As someone who is very vocal about being a feminist and someone who teaches feminist studies, I would get tagged on Facebook posts meant to ‘trigger’ my reaction on a DAILY basis. Thankfully, I unfollowed the worst offenders and used the security options to limit who can tag me on posts. Still, I am acquainted with people who send me things directly either to make their argument “see what is wrong with that you people’s feminism?” Or to genuinely ask “what do you think about this?” The latter are few and far between. A while ago, I came across a post by writer Chika Unigwe which struck me. I cannot find the exact tweet, so to paraphrase her: “I do not owe anyone knowledge on social media. Unless you are a student in my classroom, it is not my responsibility to educate you”. The statement might seem outright arrogant and elitist. After all, those who don’t share knowledge are just being selfish right? Nope, that’s not right at all. The statement is not grounded in the refusal to share knowledge, but rather in the refusal of the obligation too often forced on those who are conscious, those who are marginalized and oppressed to do the FREE and emotionally-draining work of educating those who partake in oppressing them. Audre Lorde puts it best in her collection entitled Sister Outsider: Essays and Speeches: Black and Third World people are expected to educate white people as to our humanity. Women are expected to educate men. Lesbians and gay men are expected to educate the heterosexual world. The oppressors maintain their position and evade their responsibility for their own actions. There is a constant drain of energy which might be better used in redefining ourselves and devising realistic scenarios for altering the present and constructing the future. Too often, those who request explanations from believers and advocates of a certain cause- whether that is believing in Christianity of advocating for feminism or protesting Anglophone marginalization- do so from the position of “I already know I’m right, but I want to have fun” or “my knowledge is superior, I dare you to prove me wrong”. As such, explaining anything becomes a sort of thesis defense. Imagine it: having to regularly defend that you are just as human and deserving of equal opportunities, equal rights, and just treatment. That is what feminists have to do online nearly every damn day. And this is because most people don’t know what feminism is. They don’t want to. We all have the ability and resources to educate ourselves, and if one’s curiosity is genuine they would put in the work, and look for reliable sources rather than jump the wagon and preach based on social media posts often taken out of contexts. And that is just it, a lot of the curiosity is not genuine so they don’t put in the work. They ‘just share’ what suits their own pre-conceptions. So why- unless you’re paid for it- would anyone want to engage in educating them? God knows I’m tired of it and after this blog post- where I’ll be sharing my perspective and details on an ongoing campaign that can serve as a resource for the genuinely curious- I’m resigning from it. Last year, I was interviewed by Toridey on a variety of issues, feminism among them. Please see the video below: This year, my organization Better Breed Cameroon is running a #WomensMonth2020 campaign on all our social media to shed light on women whose contribution to nation-building has been undervalued, women whose sacrifices and abuse has been given inadequate attention and the general status of gender issues in Cameroon that speaks to just why we need feminism. See below release for details: From now henceforth, this post will serve as my response to any requests for free explanations. I hope you enjoyed it and I hope those who need to educate themselves! As always, your comments are welcome!
Vlog: What I Would Like to Share from My Fitness Journey
Hello there!I hope the year is going good so far. This month I haven’t been musing about much other than the deadlines I need to meet! So I asked for suggestions from friends on what to blog about. Several suggested that I blog about my fitness journey. I have written a bit about how my decision to work on getting healthier has been wrongly perceived before (see HERE), so I was (and still am) reluctant to go into details. But, a recent realization of the toll self-improvement has on our mental health made me consider tackling the suggested topic from a different perspective. I felt the need to talk directly rather than write what needs to be said out. So I hope you enjoy this month’s vlog and do leave a comment. Let’s discuss this!
Being Intentional in the Journey
Happy New Year folks! Towards the end of the year, I attended a vision board workshop at church with a good friend and Christian sister called Olivia Mukam Wandji. As a project management specialist, Olivia often uses project management language in her speech. As she led us through our vision board construction she compared our lives and the ambitions we have for it to the life cycle of a project. She said as we begin this new decade outlining our visions, we should consider that we are planning a project and note that there will be different phases; the planning phase, implementation phase, another for monitoring and evaluation, before the project end. Each phase requires ‘planning’ and guidance. This morning, I am thinking of her remark in another light. What about the cycle of our Christian lives? We rarely ever plan our Christian development the way we do our self-development, why don’t we care about the growth of our faith the way we do our professional growth? I understand that would be hard to do because faith isn’t something we should regard as mechanical, achievable in steps and such… after all, our Christian development is dependent on God’s grace, mercy and the transforming power of the Holy Spirit. Yet, I also think that our lack of planning in this part of our life is evidence of our lack of intentionality in our development as Christian. I recall reading some piece that admonished us to ‘respect God’s time’. The idea of respecting God’s time was odd to me, he is master/owner of time. It’s all his anyway. What time I commit to give him is my own out of the [surprisingly] inadequate hours I have to be productive. Yet the writer made a sound point that convicted me. Our lives run on scheduling and that speaks of intentionality. We have appointments entered in our calendar for months ahead, we have birthday notifications to remind us to wish those we love well, we respect meeting time and interview appointments and dates by being on time and ensuring we have nothing going on concurrently. We are very intentional with respecting time with fellow humans, our career and social commitments. But when it comes to God? Not so much. Going to church is an option, not something we’ll be fined for if we miss- as is the case with missing some classes. So what if we do prayer and meditation at 5am today, 11am tomorrow and 3pm the next? At least we did it, there is no prescribed time to worship. Thinking this way is not altogether wrong, of course, God cares more about your heart and motivations than if you have a perfunctory routine of bible study at 6am every day. Yet, thinking this way also shows that we regularly take God for granted. In the absence of intentionality, we often short-change God. Give him less, because we didn’t intentionally set out to give him more. When we aren’t intentional about what time we do that meditation and prayer, or that bible study, etc. We end up giving God what’s left of our energy, attention and time after we’ve done everything else. Or worse, we forget altogether as we postpone it saying “I’ll do it later”. Now imagine if we were more intentional not only ‘respecting God’s time’ but with our Christian journey as a whole. Imagine if we looked at our lives the way we look at our careers and said ‘I want to grow to this level of Faith’ the way we say ‘I want to reach this managerial level’. Imagine if we set out to develop habits that would develop us as Christians? This could be taking a course in scripture exegesis, training for youth ministry, or learning to be more forgiving? Imagine if we had Christian growth goals and targets as we do career goals and weight loss targets! I’ve imagined it and I can already see that if I did that I would be a lot stronger as a Christian. Vision boards, five-year plans and all forms of goal setting are renowned for helping the individual stay focused. Having a target written down, broken into achievable steps and such makes it easier to achieve a big seemingly overambitious goal. Whether that goal is ‘becoming CEO of a multinational company’ or ‘becoming a better disciple of Christ’. Please note that being intentional does not mean we set out to ‘earn our salvation’ nor does it insinuate that our Christian growth is solely up to us. The primary fact of our faith is that our salvation is freely given by Jesus Christ’s sacrifice on the cross for our transgression. Likewise, we literally cannot be better Christians without God himself enabling us to do so via the Holy Spirit. So why be intentional? The battle is not ours but the Lords, right? How does our being intentional or not matter in the grand scheme of things? The answer simply: being intentional is proof of our own commitment to God. You may not have to earn salvation, but if you have given your life to Christ and received salvation by his sacrifice, you are now a ‘slave’ to him. As a slave, you are to serve your master. Being intentional ensures you are an efficient servant. Similarly, though we cannot be better Christians without God himself enabling us to do so, we must first submit ourselves to God for the Holy Spirit to work in us. The act of submission is on us, and THAT part must be intentional. Submission doesn’t come easy, you choose it EVERY DAY. A quote by Rick Warren captures this perfectly. He says: “as humans, we are to be a living sacrifice to God. The problem with a sacrifice that is still alive is that it can crawl off the altar”. How often have you submitted yourself or even just a problem to God in prayer at night, only to wake up in the morning and
Wishing You a Decade of Dependency and Thriving Despite Deficiency
As a teenager, I wasn’t really ‘taught’ how to cook. I moved around a lot. And in every home, I would have tasks like dicing onions and tomatoes, fixing the vegetables, grinding spices up, etc. But no one allowed me near the pot and no one allowed me to do everything from scratch. I knew how to cook in theory-everything that needed to be in that meal, but I hadn’t ever done it for myself. It was only when I had dropped out of school in lower-sixth (think age 17) and was staying with my older male cousin at his studio that I was actually ‘in charge’ of cooking (he must have thought, oh now there is a woman in the house). I recall that every time I cooked, no matter how familiar I was with the ‘process’ of the meal I was making, I would begin with a prayer. An honest to God prayer as in : “Dear Lord, please don’t let me mess up this food. Please help me remember how Christy used to make it and let it come out just as well. Please don’t let Elvis laugh at my cooking” Every. Single. Time. If only my cousin knew how much I wanted to impress him then- and not poison both of us, of course. I would pray like that for over two years- 2007 to 2010; just picture it, me praying for guidance for something as simple as mixing pancakes or stewing cabbage. Something that ‘insignificant’, would have me with eyes closed fervently praying and I would BELIEVE God was hearing and would help. Because he God wouldn’t allow me to be shamed before those who I was cooking for nah? Is he not God again? Especially when I was in my first year at the university and imbibing all those self-help books that had us believing we needed to impress guys with our cooking… let me not even go there. The point is, by mid-2010 I was living on my own, had to cook just for me. I was experimenting and learning a lot more but also, the pressure to impress someone else was off. So I stopped praying before cooking. I had mastered a lot of the basic meals, so no need to ask for guidance so the food comes out well. And just like that, I stopped depending on God for that. I believe(d) I was a pro. Cooking isn’t the only thing I have grown out of depending on God for. I used to pray before every time I write- and I’m talking fiction, a blog post, an email, etc. I never felt like I deserved to be in the places I had been accepted into. How could I be at Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s workshop when I only just discovered her that year? When I only just managed to buy her book THAT trip because quite frankly I had no access to it before. How could I be in Uganda with so many amazing women writers when all I have a horrible collection of poems published? So of course, I would pray before every single thing I wrote, praying that God makes it better than it is because I know it is crap. Occasionally, I still pray before I write, but now it’s more “Lord, you know I procrastinated and now this deadline is here, help me make it”. The prayer is no longer about really depending to make the thing happen. I am ‘grown’ now and jaded. I think “Monique just sit up and work, what you need is discipline!” And I am right. But I am believing I can (and should) be the discipline master of myself, all day every day. I am also believing I need only discipline. And on these two things, I am wrong. As many cooks will tell you, you can follow the recipe exactly, do everything as you should have and still come out with a mess. As we say in Pidgin-English, life get as e be. Why am I sharing this? Well, two reasons. First, because it’s the end of the year and we’re all taking stock on how far we’ve come (or not) and how far we have yet to go. It occurred to me that as we grow up, mature, and life hurts and disillusions us, we become jaded. We may grow in faith, yes, but it no longer the faith that is hopeful. It is a surrendered faith. Our faith now is either more calculating with us marrying our adult logic to it and thinking along the lines of: “if I fast for this number of days, torture myself in this way, make a vow to God or give this amount of money to church then he will answer my prayers” OR the other which I think of as surrendered/resigned faith which says “Che sara sara, whatever will be, will be”. We lose that innocent faith, that faith that believes God listened to your childish prayer request to have the meal come out just right. We lose that child-like dependency that has us needing God for everything; and like five-year-olds who have finally learned how to use the bathroom on their own, we begin to shut daddy out. Until they may need a new roll of tissue and open the door a crack screaming, so we too call when it’s a mess ‘please give me this or that’. We’re not so independent after all. And we hate it! Or at least I hate it, and that is the second reason I am sharing this. One of the major lessons 2019 taught me is I cannot be all the things. I cannot meet my ideals (and I wasn’t even striving for perfection o!), I cannot save myself, I will be forced to depend. Because I have been built flawed and meant to depend because I am human and expected to fail. With this lesson, I gave myself permission to make mistakes, gave
What Would you tell Your Younger Self?
We’re at the end of 2019 and I, like many others, will be doing the typical end of the year (or in this case, end of a decade) reflection. One of the most common questions people are asked for self-reflection is this: What advice would you give your younger self? Or a variation of what is basically the same question “What do you wish you knew at age 20?” Recently, I’ve considered this question and found it to reek of regret and our lust for perfectionism. Now, I’m not saying wanting to undo certain mistakes made is a bad thing, but it is something I feel we should consider more lest we fail to learn from what we wish to undo. We are constantly growing, changing based on exposure, experiences, hormones and social climes. So it is presumptuous to think what we currently feel we should have known at that time is what we actually needed to know. We are also presumptuous to believe our younger selves would listen to any advice we would give. I could back in time and tell my younger self: believe you can do this because you will make it. But my younger self would not be ready to hear it. Until I would have had certain experiences, I wouldn’t see how I could make it nor why I would need to try. I would need to grow to a point where I can appreciate that knowledge. And that growth would happen via making mistakes. The desire to go back in time to change what we consider mistakes is symptomatic with thinking we should not have failed at all, whereas failure is so very often a part of the process. Please note: I’m in no way trying to suggest that “all pain was worth it because it made us stronger”. I truly dislike that school of thought because it too often justifies abuses against a person. On the contrary, I am referring to what choices we make for ourselves, the various ways we think we could have done it differently/better. Perhaps we could have done it better, but would we have grown as much if we had the cheat sheet? Would we be the persons we are today? Knowing too much of what could happen often impedes our trying. We take fewer risks with knowledge and that is both a good and bad thing. Years of watching Hollywood products and reading pop-fiction based on the good witch spiel has ingrained in me the lesson that every action has a reaction, to change one thing is to change many others and that could be for the good or bad. The mistake we made, the ignorance of this or that, the wrong choice, etc. might have been the best way to learn the lesson we learned. Perhaps it is the ignorance of our younger selves that enabled us to accomplish so much despite the hurdles. We wouldn’t have tried so hard if we’re as knowledgeable (and jaded) as our older selves undoubtedly are. As I do reflection at the end of this year, I have come to appreciate some of the ‘mistakes’ I made and ignorance I had at certain points. I have come to appreciate the outcomes of the experiences I would have warned my younger self about. Some- not all. But enough to know that I would not tell my younger self nothing except- trust the process. I’m telling my present-self the same thing as well. Trust the process.
Is There a Need for Reconciling my Faith and Feminism on the Issue of Virginity?
Recently, the internet was buzzing with news, opinions, and jokes on African-American rapper T.I’s declaration that he regularly takes his daughter for a virginity test. As I followed the conversation, I noted that a lot of those who claimed they “could not get why the father was receiving backlash” supported T.I using Christianity and moral dictates. I found that interesting and weigh in with this month’s #AboutMyFaith installment in yet another video. Here you go: The Christian faith is notoriously silent on issues of sex and sexuality. As if not speaking about it makes it go away. In fact, the church often follows Ostrich-like methods in dealing with a lot of sticky issues; from abuse to racism. For this reason, I’m glad some Christians are using alternative platforms to speaking up about what is not discussed in church frankly. I recently enjoyed a discussion by Melissa and Kevin Fredericks via their Love Hour podcast on a similar sticky topic (pun intended). Do check them out and as always, please let me know your thoughts!
#AboutMyFaith October 2019: A Vlog-post
Not every time writing… sometimes we vlog, eh? As always, I look forward to your thoughts, so drop a comment! Feel free to drag me as you wish, I’m struggling with my presenting skills
Making a ‘To-Undo List’ for the #ThrivingThirties
On the 11th of this month, I excitedly entered my third decade of life sharing loads of photos taken by a dear friend Melissa Lucas with the hashtag #ThrivingThirties. As is my tradition, prior to birthdays and New Years’ the days leading up to the birthday were filled with a lot of introspection. The annual exercise of questioning who and where I am now vis a vis who and where I want to be, editing my vision board, re-writing my life purpose statement, etc. usually results in me making an upgraded version of a to-do/to-be list for ‘a fulfilled life’. However, this year I paused mid that exercises and opted for something different. As I looked at the 7-year plan I made at the end of 2012, the goals I had outlined, the lists of ideals… my ideal physique/appearance, my ideal career, my ideal home, my ideal man, etc. I laughed. As per those outlined ambitions, I should have had my Ph.D. by now and published at least two academic papers. As per that list, I should have at least a million (FCFA) in savings which I can ‘forget about for emergencies only’…. and the lists literally go on. But as per that list, achieving those things would make me happy, more fulfilled, successful. I now know that is not true, those things are very valuable but why they matter let alone why I felt they should have been attained/ticked off by a certain age required some examination… Goal-tracking across the years… Ultimately, I decided I won’t be making any edits to the vision board or new to-do/be lists. I have yet to check off the things which I’d outlined at 23 so why bother? Don’t get me wrong, I love that I made those plans. That I wrote them down. Above all, I love that going through my old journal, I can see that I do know what I want and why I want it. I am at the very least, someone who has examined their lives in spirit with Socrates’ famous quote “An unexamined life is not worth living’. It is clear I am on the right path. The timelines I made may have been crazy, but the goals and dreams were things I genuinely contemplated on, things close to heart and things I am still working on. So if there’s nothing wrong with a to-do/be list, why did I shun it this time around? Well, the answer goes back to the Socrates’ quote again. Upon examining my life, I didn’t think more goals to achieve was what I ought to prioritize. This year I am learning that what keeps me from fulfillment is as much what I am yet to unlearn/free myself from as the things I would like to achieve. My to-do/be lists had things like: Learn another language, lose X amount of weight, save this much money, apply to that program, bag that dream job, build that relationship etc. things I’d like to achieve/gain… These are not bad things, but as I am finding out, not necessarily the main things leading to happiness and fulfilment. So I am now a firm believer in the need for To-Undo/Unlearn lists. Rather than make goals for the next decade based on notions of what success means and what I need to be happy and fulfilled, I am contemplating on the things I would like to erase from my mind, the ways of thinking, learned behavior that I have realized keep me from living wholly and completely every day. Author Victoria Dhal tweeted in 2018 “Women are raised from the cradle to be hyperconscious of what we say & wear, how we walk, talk & smile, how we give in or resist or flirt or ignore, who we talk to, where we are…”. The last two years have taught me that my greatest obstacles are things that I have been socialized with. In many ways, I am my own worst enemy because I have been cultured to be. So here is an exercise I am sharing with you: rather than focus on what you feel you ought to achieve to be the ‘ideal you’, consider what you must undo/unlearn to be a better you… Make a ‘To-Undo/Unlearn List for yourself. A bucket list would have experiences we would like to have before dying, a vision board would illustrate ambitions and goals we would like to achieve or our version of a successful life, but a ‘To-Undo List’? That would outline chains we have recognized that restrict us, chains we must break to live our best lives, to live freely and true to ourselves. Here is an excerpt from my own To-Undo list: 30 Things to Unlearn in My Third Decade Unlearn unhealthy coping mechanisms Unlearn fear of failure Unlearn resistance to vulnerability. Unlearn shame over all things sexual Unlearn fear of being unlikeable/not being accepted. Unlearn the habit of postponing living Undo/free yourself from the need to be impressive. Unlearn the idea that you must be ‘good enough’. You are enough, period. Unlearn pre-defined conceptions of everything from art to beauty to knowledge to wealth. Learn to question what you’ve been taught these things are, be open to new conceptualisations of them and define them for yourself. Unlearn the instinct to shrink yourself for fear of being perceived as ‘too much’… whether that means, apologizing prior to airing your concerns or wearing muted colors so you don’t stand out… The to-undo/unlearn list goes on, but based on the above excerpt you can see how unlearning is just as empowering (if not more so) than acquiring. We typically strive for certain things based on our learned desires for them. You may want to be a wife because you’ve been socialized to see it as a status you must attain for social acceptance. You may want to lose weight because of learned ideas of beauty being a particular size and shape. I am not saying these things are bad goals, not at
Let’s talk ‘Spiritual Fathers/Mothers’
Shortly after my last retreat, I had a conversation with one of my friend’s older sister. Since hearing me talk about mental health struggles she- like many others- seems to have the idea that I am what the bible describes as a ‘baby in faith’. On my part, I don’t deny this. I’ll happily be a baby in faith to everyone including God. Too many people trying to claim spiritual adulthood without considering that true growth requires tons of pain. Whether I am a baby-in-faith or adolescent or whatever stage of the journey I am on however is something I know only God can determine. What she was doing is patronizing judging. But then, most of us are guilty of that. God knows I’ve done my share. So I recognized it and accepted it with a shrug. With that background, you can understand that when I told her I had taken a retreat and felt the experience really grew me, she still had her misgivings. She asked me “who led you through the retreat, I told her that an older Christian friend of mine ‘held my hand’ through it. She said “Yes, but what man of God?’ and I could sense the judgment so I made it clear that I had received some counseling from my pastor. Then she said: “I really think you would do better with a spiritual father”. Right then, I felt myself go tense, as the one who sought and experienced the retreat, I was wondering what made this other person deem it not good enough and in need of improvement for ‘better’. But when that initial annoyance at the dismissal of my experience not being good enough, passed. I was able to query her on the notion of Spiritual fathers. Why do you think I need a spiritual father? She responded that I could use with someone stronger in faith to shepherd me. That choice of words and my experience with acquaintances who often speak of their ‘spiritual parents’ left me disturbed. So I’m making this post as a call for public opinion. I may overthink wording as a writer/lover of words. But I think we call all agree that the words one uses matter… When you say someone is your father, you put them in a position of authority with responsibility. The church encourages the practice of godparents who are to assist parents in raising the children and in some cultures step in when parents pass away. But this is different from the idea behind spiritual fathers/mothers as used today. From talking with this friend and others I have gleaned that one’s spiritual father is deemed their intercessor, the one who helps them become better Christians, the one to whom they confess, who corrects them, who counsels them in making life-changing decisions, who helps them interpret the bible and much more. I once asked a friend who spoke of such what theologians and pastors are for then? Her response? Pastors cannot possibly develop sufficient familiarity with all their church members so spiritual fathers are necessary. That may be the strongest argument I’ve heard for ‘spiritual parents’. It is very true, that as our churches grow in size the connection/fellowship is often watered down and it is hard for pastors to actually shepherd. Yet given my experience; the things expected of spiritual fathers/mothers, the role-play in the relationships and most importantly, the basis for selection of hints of idolatry. I know we often think of idolatry as worshiping some statue, but one of the greatest lessons I’ve learned in the course of my Christian journey is that idolatry is sneaky and rarely ever that straight forward. It is often as simple as extreme reverence, placing a human on a pedestal they shouldn’t be on, valuing something- anything- more than we value God. It’s a more common sin that we think. Idolatry is often performed in the church itself; we often put our religious leaders on pedestals forgetting that they too are human. Because ‘the man of God’ said it, it must be true. We don’t try to get to know God for ourselves, content with what the pastor shares on Sunday. This shouldn’t be the case. The idolizing of church leaders is often accepted (even expected) based on their authority as trained theologians, and recognized leaders of the congregation. With regards to ‘spiritual fathers/mothers’ however, the basis for idolizing is even less substantial because most spiritual fathers/mothers have not really trained in theology, nor even as counselors. They also do not have institutions that can call them to order or reign in their influence. And what is most disturbing, their accreditation is often human judgment. They are spiritual mothers/fathers because they are perceived to be more ‘spiritual’ than the ‘children’, closer to God, more able to interpret the word, more ‘professional’ Christians. No one should be thought of as ‘spiritually higher’ to the point of being our intercessor- that is Christ’s job as our High Priest. No one should be charged with being an interpreter of the word on our behalf, we have been given the Holy Spirit to enable that for us. Mind you, I do not mean to deny that some people are more spiritually mature than others based on their length of time in the Christian journey, experiences, spiritual gifts and regular study of the world. Yet, as Christians, we ALL have equal access to God. We are all his children. And as, Priscilla Shirer is noted for saying, God doesn’t have grandchildren. We can and should go to those we see as more spiritually mature for mentoring. But we need to also keep in mind that we are not God, and how we measure spiritual maturity may not be how he measures Christianity. A new ‘baby’ Christian can teach a great deal as well. So let’s talk: what is your take on this? What is a spiritual father/mother to you? What role do they play in your life?
An Open Letter to Myself and other Cameroonians Like ME Who May Need Some Hope
To you, the young start-up CEO with bold dreams and drive and talent struggling to survive in a country that is outright discouraging for business To you, father and mother fraught with worry over your child’s safety, over their future, over the possibility of them being all you would hope they would be, doing all you have hoped they would do in a country such as ours. To you; farmers and market wo(men), working 20 hour days. Undervalued for your work even as you sustain the country. Grappling with everything from market fluctuations to war to the arrogance of a middle and upper class who would bargain the value of your goods down to nothing- like a sport. To you, immigrant by force rather than choice. Working multiple jobs and long hours to support a family at home. To live up to the hopes those who saw you off at the airport had on their faces. To you, civil servant stuck in the system you would like to change but unable to. Fighting not to become ‘one of them’. And still fighting yourself because you need that work. To you, journalist afraid to do what you have been called to do. Forced to negotiate your right to self-expression every day. Slowly transforming from bard to silenced victim -or worse- a sycophant for survival. To you pensioner, tired, so tired. After years of saving up to survive if not enjoy your retirement in the country that doesn’t care… Yet you are now chased from the house you saved up to build, you are now an IDP, your life’s effort seemingly futile. To you, the doctor, to you the nurse. Underpaid and at risk every single day. Regularly confronting illness and death which could have been avoided, if only… if only we were better…. To you, activist, development worker, advocate striving for a better future. Investing your money, time, effort, health… sacrificing your relationships, safety, pleasures and loads more… with very little rewards, and little hope of future rewards. To you: student, teacher, entertainer, writer, engineer, unemployed graduate, private sector employee, hairdresser, researcher, seamstress, translator, builder, businessman, taxi-driver… To you all and to me. I’m sorry. Very sorry. But I must ask you still to hope. I know too well how we all try. I know too well how tired we are. Sleep no longer helps, food no longer satisfies. We have made do until we are about done. We want to give up. There is enough reason to. Why believe in something that is set up to self-destruct. Why fight for people who cannot appreciate the sacrifice? Why not just leave? I have asked all these of myself. I am even now asking this of myself. I would like to teach myself to give up, to learn not to hope any longer. I am struggling to dream a new dream a dream other than a Cameroonian dream. I truly wish I could. Actually that is a lie, I do not wish I could. It is not a wish, rather it is something I know I should, for sanity and a different life. My real wish, what I pray for is that I had some motivation- just a bit of relevant encouragement to keep trying. So I am writing this to me and to you too. To all of us that may need some reason to go on after that mockery of a presidential speech. After yet another trip past threatening soldiers wielding guns at what used to be your local hangout or after yet another lockdown imposed without care. This is for all of us at the brink. Sister, brother, mother, father… Sit down. Rest. Remember, try to remember who you once were. Try to remember what birthed the dream you now want to give up. Try to remember why you started. Take it out, that motivation. Regard it again, even if it is now an empty bottle. Drop your tears in it and shake to capture any residue of hope left. Drink that. Never throw away the bottle. You may need it again. And even if next time only the scent of what the bottle once held is left to flavor your tears. Repeat. Because hope is a fragile thing but hard to completely remove. Some dregs must remain like oil drops in a narrow-mouthed bottle. So please try again. I am sorry to ask. I know it’s too much. But if I don’t hope. If you don’t hope. There will be no hope. So let’s try. Perhaps just a little more. Let’s hope, just a little while longer. We do not do it for this government. Not even for the country. We do it for ourselves. And for others who like us will have a dream, much like ours, and will need to see an example of those who didn’t stop even if they slowed down.