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.
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