Monday through Sunday), the market place opens every other week day. A traditional market-day in Bali is essentially a traditional holiday, for the people are not expected to go to the farm or engage in any regular professional work.

[1] These are essentially palace messengers who run errands for the fon. In a distant past they were fully in charge of maintaining law and order under the authority of the fon..

[1] This is a sort of down-town Bali Nyonga.  This setting is a busy hub where people converge to share drinks or food in clubs or relax with their peers.

[1] This is the service offered to the palace for its upkeep. Each quarter or neigbourhood in Bali would take turns seasonally to work in the fon’s farms. The fon had the largest farms, and his subjects were in charge of cultivating varieties of produce in these farmsteads.

[1] This is the annual traditional festival of the Bali Nyonga people. Characterised by rituals, gun-firing, dancing and exceptional circumstance, this four-day traditional festival marks and celebrates the end of a season and the beginning of another. It attracts thousands from Cameroon and the outside world.

Dr. Gomia is a Professor in the Division of Literature, Languages and Philosophy at Kentucky State University (KSU). His current research interest is in the field of Public Administration and International Development.