The chickens have come home to roost. Men and women who have over the years misused the campus of the most prestigious Anglophone University in Cameroon, the only University with what looks like a campus - the University of Buea to hone their skills on rebellion, now languish in jail. Others are in hiding. While a few unlucky ones have crossed the borders for a disgraceful exit into exile in Europe and America, as the ultimate harvest of their thoughtless misadventure. Strikes have been registered at the University of Buea for decades. The elements of these strikes include variables and constants, disguised in trivial demands as campus water taps, toilets and photocopying services. None has ever been on books and about promotion of scholarship. Never has the equipment of the third-world library been a demand. Food, yes it has been pressured for meals in the university restaurant to be priced at 50 FCFA (US$0.01) per plate in 2017! So, students have come and gone, as changing variables. The constants, remained. With the teachers, as fixed factors in the battlefield, the strikes persist. Commonsense ordains that the teachers as constants have perpetuated strikes. That is the unchanging factor, and the statistic which tests significantly positive to explain strikes in the EML Endeley University of Buea – I wish!
Not all the teachers, just a significant minority, who allowed themselves to be used by competing tribal political forces, to render the University ungovernable, and as a springboard for a bigger agenda. They became the macho-sadistic heroes on campus. Revered, neither for their teaching nor research breakthroughs, but on their capacity to render Rambo-style exploits to ether kidnap the Vice-Chancellor, break windows, burn offices or rain-insults on colleagues from the boisterous pulpit of beer parlours and the abyss of Molyko’s brothels. I mean teachers, University teachers. These are their achievements, Thomas’s would goggle their names to find nothing, except from the websites of their propaganda tools publishing their Rambo-like exploits.
So be it that the teachers in the English-speaking primary and secondary education sub-system in Cameroon would have legitimate claims and threaten to go on strike. The higher-education politically illiterate Rambos from the University of Buea would hijack and derail the cause into something unrecognizable. On the pretext that they teach in the university, unsuspecting sponsors would revere them leadership for a cause, ill-equip to lead. But for who they are, boisterous clients from the sodomistic abyss of society who thought they have practiced enough on revolution tactics at the university of Buea, and were now ripe to unleash their menace to the greater nation state.
The outcome? What a mess! What a tragic turn of events, as they meet their waterloo, for Mr Biya is no woman in the mould of Limunga la Njeuma or Nalova la Lyonga. Man-to-man, they would have to face the better experienced and superior forces of State unleashed from the valleys of Nkoldongo. The outcome is as recently and explicitly covered in diverse media outlets.
On the trip to Yaounde, the supposedly revolutionaries would pee and poop on their bodies the umpteenth time. Their comrades have fled. Men who held Molyko hostage, and reigned terror on campus. Even a young barrister given a part-time teaching position would misconstrue that for some form of power, and frolicked with bare-foot revolutionaries. Men who boast in public about colleagues they have killed , masters of the art of sorcery who claimed to their mistresses they could appear and disappear surprisingly would on January 17, 2017 be begging state gendarmes with tears in their eyes.
Within a few days, reality has dawned on them, this is no f***g trivial matter. The deceit of broadcasting on social media was nothing else but a virtual illusion. This is real, real-life in the bosom of a state taking its responsibility to maintain law and order, as its primordial responsibility. No volume of pee and poop would liberate you. The death penalty looms, and their mere thought and sight of their daily handcuffs sends them again into another bout of pee and poop in their pants. Welcome beyond the movies to the real world of the Patrice Lumumbas, the Jonas Savimbis, the John Garangs, the Um Nyombes et al.
While their fans, safe and dry behind ICT screens, some in distant lands thousands of nautical miles in the discomfort of economic exile, knoweth the facts not, rain insults, bully and cyber-hound thoughtful souls. Their dream of their liberating knights with shining armour marching into the promise- land are here, and they would then warn others: don’t there spoil our thing! Which thing?
Only the feeble minds who fear death while hiding in exile would think 20 million Cameroonians would cow to anarchy when push from a faceless few comes to shove. Time is the ultimate victor. Hey you, nameless and faceless, try and join the real world, and welcome to the real world, here in Cameroon, not cyberspace. Cyberspace is virtual reality. Man no run.
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