(A tribute to Southern Cameroon, envisaging the daily demise of those living and witnessing the
agony of French suppression and genocide, but with a mind of victory at the end.)
Cry my beloved country!
Raped, abused, tortured, killed, adducted, amidst violence, unrest, brutality, arrested development, no progress, hate, All because I asked.
Asked to be recognised, asked to live, asked to be accepted in my own home.
I am bartered and tortured. My children hiding in the bushes, some missing, how many are dead?
The pain is excruciating, I never dreamt of walking this path, I never dreamt of this dread, doesn’t it say tomorrow will be better?
But gloom has been lurking around.
What do you hear from the other end?
Noises, gunshots, screaming, agony, torture, another soul just departed, in an undignified manner,
What do you see? Houses going ablaze, flying bullets
Human carcases lying around like life doesn’t matter any longer.
The pain I nested yesterday, waiting for release has created a hallow in my heart, as the situation becomes worst. Has it come to stay?
These questions keep going on in the mind. Panic and fear of yesterday has turned into heroic bravery and disillusion. I am torn between two thoughts, and it keeps me in a spiral.
I feel the rage and urge to do something, but I feel disillusioned as my vision becomes so blurred, because my own words have come my very own victim.
I am so scared, and my mouth is shut. I am the silenced victim
No way to express, only the mind can process until it becomes disillusioned
Then life begins to appear in the shades of agony. Pain and sorrow has become the norm of the day.
Agony and disillusion has become a life style. The story from the next door neighbour is the same.
The next phone call is received with panic… did you hear what happened to…?
The next message is opened after a silent prayers, can this be another news
Laughter on the lips but the heart is sunk in deep sorrow.
I no longer know who walks besides me, I am suspicious of the other, what if I express my mind?
Will I be like him lamenting behind the big bars, will I end up being more afflicted and silenced
So I keep it all in my head, until I am almost losing my mind
I am losing my identity! Should I join them, to them it is either I am like them or extinct … assimilation?
I am torn from within. I cannot lose myself, that is who I am. This thoughts have been buzzling my head. My identity is my reality.
Until life is losing its very meaning. Everyday is another cry for survival.
The sweet memories of the yesteryears are what I try to hold on to, but the pictures are becoming blur.
There is need for a tomorrow picture, but what do I see?
A youthful population, exploited and extinct, fear and panic everywhere. I try to rise, but I no longer know what tomorrow holds
Exchange of gunshots; but there is a contradiction to this
How can big machinery guns compare to local riffles?
My eyes are seeing the impossible
I am becoming accustomed to the despicable
The noise that made me run away in frenzy yesterday is what I wait to hear the next minute.
This noise has been likened to one of my favourite snacks “popcorn”.
I even laugh at the sound as it has become like a video game in my eyes and to my ears.
Pondering on the genesis of all these, how I found myself in this union.
Thinking to myself;
I thought we were in agreement when we came together, I thought we had mutual respect for each other, I had given you all my confidence and support, but didn’t know you had an agenda.
How naïve I was to believe you. Now I am silenced and cheated. Downtrodden and exploited
My voice can be heard only within my own thoughts because I now fear you.
But this is over, we have come to a breaking point.
The spill must be out
The hallow must be sorted
The wounds must be healed.
I am no different from you. My name is my identity
I must be free from your dirty hands, stained with blood, hate and deceit.
My disillusion has turn to bravery.
The wells are boiling up and must spill over.
I am up to your challenge
I refuse to be silenced.
No more a victim but a victor
I have a voice
And with my voice I cry out!!!
My God is my helper and will come for me!
You must let go!!!!!
Freedom!!!!
Written by Emilia Efeti Agey
