Luke
The truth is like air. can never be compressedOn Fri, Mar 7, 2014 at 2:47 PM, Ayaba Cho Lucas SOUTHERN CAMEROONS INDEPENDENCE <yabaluc@hotmail.com> wrote:
--I got up this morning with a big smile plastered on my face. It was such a good feeling to smile over the misfortune of others. Yet I enjoyed every moment of this innermost feeling of happiness. It was somehow difficult to systematically explain the source of my delight. Yet not even the bad weather could rob me of this day. What was this smile all about?All along I have been reading the writeups of Konde, Mukefor and others. Something deep inside constantly urged a respond. The rational me always said 'do not become immersed in a circus which will take you nowhere. But why was I smiling? They began by trying to hide the truth. So they deviced a mechanism through which all symbols of the truth could be either dismantled or redesigned to reflect a constructed and falsified narrative. Once they could not kill the message, they turned on the messengers. Convinced it was impossible to kill the truth and the messenger, they claimed the truth to themselves; doctored it and sold it as irrefutable truth. In a mild and subtle way they paraded around confused on how to build an abstract of this new version of the truth. Their abstract began with denial, revisions and distortions and an operationalising tool of divide and conquer; National UNITY where it was never threatened? Or imposed?These secessionists they claim don't exist or if they exist they are in the minority. The secessionists are from a certain area; Oh no, they are frustrated individuals wanting crumbs from the table; Oh sorry they are secessionists from a particular area wanting crumbs from the table and who are not serious on how to get independence which is illegal and from a country created by God to remain forever united.....Its becoming boring right? That's why that rational me thought it was a circus. In constructing and entrenching this single story narrative, they made sure alternative versions were banned and all other medium through which they could be propagated was declared illegal. They did not only changed the truth, they created fictitious dates and obligated everyone to recognise these new dates as part of the single story narrative. They then declared mission accomplished. But was this declaration of victory premature? They moved rapidly trying to consolidate victory and recruited traitors and spineless carcasses from within us to help export this new narrative. These ambassadors became evangelist who travelled deep into our land to sell the new masters story. Ineffective ambassadors were quickly replaced with more rigorous aspirants who were willing to kill to show the Master they were more effective. The revolving door policy still did not kill the message nor made the constructed and irrefutable truth a norm. The new dates for chanting the master's version of the truth made no difference either. After 50 years of recycling, the truth stubbornly kept creeping its way through tight crevices to the surface. The army of propagandist created and sustained were unable to bury it for ever. Militarisation, economic deprivation, social exclusion and political manipulation were not able to keep the truth buried.. The Master went back to the drawing board to reconsider his options. The Chief Rabbi decided it was time to get down to the field himself to declare the truth dead and buried. It needed willing and unwilling accomplices but this time not the usual unsuccessful ambassadors in the name of Fons, Chiefs, Governors, Ministers and a vast array of others lining up to take their place. It needed foreign accomplices in this burial ceremony where the final mission accomplished would be declared. This time not at sea but in the capital of the deceased. It was almost like having a deep reflection over the Melian dialogue or was it a monologue; a recitation of the powerful of what they can and what the weak must. But who are the strong? Who are the weak and to what category do we belong? Looking back at periods of manipulation and confrontation, we can boldly proclaim ourself the stronger party. Despite the armada at their disposal, they have failed to bury the truth. I remember sitting in my hotel room in Victoria and being informed past 1 am in the morning that the intestine is severed or when in some rare moment of glory a Fal wielding commander gasping for air and telling me through his nostrils that he comes from Mveh.I was still smiling as I was reflecting of this journey. What a journey! Just to kill the truth. But why has that truth kept creeping out even when our messengers are locked up in perpetuity; when others are simply starved to queue up for survival; even when the Master rabbi owns all the factors of production; even when we lack a radio, even when we are so ineffective in selling the truth or defending it? Why has it been impossible to bury this truth or successfully sell its constructed derivative even when the master has got men like Achidi Achu, Nkwan Francis, Agbor Tabi, Mukefor, konde, Susungi? The reason is simple: The first rule of copyright is not to mess up with the original. Our truth is incontrovertible. This was simply a dream. I got up to face the real world where even incontrovertible truths have been held at bay for eternity by more determined and stubbornly entrenched manipulators. Yet I still remain conscious as a patriot volunteer that Dr. Mbua is right and that it may neither be in my hands nor in the hands of Mukefor and Konde. It takes just one shot.
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--
Aaron Agien NYANGKWE
P.O.Box 5213
Douala-Cameroon
Telephone +237 73 42 71 27
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