An Excerpt from Flash of the Sun
Chapter Sixteen
September 13, 1958
They said Ruben Um Nyobé radiated
unusual confidence that did not reflect his level of exposure to the known
world controlled by the major powers. Some of the men of power exercising
direction over the destiny of colonial Africa aptly admitted with some degree
of awe that Ruben Um Nyobé, the leader of the banned Union of the Peoples of
Cameroon, otherwise known as the UPC, was a well-read man. A few of them even
talked of his poignant wit, holding that the French Camerounian leader also
possessed the great ability to grasp details like a high-functioning vacuum
cleaner, and pointing out that he had what it takes to be a successful
politician anywhere in the world.
True the Cameroonian
interacted with his people deeply and in a manner that some of his enemies and
opponents claimed smacked of populism, true he was engaging even with those who
were committed to preventing him from realizing his political dreams, and true
he was an altruist. But even Ruben's most virulent critics all agreed that he
was neither a populist, a con politician
nor an advocate of discrimination. Ruben considered himself a leader with the
common touch and an all-embracing vision to move his people to a better future.
The steel-nerved Ruben’s
evolution over the past decade as the head of a trade union that championed the
interest of the workers of French Cameroun, to that of the leader of a
political movement committed to rallying
the forces of the former German colony towards reunification and independence,
had taken a toll on him. That was because the arduous task of galvanizing the
populations of British Cameroons and French Cameroun, of working against
Britain and France in their visions of control of a future post-independence
Africa, and of being a good father and husband, was proving to be far more
challenging than he had anticipated.
As he walked the
footpaths of the Bassa forest that bright September afternoon, Ruben looked
neither charismatic nor imposing. In fact, the expression on his face was that
of a worried man caught in a death trap. His eyelids shook again, repeatedly,
as if a vibrator was triggering them. The trembling always left him with a
premonition of trouble, an intuitive feeling he did not like, but one that had
been plaguing him for over a week now. It made him grumpy to the point where he
started snapping at his fighters for no apparent reason or for the slightest of
mistakes or infractions. Also, he could not stop himself from constantly
dwelling on the past, to the vision of a
future reunited Cameroon that he and other close top officials of the UPC
weaved. That future New Cameroon was expected to be at peace with itself and
the rest of the world.
Ruben was convinced that
they had done a great job harnessing the resources of the land, that they had
cultivated a sense of common purpose among the various groups in both the
French-speaking and the English-speaking populations of the partitioned former
German colony of Kamerun, and that they were winning over foreign friends to
their cause. But then, France lost Indochina, surrendered the task of fighting
communists and nationalists in that part of Asia to the Americans, and then
turned its eyes to their nascent African civic-nationalism with a determination
to quell it that rivaled the ferocity of the Roman Army in its campaign to
defeat Spartacus and his slave revolt against Rome. Reacting to fears that the
UPC would reunite French Cameroun and British Cameroons and then lead it and
other French colonies away from its control, the weakened French government
panicked and banned the party on false grounds that it harbored Marxist
objectives.
Ruben shut and opened his
eyes in rapid succession as if to ward off depressing thoughts. Still, the
worries persisted. Those ten years of laying the foundation for a reunited and
independent Cameroon involved winning the overwhelming support of both the
French Camerounian and British Cameroonian peoples, a task that kept him away
from his family most of the time and that subjected him to a great deal of
deprivation. It was a sacrifice for the future, the UPC hierarchy had reasoned.
But now, all their efforts and sacrifices were being washed away by the
irresponsible and irrational action of Roland Pré, the right-wing Frenchman who
banned the UPC on July 13, 1955. That was seven months after he was made the
High Commissioner of French Cameroun, and in effect the chief administrator of
the United Nations Trust territory. The UPC’s ban occurred five months before
elections for seats in the new Assemblée Législative du Cameroun Français (ALCAM),
otherwise known as the Legislative Assembly of French Cameroun. The UPC’s
confinement to the shadows of politics in French Cameroun was all the more
disheartening because they had been looking forward to winning more than seventy percent of the legislative seats.
The UPC leader’s thoughts
drifted again to the trembling of his eyelids. He muttered a sigh under his
breath and shook his head warily. The trembling of his eyelids wasn’t the only
thing that worried him so much. The onset of insomnia and the discomfort that
came with it had added more irritation to his edgy nerves. Flashbacks of those
sleepless nights when the brief moments of slumber were interrupted by
terrifying dreams that never failed to leave him soaked in his own
perspiration, were not comforting at all. His vivid memory of one of those
nights brought a sigh to his lips. For the past couple of days now, everything
around him seemed to be having an eeriness that he found strange to his senses,
to the point where he even had to seek the help of a local doctor about it,
fearing that he was losing his mind.
"You need a lot of
rest, you need some sleep and some time off from the worries of the destiny of
this land," the doctor had told him.
But what did the
physician know, living off the sifted information the French system was
providing to the local population and the rest of the world about the French
Army’s fight against the UPC liberation movement? How could the doctor even
expect him to sleep when his people were being massacred every day, and when
they were being forced to flee their homes and live a desolate existence in the
heart of the forest? Furthermore, how could his mind be at rest when Félix
Moumié, Ernest Ouandie, Abel Kingue and most of his other assistants had to
flee to British Southern Cameroon, leaving him virtually alone in the arduous
task of continuing the insurrection in that part of French Cameroun where the
French had concentrated their forces with the sole purpose of killing the
cherished dream of reunification, independence,
and a New Cameroon?
As he trod the footpath
with his close lieutenants in front and behind him, Um Nyobé’s mind started to
wander again—this time, to his 1956 appearance at the United Nations where he
had presented the motion for immediate reunification and independence of French
Cameroun and British Cameroons. However, another French Camerounian unknown to
the political circles in the territory also appeared at the assembly hall that
day led by the French ambassador to the United Nations who, it turned out, had
made arrangements for the unknown entity to speak after him. The position the
man postulated was so shocking that he found himself trembling in suppressed
rage. However, when he found out afterwards that his French Camerounian
counterpart was groomed, coached, and paid by the French to deliver their
version of events in the UN Trust Territory of French Cameroun; he was more
awed than surprised.
Hiyopot, as Ruben had
referred to the man afterwards, had countered and contradicted all his claims;
and without blinking an eye, the comprador had looked in his direction and
declared to the assembly that he, Ruben Um Nyobé, was not even of Cameroonian
descent, and for that reason above everything else, he, Ruben Um Nyobé, had no
right to be there speaking on behalf of the peoples of French Cameroun or
British Cameroons, territories that were carved out of the former German colony
of Kamerun.
He remembered how
flabbergasted he was by Hiyopot’s speech until a female delegate from Romania
turned to him, smiled, and then told him in a voice that brought some relief to
his soul. “Mr. Um Nyobé, do not worry
about the things he just said. Every country has its smart and its less smart.
In Rumania, we have our useful idiots too."
Still, that betrayal from
his compatriot did not stop him from continuing with his mission to sensitize
world leaders about the plight of the peoples of both French Cameroun and
British Cameroons. He knew he was carrying a tough message to sell to the rest
of the world that France was doing everything within its power to carry out its
plot to retain control of French Cameroun while giving the world the impression
that it had granted that part of the former German colony the independence its
people wanted...
By Janvier Chouteu-Chando, author of Flash of the Sun amazon.com/Flash-Sun-Comp
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