Is my Country Still Beautiful?
Students I wooed from the dusty village marketplace, back to the classroom, are more convinced now than ever that I did them a disservice. They would’ve run a few more errands; received a few more tips; made a few more friends; learnt a few more life-lessons. I did them a disservice. Yes, it’s true they may have also gambled away a few more coins; picked a few more pockets; robbed a few more shops; fought a few more fights; sustained a few more wounds. Still, I did them a disservice.
I did them a disservice, those kids I urged on from half-tilled plots to the classroom. They would’ve cleared a few more plots; tilled a few more ridges; planted a few more grains; harvested a few more bags; made a few more notes; had a little more transport fare; gone further from the guns.
I weep for them!
But is my country still beautiful?
When a teacher’s dutiful service becomes a disservice?
When her youths are sacrificed on the altar of power?
When a student’s mother can only identify his rotting body by the toe nails?
When death lurks at a teacher’s place of work?
When fear lives in a citizen’s heart?
Is my country still beautiful?
When I have to urge Mama to rethink visiting her sick aunt at Mbingo (because I love her)?
When — back in town — my neighbor’s four-year old daughter wasn’t thinking of corn when she returned from school saying “They were popping corn in front of our school today”?
When that sacrosanct human quality — empathy — seems to have gotten itself sucked into a mammoth abyss of egocentricity?
When my professor’s life becomes no more important than that fly Arnold-the-toddler toyed with as it struggled in vain to escape through a transparent window blind?
I weep for them!
I weep for her — my country.
I weep!
As she struggles with heart disease, I weep!
As her head neglects her heart disease, I weep!
As her cardiologists prescribe body cream for her heart disease, I weep!
As her children’s bloody report cards lie unattended on her desk, I weep!
So, is she still beautiful, my country?
When I have cause to wonder if she is?
My heart aches.
Another piece that addresses Cameroon’s ongoing Crisis and the air of inevitability that seems to hover:
