THE STORY OF A LIFETIME
It would take a lifetime, my lifetime, to tell my story of these two. I happen to have lived longest with this couple before and through the Buea Government Nursery School, the Government Bilingual Primary School behind the old presidency, the Saker Baptist College holidays, Lycee Bilingue d’Essos and the University of Yaounde till the Doctorat de Troisieme Cycle. Even after I got married, living at Chateau, Obili, Superette and Damase I have also lived closest to them.
They have been my Daddy and my Mamie, my Dada and my Mama, my Daddy and my Mamsy, coined out in so many ways to express my affection. They have been my friends, my mentors, my confidants, my support system, my fall-back plan, my foundation.
Daddy and Mama have had a model marriage, treating each other with respect and care. Daddy has treated Mama with decency like a lady, with patience in teaching or assisting her, and I feel so proud when even today he takes her hand and they gently walk away. Their love has lasted through the good and the stormy times.
They also showered us with love and taught us a sense of family. Mama had a pet name and song for each one of us, and that gave the cue to the good and bad sessions. Daddy came home with goodies when we lived in Buea, and on cold evenings we would sit by the crackling fire-side and eat them and talk. He was never too tired to attend to us after his busy days. They took us out to stroll and to go shopping in seaside Victoria then and to Douala. Even in Yaounde, “Ministere de Soya” was a favourite family stop point far back in those days. Sometimes after Church it was a drive around the town of Yaounde, small as it was in those days. Of course, the march past, the canoe race at the Lac Municipal and watching parachute displays at the airport on 20th May were part of the outings. And the drives around town to visit and introduce the landmarks and special places with those visitors who came to Yaounde and our home for the first time were added times for education and culture. Even until now, everytime is an opportunity to share his knowledge, wisdom and experiences.
Daddy taught us how to read and cultured us on reading. One of the first places he took us to for “distraction” when we moved to Yaounde in 1972, living in one of the apartments of Immeuble Caric, was the British Council Library down the street at the other end of Avenue Kennedy, at Les Galeries. Thereafter, we ran down there twice or thrice a week to read and come back home with storybooks and novels. There we read through the so good old storybooks and novels and educational ones too. It was not just a pastime because we had to write summaries of the stories! He read with and to us, and listened to us read to make sure we got our pronunciation right. And many times, there was this huge sky-blue book at home on The World and its geography, planets, astronauts, … whose chapters served sometimes as punishment! When we were through with the British Library he took us on a hunt as to where to continue – the French and American Cultural Centres, though those didn’t strike off like the first one. That developed language power in us and probably set the basis for the journalism, translation and certainly the proof-reading and editing skills. Could better skills have been imparted so as to be able to communicate? As children, everyone knew I was Daddy’s favourite for obvious reasons. The feat they pulled out of this is that, rather than breed jealousy and strife amongst us, I became the mouthpiece for us all to easily get what we wanted from him – to our advantage.
Daddy and Mama gave their lives to the Lord Jesus, brought us along and thus taught us the fear of the Lord. Before and since then, during Morning Devotion and through their lives, they also taught us what it is to love, to care, and to share. They have been a model in their care for each other, for us and for the so very many that have passed through and are yet in their hearts, hands and home. And so we find ourselves with an abundance of brothers, sisters, uncles and aunties who for so many we do not know the real link. But that has not mattered because we have been the richer for having shared our beds and food and space indiscriminately, sometimes with whole families over periods of months. The lesson we have learnt from this is that all those who live with us should invariably be helped to move to higher levels than where they came in. Our faithful and beloved Mr Pi was in our lives for 23 years, and is today a retired National Assembly worker. They, through this, instilled in us one of the great values of life – that of considering and treating all men as being equal and not looking down on anyone. They have been there to remind us to fulfill our obligations towards family members and friends – the close and easy and the distant and difficult relationships.
And Mama, the clean, neat, and orderly disciplinarian, has maintained these values and standards. Her immaculate white uniform made her stand out when coming back from PMI Tsinga, and made us run around to put things back in order before she got home. The excellent homemaker, her skills have been appreciated far and wide through her peculiar jollof rice, fruit juice and partly ripe plantain chips! We are yet to find someone who has not been caught in the web of one of these. Hospitality has been her watchword and the desire to share, her lifestyle. She is an ace at sharing every little thing, all the food and special food gifts, with everyone who is in the house – children, househelps, visitors. She has taught us that no one should come to the house and not be given something to eat or drink. Because of her generous heart, there have always been lunches and dinners to welcome or to say good-bye, to celebrate one happy event or the other, though this flow of generosity and desire to share have sometimes been taken for too much love of partying and getting together.
Mama the skilled singer and dancer, has always loved these. Even till today, trying on a new dress or pair of shoes invariably goes with some dance steps which we all now master. Her love for music and rhythm has been transmitted right to her grandchildren who, for the boys, even before the age of two, can aptly drum to the tune of music. And her singing dates from Buea Presbyterian Church Station Choir to leading the His Ambassadors Choir even today. The genes that flow in her children and grandchildren are easy to trace back.
They have taught us to be content with what we have, to remember the good old days with gratitude to God, and to be able to comfortably fit into any and every circumstance. In spite of where he rose to in service to our nation, Daddy remained a servant and taught us the virtues of humility and service. He also taught us not to envy others but to be comfortable with what he could provide us within his means. When we asked him why he did not send us overseas on holidays like some other parents did, he told us that he knew very well how he earned every cent and therefore managed it properly to give us the best. He said he would not swindle money in order to make us live beyond our means. Rather, education was given a primordial place in our lives. And so they did everything and invested their all primarily into giving us the best and provide for all our needs in that direction. They therefore sent us to the best and most renowned schools of the time. They have comparably little to show as material investment. History is there to judge the wisdom behind that decision.
They prayed with and for me through the most difficult times in my education – the choice of a high school, going rather to the University of Yaounde, missing out on a scholarship after the first degree, many long years for the 3eme cycle and Doctorat d’Etat. Mama, in one of my deepest times of academic frustration, taught me not to give anyone the pleasure of knowing they have succeeded to frustrate and discourage me, and to keep me from accomplishing my dreams. She taught me that no one is fit to make me give up on life and on my dreams.
They have been the ears that have listened me out. They have shared my jokes and funny stories and laughed with me. They have been the place where I have been just myself and made all the noise. They have been there to answer my, “Kock, kock, kock, ici!” “Who is there?” “Ce n’est que moi!” “Dis-donc, tu es la?” “Oui, j’ai la!” They have been the ones who have shared my frustrations, problems, difficulties, disappointments and before whom I have thrown all my tantrums.
As I have seen these elegant people mature and slowly slow down, they have proven their undivided devotion to my welfare. They have been with me in hospital for all my deliveries, and every time I have been in hospital with a sick child, they have called or come running to check whenever anyone of us was ill. They have always been there to welcome us from our trips or else sent us fruit juice when they could not be there. They have been fully involved and so we know that if we want any issue faithfully prayed for, Mama should be told. They were always the first to give us money to open accounts for our newborns, money to fuel our new cars, and honestly I do not know one thing they would not give me if they could. Mama has always excitedly shown and shared with me all she received. I have never asked for anything at any time for some impromptu need and they have not provided it. The great joke here is that Daddy has always said, “Money is not my problem. My problem is instead how to use it.”
I am certain of the fact that if I have a joy or difficulty to share, the one person who will always be there and who has always been one of the first persons to show up, is my Mama. Daddy would surely come after fulfilling his responsibility somewhere because of a heart which cares for and carries so many. But he would always come.
I thank God for the gifts and treasures you are to me, Daddy and Mama.
May the Lord help me to give you all the roses I can now and on this side of heaven.
Let me express my appreciation and gratitude to you on this golden opportunity.
I would exchange you for nothing.
Folks, my lifetime is not this short, by the way, but I have to stop somewhere – and that’s here.
(Maimangs)
