Friday 28 June 2013

MY LIFE HAS BEEN A BUSY ONE (Short Story)

My uncle, BabeAmbroseToah, who  was working at CDC Tiku,  told me—or it was guessed at the civil status registry in those days—that I was born in the month of Christmas on the 30th day in nineteen hundred and thirty eight. In those days, our fathers’ memories were mighty libraries that could store as much information as possible, especially facts, figures and dates. But unfortunately enough for me, I barely saw my father. He died when I was just about four years old. Since my father succumbed to death as early as 1942, as I was told too (did I know years and dates by then?), my exact date of birth remained a fertile ground for guess work. But one thing that everybody knew or still knows squarely well about me is my name—Nkainbi Richard Bangsi.
                                             In 1954, sixteen years after my father’s death, I started schooling. I was compelled by circumstances to combine schooling and business in order to provide for my school needs given that my father was no longer there. I was dealing in castor oil. I would buy it in and around Mbesa and export it to British Nigerian markets such as the Onitsha Market. That fetched me fabulous sums of British pounds; pounds because Nigeria and the Southern Cameroons at the time were still administered by Great Britain…
                                             “Richard, you better go to school now.” That was DonatusGwedji advising me. Excuse me, did I say Donatus? No. That is not how I used to call him. I called him “Good Friend” because he was indeed my best and most−trusted friend. Even now, I still call him like that, although I only refer to him now in past tenses. The Lord called him back home before the year 2011.
                                             “I was still thinking about going to school, Good Friend”, I told him while wondering who was going to pay my school fees.
                                             By then Good Friend was in Standard Five in Nkar, in the Nso area. It would appear that he read the verses of disturbance and hesitation on my face like a soothsayer reading cowries on a mysterious mat. Then he explained to me that the colonial authorities in Nigeria had made it clear that education between Infants One and Standard Two was free of charge. That meant that should I start schooling I would only begin to bother about school fees after Standard Two. By that time I would already know how to write my name, at least. I quickly made up my mind to go to school, especially as the idea had come from, or was strongly supported by, a very good friend of mine.
                                             Thank God that the lone school in Mbesa at the time, Catholic School Mbesa, ran from Infants One to Standard Two. I therefore enjoyed free education at the same time with the joy of studying right at home, in my own native village. That gave me the possibility to plan for studies in the senior classes which did not exist in Mbesa. Four years came and passed like a flash of lightning.
                                             Then I left for Djottin, in the Noni area, to enroll in Standard Three on self−sponsorship. I used to earn some money there by doing petty jobs such as clearing farmlands and carrying goods on the head for traders. I still continued the castor oil business while there, but at a minimum level.
                                             When I completed Standard Six, there was nobody to sponsor my studies in secondary school. The needs of secondary education—including fees, books, rents, transport faire to and from the school site, etc.—were far above my limited means now. I gave up all the dreams of going to secondary school. All my attention and aspirations were now shifted towards becoming either a uniform man or a successful and renowned farmer.
                                             I tried in vain on several occasions to be enrolled into the army. And I finally gave up the idea of becoming a soldier. Farming then became an unavoidable path for me to take to the land of success. I then got into farming with my entire mind, soul and strength. That is how I embarked on planting coffee—both the Robusta and Java species—in my compound, in Anyuoeh. I also planted some coffee in my farm at Anda’ang. In all, I planted close to two acres of coffee. And when my coffee wanted or wants to bear, it hits its chest in doing so.  Fully involved in farming the way I did, I have never been ranked among idle fellows in Mbesa. 
                                             In 1969, I decided to find my left missing rib. The search took me down to Njinikom where I found my lovely Theresa Mbu. In strict Roman Catholic tradition, Theresa and I tied the knot of our love on September 17, 1969. That day! I will never ever forget that day. Our wedding was one of the best in Mbesa. It was more than just marvelous, so to speak…
                                             Before the year 1969 ran out, I began my political career. I joined the lone Cameroon National Union (CNU) of Ahidjo in the capacity of Branch Secretary for the Mbesa Branch. Five years later, I became Branch President for that party and stayed in that capacity for long. Later on I became the Subsection President and maintained that position for long too. Presently, I am the Deputy Officer for CPDM Boyo II Section, in Belo.Meanwhile, I keep on playing politics and still occupying many posts of responsibility.
                                             My love for personal development eventually spread like cypress branches into collective development. After all, what does it profit a man if he becomes a millionaire in a poor and inaccessible village?
                                             “They say they need you in the palace on Kfééfèè. Have you heard, Babe Richard?”That was Nawain Susana Jenkuo delivering His Royal Highness Foyn Thomas Toah Njong’s message to me. In Mbesa we address the Fon—Foyn or traditional ruler—as “they” which is an expression of respect. 
                                             In reply I told her: “Yes, I have heard, Nawain Susana. Thank you for bringing the palace message to me. But I hope they need me for something good…”
                                             “Well,” said her, “I suppose it is good, but just go and hear from the palace”.
                                             When I got to the palace, I was told that they have called me to make me the Secretary General of the newly−created Mbesa Traditional Council. I later on occupied the positions of president, vice president and simple member within the same council. Each time I attempted to resign from the council after having served in it for so many years my attempts were foiled. Eventually Foyn Toah got missing—passed away—and Foyn Gilbert K. Njong III was rubbed to replace him. The new ruler too has never allowed me to take leave of that council. I’m however happy, very happy, that I’ve never fought for any post there. All the posts I’ve been holding there have been offered to me.
                                             The development of Mbesa was intricately linked to mine in one way or the other, given the posts I held in that council. That is why I spearheaded the creation of the Mbesa Area Development Association (MADA) between 1963 and 1983. The Mbesa Action Committee (MAC) which was created in 1982 was re−christened Mbesa Area Development Association one year later.  Even before the 1980s, Babe Gwedji Andreas Nshom (alias Ba Malase) and I had already conceived the idea of a development association for our dear village. The first seeds of the association were the Mbesa Social and Development Groups I had created in major quarters of Mbesa before 1982. These groups were formed in the following quarters: Ibal−Ichim, Soalam, Fetongle and Ntoh.
                                             Babe Andreas and I had been sent with some money to DO Geoffrey’s Office in Bamenda in 1963 to negotiate a serious land issue concerning Mbesa and Oku. DO Geoffrey looked into the matter—because we were naturally right in it—, but did not accept the money. We brought back the money and decided with Foyn Toah to use it and construct the Mbesa Inner Palace—the Nsaang. This money had been contributed by all the inhabitants of Mbesa the way Christians contribute offertory in church.  Although the people of Mbesa accused Babe Andreas and me of having embezzled the money, we had brought it back. In fact, Babe Andreas and Foyn Toah had used the money to makeplanks to be used in constructing the Nsaangwithout informing the people of Mbesa. They did this while I was in Limbe at the time. And it was in 1982 that I came back from Limbe, correctedmy friend`s and Foyn`s error and apologized to the people of Mbesaon their behalfbefore proceeding to create the Mbesa Action Committee, MAC. This money was not ours and so we could not use it by any means. The good use of this money in constructing the royal palace taught us the lesson of collectively contributing for the development of our community.  This is how the idea of MADA sprang up and was materialized in 1983. By popular acclamation, I was made pioneer president of MADA.
                                             I served as MADA President General for four years and it was during my reign that MADA realized the Health Centre project. When it was time to hand over the control of the MADA Health Centre to a missionary body, I organized a vote between the Catholics and the Baptists and the Catholics won. That is why that Health Centre is run today as part of the Saint Martin de Pores Catholic Hospital at Njinikom. Thereafter, I was elected MADA treasurer and I held this post for four years too. I was also the Chairman of the Health Centre until it was fully integrated by the Catholics and duly authorized by the state of Cameroon.
                                             In the 1980s, I rose to the highest level in my political career. That was when the Cameroon National Union was transformed into the Cameroon People’s Democratic Movement (CPDM) by Paul Biya in the early 80s. I was elected as a CPDM Municipal Councilor for the Fundong Rural Council, in the then Menchum Division, before the creation of Boyo Division. I served in that capacity until when FruNdi’s Social Democratic Front (SDF) won over the love of a greater majority of Mbesa following the events of the early 90s.
                                             When happiness visits you, you must start preparing to receive the sorrow it has come to announce. While I was prospering in politics and making much more money in the 1980s, especially out of my business and farming produce, another sad event added onto my father’s death in my life. This time around, my mother,Nawain Martina NdoasakVitoin, suddenly passed away…
                                             My development tentacles also grew towards the church. Together with people like Babe DonatusGwedjiNgong, Babe Christopher ChimseFinji and others, I worked hard to help the Mbesa Roman Catholic Community to disjoin the Djottin Parish in Noni and to join the Fuli Parish in Kom. Later on, the Archdiocese of Bamenda raised the Mbesa Roman Catholic community to a parish, St Agnes Catholic Parish, Mbesa, in 2002. This was during the reign of late Archbishop Paul Verdzekov of the BamendaArchdiocese. In the same vein, I was the pioneer president of the Roman Catholic Justice and Peace Commission for Mbesa for a period of nine years. Presently, I am an adviser in that very commission.
                                             Seven years after the creation of the parish, the saddest event of my life then occurred. I saw the cold hands of death wrap up my dearest Theresa and put her into the never−satisfied mouth of the earth. She finally surrendered to death after visiting so many hospitals. The story leading up to her death went thus: In 2008, she went to attend a Catholic Women Association meeting at Fuli, Kom, and got sick while there. From Fuli, she went to visit some children of ours who reside in Bamenda and used that occasion to consult in a hospital at Bali. She came back from Bali and the sickness continued thereby making her go for consultation at the Saint Martin de Pores Catholic Hospital, Njinikom, where she wasreferred to the Catholic Hospital in Shisong, Banso. She spent a month in Shisongwhere she underwent a surgical operation. The sickness persisted and she went back to Saint Martin de Pores Hospital where she gave up the ghost on 02 June 2009. She just died like that! However, she left behind twelve children to mourn her and eventually mourn me when my own turn comes to finish my pilgrimage here on earth.  These children, two boys and ten girls, continue to make some traces of joy crisscross the ringlets of old age and sorrow on my forehead. Two of the girls have chosen to serve in the Lord’s vineyard as reverend sisters. The first of them is Bertha Yafi Bangsi, or Reverend Sister Bertha, if you like. And the second of them is Sister Emma ItanghiFebunevi Bangsi.
                                             Will posts of responsibility ever allow me to take a rest? When will I ever go on retirement? May be, only in Heaven, if God does not appoint me there too. You cannot imagine that I’m still serving in that traditional council. The council was recently transformed by the Boyo Senior Divisional Offer into the Mbesa Crown Council. And once more I have been appointeda member of it. After all, I have always felt optimistic and capable of handling all posts assigned to me by whosoever and wherever.
                                             My life, as you can see, has been a busy one. I’ve been working like a waterfall, working for the church, working for the world, working for Mbesa and working for my family and myself. I am, I believe, one of those who are born to serve, and not to be served….
THE END!!!
(c) January 2013 Nsah Mala
(I wrote this short story based on an interview I conducted with him (Babe Richard B. Nkainbi) on Monday July 16, 2012.)
Author’s Contacts
Tel: (+237) 7429-1746

                                         BIOGRAPHY FOR BABE NKAINBI RICHARD BANGSI

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