COMMUNITY DIALOGUE AND THE STRATEGY OF DELAYED PEACE IN SOUTHERN CAMEROONS

Ambazonian Flag

Fontem Neba, PhD
Scholar, Critic & Civil and Political Rights Advocate

27 October 2026

Abstract
The recent community dialogue hastily started by the Prime Minister is the focus of the present essay. It questions whether these consultations can deliver lasting peace without addressing the underlying political grievances of Southern Cameroons. Drawing on the 2019 Major National Dialogue, the refusal to authorise Cardinal Christian Tumi’s Anglophone General Conference (AGC), and renewed calls for a Southern Cameroons Conference, the essay interrogates the relationship between grassroots participation, political accountability, and substantive negotiations. It argues that community dialogue can reduce local tensions and rebuild trust but cannot independently resolve fundamental constitutional and political disagreements. Sustainable peace requires transparent implementation of previous commitments, accountable representation, institutional reform, and an inclusive, credible Pan Southern Cameroons conference capable of advancing meaningful negotiations towards a durable political settlement.

__________________________________

The Paradox of Delayed Peacebuilding

There is a peculiar form of political failure that deserves a name: weaponized incompetence. It occurs when those entrusted with responsibility know—or ought to know—what needs to be done but behave as though the problem is beyond their understanding. They evade difficult questions, shift responsibility, and hope that those they have failed will eventually become too exhausted to demand answers.

This concept offers a useful lens through which to examine Southern Cameroons’ political elite serving within the government and parliament of La République du Cameroun, particularly their participation in initiatives intended to engage communities in the Northwest and Southwest Regions. When political representatives are called upon to engage their constituents, the fundamental question is whether they can articulate their grievances, advocate meaningful remedies, and account for their results.

We have heard the familiar excuse: “You know we cannot discuss this issue because it will land us in trouble.” Yet political office is a responsibility, not merely a privilege. Representation without advocacy is an empty title, while participation without accountability risks becoming political theatre.

The problem extends beyond individual politicians to the design of Cameroon’s peacebuilding process, the implementation of institutional reforms, and the absence of a sufficiently credible pathway towards a durable political settlement.

The Cart Before the Horse

The community dialogue initiative launched across the Northwest and Southwest Regions in September and October 2026 deserves serious consideration. Traditional authorities, religious leaders, women, young people, civil society organisations, business operators, displaced persons, and other affected groups need meaningful opportunities to identify grievances, negotiate practical arrangements, and rebuild trust.

Yet a crucial question remains: why is Cameroon organising community dialogue seven years after the Major National Dialogue of 2019, when the national process should itself have incorporated meaningful consultations with the communities most affected by the conflict?

The Major National Dialogue was held in Yaoundé from 30 September to 4 October 2019. It considered decentralisation, the special status of the Northwest and Southwest Regions, education, justice, bilingualism, and national cohesion. Its recommendations contributed to Law No. 2019/024 of 24 December 2019, establishing the legal framework for regional and local authorities, including special-status arrangements for the two regions.

Yet neither the dialogue nor the subsequent legislation brought the conflict to an end. A genuinely participatory process should listen to affected communities, document their grievances, identify shared priorities, and establish how their concerns will influence national decisions. Although national dialogue need not always follow community consultations, a process addressing a deeply rooted political conflict must incorporate meaningful grassroots participation.

Connecting Community Dialogue to the National Dialogue

In addition to the question of sequencing lies a more important issue: how does the government intend to connect the 2026 community dialogue to the outcomes of the 2019 National Dialogue? Will the current consultations assess the implementation of earlier recommendations, continue that process, or operate as an entirely separate exercise? More importantly, what mechanisms will ensure that new recommendations influence government decisions?

If recommendations from 2019 remain incompletely implemented, what guarantees exist that the concerns raised in 2026 will receive a different response? Will the government publish an assessment of previous commitments, identify outstanding recommendations, and explain delays? Will new recommendations be incorporated into an implementation framework with defined responsibilities, timelines, and public accountability? Without clear answers to these questions, those who believe will once again be sent on a wild goose chase.

The government must also clarify how recommendations beyond the authority of local administrators will reach institutions capable of addressing them. When communities raise constitutional questions or demand negotiations over political arrangements, will their concerns be referred to a recognised negotiating mechanism, or merely recorded in administrative reports?

A dialogue process cannot be judged solely by the opportunity it gives people to speak. Its credibility depends on the response to what they say. Without a transparent connection between community recommendations, national decision-making, and measurable implementation, the initiative risks reproducing the frustration it is intended to alleviate.

Community Dialogue as the Beginning, Not the Destination

Community dialogue can facilitate civilian movement, improve access to schools and markets, reduce local tensions, and establish channels for resolving disputes before they escalate. In a conflict that has devastated livelihoods, disrupted education, and displaced families, every life protected matters. Nevertheless, managing a conflict’s consequences is not the same as resolving its causes.

Community dialogue cannot, by itself, settle disagreements over constitutional authority, regional autonomy, the distribution of political power, or the political future of Southern Cameroons. The involvement of governors, divisional officers, traditional rulers, and other representatives does not automatically make a process illegitimate. The more important questions concern its mandate, independence, inclusiveness, and accountability.

Can participants discuss the historical and political dimensions of the conflict without intimidation? Are dissenting perspectives represented, and will authorities publish substantive responses to the grievances raised? These questions are important because consultations that invite people to speak without creating credible avenues for change may deepen rather than restore public confidence.

There is also a legitimate concern that community dialogue could inadvertently—or deliberately—deflect pressure from broader political negotiations. Deliberate intent cannot be established from timing alone, but the possibility that local consultations might be presented as sufficient progress deserves scrutiny. A process should be judged by the grievances it addresses, the commitments it secures, the authority behind those commitments, and the changes communities actually experience—not by the number of meetings held or the seniority of officials chairing them.

A Pattern of Political Pre-emption?

The timing of government-led dialogue initiatives in relation to independent Southern Cameroonian political consultations raises questions about whether these initiatives complement grassroots political mobilisation or risk displacing it.

In 2019, Cardinal Christian Tumi sought government permission to convene the Anglophone General Conference (AGC), but the government refused to grant that permission. The refusal raised questions about the space available for independent political consultation at a time when the conflict demanded serious engagement with Anglophone grievances and aspirations.

This decision is relevant to the present debate. If the government promotes dialogue through its own administrative structures while refusing permission for an independently organised conference intended to facilitate broader consultation, it becomes necessary to ask why initiatives outside government control do not receive the same openness.

What principles determine which consultations are permitted, which are restricted, and whose participation is considered legitimate? A credible peacebuilding process should allow independent political consultations to contribute to resolving the conflict rather than allowing government sponsorship to become the implicit test of legitimacy.

Granted that the refusal to authorise the AGC does not, by itself, establish that the subsequent Major National Dialogue was not designed to obstruct independent political mobilisation. Or that the 2026 community dialogue was not intended to pre-empt a new Southern Cameroons Conference. How does the government explain these coincidences beginning in 2019?

As calls for a new Southern Cameroons Conference gain renewed attention in 2026, the introduction of government-led community dialogue definitely invites scrutiny. The essential question is whether each initiative expands the space for meaningful political engagement or postpones the difficult conversations needed to reach a peaceful settlement.

Community dialogue and a broader political conference address different but complementary needs. The former can help communities restore trust and improve immediate circumstances; the latter could examine underlying grievances, political authority, and institutional arrangements. The danger arises when the government tries to present one as a sufficient answer to demands for the other.

Political Representation as a Trust

Political representation is a moral relationship between those entrusted with authority and the people in whose name that authority is exercised. In The Social Contract, Jean-Jacques Rousseau explored the relationship between political authority and the collective will of the people. Although his theory cannot simply be applied to contemporary Cameroon, it raises a relevant question: how can political authority claim legitimacy when those subject to it believe their fundamental concerns are not adequately represented?

Southern Cameroonian representatives serving within Cameroon’s government and parliament may have opportunities to advocate reforms, influence policy, and raise their constituents’ concerns. Their efforts may also be constrained by party discipline, institutional hierarchies, constitutional arrangements, and political pressures. Such constraints deserve acknowledgement, but they make transparency and accountability more necessary, not less.

A representative who cannot secure reform should explain what was attempted, what obstacles were encountered, and what alternatives remain available. Those who disagree with particular political aspirations should state their positions honestly rather than conceal them behind vague assurances. The moral failure begins when the appearance of representation is maintained while the substance of responsibility is abandoned.

This is where weaponized incompetence acquires its political significance. When individuals knowingly evade responsibilities while retaining the privileges associated with public office, incompetence becomes a means of avoiding accountability.

Persistent silence, particularly when representatives have undertaken to advocate specific reforms, can undermine public confidence. Where officials fail to explain their actions or constraints, they create conditions in which suspicion of political abandonment becomes increasingly difficult to dispel.

Such suspicion should not automatically be treated as proof of deliberate betrayal. Representatives may face institutional constraints, political pressure, or limitations on their authority. Nevertheless, they remain responsible for communicating honestly with the people they claim to represent. They should explain their efforts, obstacles, results, and remaining options.

People have the right to question their leaders when they remain silent or fail to act. However, suspicion alone does not prove that a leader has deliberately avoided responsibility. Such a conclusion must be supported by clear evidence of their actions or inaction. Leaders can build public trust by being transparent, explaining their decisions, acknowledging their limitations, and being honest about both their achievements and failures.

Why a New Southern Cameroons Conference is important

A new Southern Cameroons Conference should complement everything that has been going on, by discussing and taking a stand on substantive issues. The refusal to grant Cardinal Christian Tumi was denied the opportunity in 2019. However, a credible peace process must allow affected communities to articulate their aspirations through diverse channels, not only forums organised or controlled by the government.

Such a conference should address the historical roots of the conflict, the distribution and exercise of political authority, institutional guarantees, accountability, security, and possible frameworks for a durable settlement. It must establish a credible pathway from consultation to negotiation, from negotiation to agreement, and from agreement to implementation.

This requires inclusive representation, a clear negotiating mandate, realistic timelines, monitoring mechanisms, and clarity about how relevant authorities and stakeholders will engage with the outcomes.

The tragedy of institutional failure is that it transfers the burden onto the people institutions are supposed to serve. When dialogue produces no meaningful response and representatives fail to explain their actions, frustration deepens and public confidence erodes.

Persistent grievances do not automatically justify violence, and frustration does not excuse attacks on civilians. Nevertheless, authorities should not assume that people will abandon political demands simply because they have become exhausted. Exhaustion is not reconciliation, silence is not consent, and temporary calm is not proof of lasting peace.

Conclusion

Community dialogue can mitigate the effects of conflict – save lives, reduce local tensions, and rebuild trust, but it cannot independently resolve the conflict’s underlying political disagreements. Its legitimacy and effectiveness depend partly on whether community priorities inform an inclusive and credible process of substantive political negotiation.

The government must explain how the recommendations of the 2026 consultations will connect to the 2019 National Dialogue and influence actual decisions and how everything put together will resolve the conflict in a sustainable way.

The philosophical foundation of this essay is straightforward: political authority is a trust, not merely a possession. From Rousseau’s concern with legitimate authority to the broader principle that public power should serve the common good, political institutions must be judged by whether they respond to the people whose lives they govern. Representatives, accordingly, must account for their actions, acknowledge their constraints, and demonstrate that their positions serve a purpose beyond personal or institutional preservation.

Southern Cameroons needs more than dialogue that manages discontent. It needs meaningful institutional reform, accountable representation, and a credible process for negotiating a lasting peace. History will judge today’s representatives not by the positions they occupied, but by what they did—or failed to do—with the responsibility those positions entrusted to them.

The Southern Cameroons movement, for its part, would be making a grave strategic blunder if it fails to conduct its own consultations to develop a clear, representative, and well-informed position for future negotiations. The world is now waiting to see; they have heard enough.

PEACE BY EXHAUSTION: THE PRIME MINISTER’S FORECAST AND THE FAILURE OF THE NATIONAL DIALOGUE

Ambazonian Flag

Friday, 23 October 2026

Fontem Neba, PhD
Scholar, Critic & Civil and Political Rights Advocate


Abstract
This essay critically examines Prime Minister Joseph Dion Ngute’s reported forecast that the Southern Cameroons conflict could persist for another 10 to 15 years before dying a natural death. It interrogates the political implications of this prediction, particularly government accountability, the limitations of the 2019 Major National Dialogue, and the failure to resolve underlying political grievances. The essay argues that prolonged conflict cannot be addressed through time, exhaustion, or institutional reforms alone. It advocates an inclusive, inter-Southern Cameroonian political dialogue and meaningful negotiations with Cameroun as essential pathways towards a durable settlement, reconciliation, and sustainable peace.

__________________________

The Politics of Waiting

There is something profoundly disturbing about a government contemplating another 10 to 15 years before a conflict within its own territory might disappear. It is even more disturbing when the conflict has already consumed human lives, disrupted education, displaced families, destroyed livelihoods, and condemned an entire generation to uncertainty. When Prime Minister Joseph Dion Ngute suggests that the conflict in Southern Cameroons could “die a natural death,” citizens are entitled to ask whether their government is pursuing peace or simply waiting for the people to become too exhausted to demand it.

The Prime Minister’s reported remarks in Buea on 28 September 2026 raise fundamental questions about the effectiveness of government initiatives, the limitations of the 2019 Major National Dialogue, and the political responsibilities of leadership towards a population that has endured years of suffering.

If another 10 to 15 years pass, the conflict that escalated in 2016 could extend into approximately 2036–2041. For a child growing up amid insecurity, this is not an abstract political forecast but a substantial portion of a lifetime. For a displaced family, it could mean another decade without a permanent home. For young people whose education has been interrupted, it could mean entering adulthood without opportunities that should have been available. For Southern Cameroonians whose political future remains contested, it could mean another decade without credible answers to fundamental questions about governance, institutional identity, and political authority.

The Prime Minister may have intended to describe a possible outcome rather than announce official government policy. Nevertheless, this distinction does not remove the obligation to explain the reasoning behind the forecast or identify measures intended to prevent it from becoming reality. If the statement is a warning, what action does it demand? If it reflects the limitations of existing policies, what will change? And if it is merely a prediction, why should the population accept another decade of uncertainty as a reasonable prospect?

The fundamental concern is whether the government has become so accustomed to managing the conflict that its eventual disappearance is being treated as a substitute for resolving it. Conflicts may end through negotiated settlements, military victories, political transformations, or exhaustion. These outcomes are not equivalent. The disappearance of armed resistance does not necessarily mean that the grievances sustaining it have been addressed. Peace by exhaustion may produce silence, but silence is not necessarily reconciliation.

What the Forecast Really Implies

The Prime Minister’s reported forecast raises questions about whether the government’s existing approach offers a credible pathway to a durable settlement. Seven years after the Major National Dialogue of 2019, the prospect of another decade or more of conflict invites scrutiny of what that process accomplished, what it left unresolved, and what lessons have been learned.

The forecast also risks normalising prolonged suffering. When another decade of uncertainty becomes a publicly contemplated possibility, an extraordinary humanitarian and political crisis may gradually be treated as an ordinary condition of national life. The urgency of resolution gives way to the management of a conflict expected to persist indefinitely.

Another implication concerns the distribution of responsibility. The population is repeatedly expected to endure the consequences of insecurity, displacement, interrupted education, economic decline, and uncertainty. Yet the institutions possessing the authority to initiate substantial political change must explain why these burdens continue and what they intend to do differently.

The forecast also raises questions about government credibility. A government that has convened a national dialogue, introduced institutional reforms, and pursued security measures must be prepared to explain why the conflict persists and what its next steps will accomplish that previous initiatives have not.

The question is not whether earlier initiatives produced any results. It is whether those results have been sufficient to resolve the underlying dispute.

Finally, the forecast forces a distinction between the reduction of violence and the achievement of peace. Roads may reopen, markets may become busier, schools may resume classes, and combatants may surrender. These developments matter because they can save lives and restore livelihoods, but they do not automatically resolve disagreements over political identity, governance, or the structure of the state.

The government must therefore clarify what it expects to die a natural death: the fighting, the armed movements, the grievances, or the political dispute itself. Unless these are distinguished, a decline in armed activity may be mistaken for a settlement that has not actually been achieved.

The Unfinished Business of the Major National Dialogue

The implications of the Prime Minister’s forecast become clearer when examined against the Major National Dialogue held in Yaoundé from 30 September to 4 October 2019. The dialogue was presented as an important initiative for resolving the crisis, addressing decentralisation, the special status of the Northwest and Southwest Regions, education, justice, bilingualism, and national cohesion.

Its recommendations contributed to the adoption of Law No. 2019/024 of 24 December 2019, which established the legal framework for regional and local authorities, including special-status arrangements for the two regions. These developments should not be dismissed. Institutional reforms can have practical value, and special-status arrangements represented a significant development in regional governance.

Nevertheless, the key question remains: Did the dialogue resolve the political dispute that produced the conflict, or merely introduce institutional measures within which the dispute continued?
Before the government convened the Major National Dialogue, efforts were already under way to bring Southern Cameroonians together to deliberate on the crisis and develop proposals for resolution. Cardinal Christian Tumi and other religious leaders had pursued an Anglophone General Conference. The All Southern Cameroons People’s Conference, held in April 2019, also sought to encourage deliberation across political divisions and identify possible pathways towards a sustainable settlement.

Yet representatives of the All Southern Cameroons People’s Conference were not invited to participate in the Major National Dialogue, and the conference’s collective position was not formally considered within that process. Although individual Southern Cameroonians may have participated, individual participation is not equivalent to formally considering the resolutions of an existing conference or engaging with its collective political proposals.

This exclusion raises a fundamental issue about inclusiveness. How could a process claim to address the crisis comprehensively while leaving out the position developed by a conference specifically convened to discuss the political future of Southern Cameroons?

The sequence also raises the suspicion that the government’s process displaced earlier initiatives by transferring the principal forum for determining the response to the conflict to a dialogue convened and controlled by the central government. At minimum, the national dialogue proceeded without first establishing a broadly agreed internal position among Southern Cameroonians on the fundamental questions at stake.

The constitutional framework adds another dimension. Article 62(2) of the 1996 Constitution provided for legislation to take account of the specificities of certain regions in their organisation and functioning. The special-status arrangements recommended in 2019 therefore drew on a constitutional mechanism that existed before the conflict escalated in 2016.

This chronology raises a legitimate problem: did the dialogue open the fundamental political settlement to reconsideration, or channel the crisis towards a mechanism already available within the existing constitution of Cameroun?

Some Southern Cameroonians believe that the constitutional provision envisaging special status was intended to anticipate unrest following the All Anglophone Conferences or predetermine the outcome of any dialogue if or when it was convened. Nevertheless, it reinforces the need to examine whether the dialogue genuinely opened the political questions at stake to meaningful consideration.

A process can produce legislation without resolving the political dispute that made such legislation necessary. If special status was considered an adequate response, the government must explain why it did not produce a durable settlement. If it was intended as an initial step, the government must identify the further political measures required. If fundamental constitutional questions were excluded, citizens are entitled to ask where and when those questions will be addressed.

The Implicit Admission of Failure

The Prime Minister’s reported 10–15-year forecast carries an uncomfortable implication: it raises the question of whether the pathway established after the Major National Dialogue has proved insufficient to deliver a durable settlement.

This is not a formal admission of failure, nor does the forecast establish that every policy pursued since 2019 has been ineffective. Rather, it makes it necessary to assess the relationship between the dialogue’s stated objectives, its institutional outcomes, and the continued existence of the conflict.

If the measures adopted after 2019 had established an effective pathway towards a settlement, why is another decade or more being contemplated before the conflict might disappear? What assumptions have proved inadequate? What lessons have been learned? What will the government now do differently? These are questions of political accountability, not merely speculation about the future.

A government cannot point to the existence of reforms as proof of peace when the fundamental dispute remains unresolved. Nor can it invoke the complexity of the crisis indefinitely without explaining how that complexity informs its strategy. The persistence of the conflict requires an assessment of the government’s approach, including whether it has adequately addressed the political grievances that successive initiatives have failed to settle.

The Prime Minister may intend his forecast as a warning about the difficulty of resolving the crisis. But a warning about prolonged conflict also demands an account of the measures being taken to prevent that outcome. The public deserves to know what milestones will demonstrate progress, which political questions will be addressed, and how the government intends to prevent another generation from inheriting the same dispute.

Otherwise, the forecast risks becoming an implicit acknowledgement of impotency without the corresponding explanation of responsibility, lessons learned, and corrective action. Extending the anticipated duration of a conflict is not a new strategy, and predicting its eventual disappearance does not discharge the obligation to resolve it.

Weaponized Incompetence: When Failure Becomes a Forecast

The concept of weaponised incompetence offers a useful, though critical, framework for examining the political implications of the forecast. It describes a pattern in which failure to fulfil an expected responsibility shifts burdens onto others or allows difficult obligations to be avoided.

Applied to conflict resolution, it raises the question of how persistent non-resolution can become normalised, with the population bearing the consequences while the institutions responsible continue to fall short.

A conflict escalates, the government introduces measures intended to address it, those measures do not produce a durable settlement, and the population continues to suffer. The public is then presented with the prospect that the conflict may eventually disappear through the passage of time.

At what point does persistent failure to resolve a problem require political accountability? When does the government acknowledge that its existing approach may be inadequate and accept the responsibility to change it?

The difficulty of a problem does not eliminate the obligation to address it. The greater the consequences, the greater the need for clear objectives, measurable progress, and accountability.

The danger is that the endurance of the population is being used as an implicit resource in the management of the conflict. Families are expected to endure, young people are expected to abandon violence, and communities are expected to survive prolonged insecurity while fundamental political questions remain unsettled.

Yet the surrender of weapons cannot by itself guarantee that the grievances associated with the conflict will disappear. Nor can the passage of time establish that a political settlement has been achieved.

The government possesses institutional powers and political responsibilities that ordinary citizens do not. If the existing approach has not secured a durable settlement, the obligation is to explain what must change. The Prime Minister’s forecast should therefore be the beginning of that examination, not the end of it. A government should not convert the persistence of a problem into a justification for allowing it to persist.

An Inter-Southern Cameroons Dialogue Before Negotiations

Southern Cameroonians do not share identical political aspirations. Some favour independence, others advocate federal arrangements, and others support different forms of political and institutional reform. These differences cannot be wished away, nor should any organisation presume to speak for everyone.

I have severally argued in previous essays for an inclusive internal political dialogue, mediated by Southern Cameroonians themselves, through which participants can deliberate on their differences, identify shared priorities, and agree on key issues, including a credible negotiating position.

The objective would be to establish what can be agreed upon, what remains contested, and how those differences should be represented in subsequent negotiations. External negotiations become more difficult when the people whose future is at stake have not had sufficient opportunity to deliberate among themselves.

An internally developed negotiating position would not eliminate disagreement, but it could establish clearer priorities and a more transparent basis for engagement with the government of Cameroon.

A Southern Cameroons Conference could form part of this broader conversation. The essential distinction is that internal dialogue and external negotiations serve different purposes. The former helps Southern Cameroonians deliberate on their priorities and prepare a negotiating position; the latter provides a forum for addressing the substantive issues in dispute with the other party.

The government cannot resolve disagreements among Southern Cameroonians on their behalf, nor should it assume that an administrative arrangement within the existing constitutional framework necessarily settles the political questions they wish to address. An internally driven process would provide a more credible basis for political engagement without requiring every participant to agree on every aspect of the future.

This is not an argument for postponing negotiations until every disagreement has been resolved. Rather, it is an argument for ensuring that negotiations are informed by meaningful consultation, credible representation, and a clear understanding of the issues requiring resolution.

The Future Will Judge the Present

Prime Minister Dion Ngute’s reported 10–15-year forecast raises a fundamental question: will the government pursue a credible political settlement, or allow another generation to inherit unresolved grievances?

Seven years after the Major National Dialogue, the prospect of another decade of conflict demands an honest assessment of the measures adopted, the questions left unanswered, and the government’s willingness to change course.

Security measures can protect civilians, and institutional reforms can address important concerns. But neither can guarantee lasting peace while fundamental political grievances remain unresolved. The government must demonstrate that its policies are directed towards a durable settlement rather than the indefinite management of violence.

Southern Cameroonians must have the opportunity to deliberate among themselves, reconcile their differences, identify shared priorities, and develop a credible negotiating position. The government, meanwhile, must explain why previous initiatives have proved insufficient and demonstrate how its present approach will deliver a settlement that addresses the causes of the conflict.

The Prime Minister’s forecast should therefore be treated not as an acceptable timetable for peace but as a challenge to political leadership. If another 10 to 15 years of conflict is considered possible, the government must explain what it will do to prevent that outcome. It must identify the political obstacles to resolution, acknowledge the limitations of previous measures, and demonstrate a credible commitment to addressing the fundamental issues in dispute.

A government cannot escape responsibility by predicting that a conflict will eventually end. It remains accountable for the suffering its policies create, the opportunities for peace it squanders, and the consequences of decisions it postpones.

Waiting for a conflict to die is not a peace strategy. The true test of political leadership is not whether a government can predict when a conflict might disappear, but whether it possesses the courage, imagination, and political will to address the reasons it began. Ensuring that another generation has no reason to inherit this conflict is the true test of political leadership.

A REJOINDER TO AMBASSADOR TIBOR NAGY: DOES SOUTHERN CAMEROONS NEED A JOHN GARANG?

Ambazonian Flag

Wednesday 14 October 2026

A Critical Reflection on Leadership, Unity in Diversity, and the Institutional Foundations of Liberation

Fontem Neba, PhD
Scholar, Critic, Political and Civil Rights Advocate

Abstract

This rejoinder to Ambassador Tibor Nagy’s call for a John Garang figure in the Southern Cameroons liberation struggle examines the relationship between visionary leadership, unity in diversity, and institutional development. It argues that John Garang should be understood not only as an individual leader but also as a metaphor for the capacity to unite people across differing political orientations around a common purpose. Drawing lessons from South Sudan, the Continental Congress of the thirteen American colonies, and other liberation movements, the essay emphasizes the importance of representative institutions, accountable leadership, and organized collective action. It advocates an inclusive All Southern Cameroons Conference capable of coordinating cooperation, managing and sustaining unity,  and warns against dependence on a political Messiah.

___________________________________

A Tribute to Ambassador Tibor Nagy

Ambassador Tibor Nagy deserves the appreciation of the people of Southern Cameroons for his courageous advocacy for their cause for freedom. At a time when their suffering and political aspirations have struggled to command sustained international attention, his willingness to speak out has helped keep the Southern Cameroons question alive in international discussions.

His rhetorical remarks about the need for a John Garang figure in the Southern Cameroons liberation struggle deserve serious consideration. By asking who our John Garang is, Ambassador Nagy raises a question that extends beyond the search for a charismatic leader. His metaphor invites us to examine our capacity to forge unity in diversity despite our different political orientations, strategic preferences and visions of the future. Our moral and political dilemmas in the last nine years are sufficiently instructive.

We may pursue different political objectives and disagree over leadership, strategy, negotiations and our eventual political destination. Nevertheless, these differences need not prevent us from recognizing a shared concern: the liberation and political future of our people. Unity does not require us to think uniformly, and cooperation does not require total ideological conformity.

The point I am making is that, Southern Cameroons needs both visionary leadership and an inclusive institution capable of organizing our diversity into meaningful collective action. John Garang’s experience offers lessons about leadership and political mobilization, while the Continental Congress of the thirteen American colonies and the experience of other liberation movements demonstrate the importance of collective organization. We need leaders, but we must not make our future dependent on a political Messiah especially given the character failures and decisional errors in our recent past.

1. John Garang: Leadership, Vision and Political Organization

John Garang de Mabior (1945–2005) was the founding leader of the Sudan People’s Liberation Movement and Army (SPLM/A), established in 1983 during the Second Sudanese Civil War. He developed the vision of a New Sudan, initially advocating the transformation of the Sudanese state rather than limiting his political objective to southern independence.

Garang helped establish the SPLM/A as a major political force and played a central role in negotiations that produced the Comprehensive Peace Agreement of January 2005. The agreement established a framework for power-sharing and a referendum on self-determination. Following his death in a helicopter crash in July 2005, the referendum proceeded in January 2011, and South Sudan became independent on July 9 that year.

Garang’s contribution points up the importance of political vision, organizational capacity, international engagement and negotiation. Yet his achievements were not his alone; they also depended on other political actors, negotiators and international mediators.

For Southern Cameroons, Garang’s significance should therefore extend beyond the search for an individual with comparable charisma. His name can also symbolize the capacity to articulate a common purpose and bring diverse constituencies together. The question is whether we can cultivate these qualities collectively while ensuring that leadership remains accountable.

2. John Garang as a Metaphor for Unity in Diversity

The search for a Southern Cameroons John Garang can be understood at two levels. At the individual level, it concerns the need for leaders who can inspire confidence, communicate political objectives and coordinate collective efforts. At the collective level, it raises a more fundamental question: can Southern Cameroonians work together across political differences without requiring everyone to embrace the same objectives? That was the case with John Garang. He led the movement, but his political opinion was the minority one.

Our political community contains different perspectives on the struggle, its strategy and its eventual outcome. These differences cannot simply be wished away, nor should their existence make cooperation impossible. The challenge is to distinguish between disagreements that require debate and shared interests that provide a foundation for collective action.

Unity in diversity means preserving legitimate political differences while recognizing a shared responsibility toward the future of our people. It does not require every organization to abandon its identity or every individual to surrender deeply held convictions. It requires a willingness to identify common ground, establish mutually acceptable procedures and cooperate where our interests converge.

No single individual can manufacture durable unity on behalf of an entire people. Such unity must be cultivated through mutual recognition, agreed principles and institutions that allow different voices to participate. If the John Garang metaphor is to have enduring significance for Southern Cameroons, it must represent not only exceptional leadership but also our collective capacity to forge common purpose across political divisions.

3. The Difficult Lessons from South Sudan

South Sudan’s independence did not guarantee political stability. A devastating civil war began in December 2013 amid political rivalries, unresolved grievances and institutional weaknesses. These developments do not diminish Garang’s historical contribution, nor should subsequent problems be attributed to a leader who died before independence. They nevertheless demonstrate that achieving independence and establishing stable, accountable government are separate challenges.

Southern Cameroons must therefore look beyond the identity of a future leader and consider how authority will be exercised, how disagreements will be resolved and how institutions will survive changes in leadership. A prominent individual cannot automatically eliminate internal divisions or guarantee democratic governance.

The lesson is that leadership must operate within a durable institutional framework. A leader may help bring a movement to a critical political moment, but lasting political freedom also requires accountable institutions, transparent decision-making and a political culture capable of managing differences peacefully.

4. The Continental Congress: An Institutional Alternative

During the American War of Independence, the thirteen American colonies which revolted against British control established the Continental Congress as a common political institution. It coordinated important aspects of the revolutionary effort, including diplomacy, finance and military appointments. In 1775, the Congress appointed George Washington as commander-in-chief of the Continental Army, distinguishing military command from the central political institution.

The arrangement was imperfect. The colonies had competing interests, the Congress faced serious organizational and financial difficulties, and the early American political system excluded many people from equal participation. Nevertheless, the experience illustrates how representatives can coordinate a collective struggle without requiring all participating constituencies to become identical in their interests and preferences.

The Continental Congress did not eliminate disagreements; it provided a forum in which representatives could deliberate, negotiate and make decisions. Southern Cameroons should examine this principle rather than attempt to reproduce the American system mechanically.

The American experience is not the only example of organized collective action in a struggle for freedom. Across Africa and Asia, liberation movements developed political parties, national councils and broad-based coalitions to mobilize populations and advance their aspirations.

5. Lessons from Other Liberation Movements

I have discussed these examples in a previous essay and so will only do a reminder here.
In India, the Indian National Congress became a major vehicle of the independence movement, mobilizing diverse constituencies around the end of British colonial rule. In Eritrea, the Eritrean Liberation Front and the Eritrean People’s Liberation Front played central roles in the independence struggle, while divisions among liberation organizations demonstrated the importance of managing internal disagreements.

In East Timor, the National Council of Timorese Resistance helped bring together different political constituencies around the objective of ending Indonesian rule. In Ghana, Kwame Nkrumah’s Convention People’s Party mobilized mass support for independence, while South Africa’s African National Congress and broader formations such as the United Democratic Front connected political leadership with extensive networks of organizations and communities resisting apartheid.

These movements differed in their structures, strategies and historical circumstances. Their experiences should not be romanticized or copied mechanically. Nevertheless, they demonstrate that liberation struggles have often depended on organized movements, political networks and collective mobilization, rather than on one charismatic leader alone.

The lesson for Southern Cameroons is to study how these movements organized their constituencies, articulated common objectives and attempted to manage political differences. We need an institutional model suited to our own circumstances, one that allows people and organizations with different orientations to deliberate, identify shared interests and coordinate action without surrendering their convictions.

6. Turning Unity into Practice

An All Southern Cameroons Conference could provide a common platform for translating these lessons into practice. Its purpose should not be limited to identifying a leader or proclaiming unity; it should establish credible procedures for representation, deliberation, collective decision-making and accountability.

In previous discussions, I have stated that the Conference should establish transparent criteria for participation and representation, ensuring that no individual or organization automatically claims to speak for the entire people because of its visibility, resources or influence. Different perspectives must have meaningful opportunities to participate in decisions affecting the collective political future.

I have also previously stated that the Conference should recognize disagreement as a normal feature of political life. Participants may differ over political objectives, strategies and future arrangements, but these differences should be addressed through debate, mediation and agreed procedures rather than automatically interpreted as betrayal. Unity that depends on silence is fragile; cooperation grounded in honest discussion has a stronger foundation.

I also addressed issues like leadership, diplomacy and financial management, pointing clearly that they must operate under well defined mandates. Representatives should communicate agreed positions, negotiators should remain accountable to the institution, and financial contributions should be managed transparently. No individual should acquire unlimited authority because of personal popularity, military standing, wealth or international connections.

Finally, the All Southern Cameroons Conference should practise the principles it hopes to see reflected in future self-government: inclusion, accountability, respect for procedures and peaceful dispute resolution. Its success would depend not on eliminating political differences but on managing them while enabling meaningful collective action.

7. What Kind of Leadership Does Southern Cameroons Need?

The choice should not be reduced to having a John Garang figure or having no strong leadership at all. Southern Cameroons needs individuals capable of articulating a clear vision, inspiring confidence, negotiating responsibly and working across divisions. It also needs institutions that coordinate different constituencies, define mandates, manage disagreements and hold leaders accountable.

A visionary leader can help people understand a common purpose, while an inclusive institution can translate that purpose into collective decisions. Leaders should exercise initiative without making the movement dependent on their personalities, and spokespersons should communicate agreed positions rather than substitute personal opinions for collective decisions.

We must also accept that cooperation does not require agreement on every political question. Our task is to identify shared interests, clarify areas of disagreement and establish procedures through which collective action can proceed without forcing everyone to abandon their political identity.

The Way Forward

The conclusion we must draw is that Southern Cameroons should build an institution capable of uniting and guiding our leaders, both now and in the future.

Ambassador Tibor Nagy’s advocacy deserves recognition, and his call for a John Garang figure has given us an opportunity to reflect on our leadership and institutional needs. Garang’s experience demonstrates the importance of political vision, organization and negotiation, while South Sudan’s subsequent difficulties remind us that leadership and independence alone cannot guarantee stable, accountable government.

The Continental Congress and other liberation movements offer complementary lessons about organizing collective action across diverse constituencies. Southern Cameroons should examine these experiences and develop an institutional model suited to our own circumstances. An All Southern Cameroons Conference should provide a common platform through which people with different political orientations can work together to overcome the challenges of previous liberation movements.

We should welcome visionary leaders, but we must not wait for a Messiah before organizing ourselves. The responsibility for building unity cannot be delegated to one individual. For a people who have experienced our kind of oppression, making our collective future dependent on a single personality would be an especially dangerous gamble. Our political survival and future freedom require an institution capable of managing differences, sustaining cooperation and holding leaders accountable.

Southern Cameroons needs leaders who can inspire unity, institutions that can organize diversity, and a political culture that enables people with different orientations to work together toward a shared future. Let us build an institution that produces and guides effective leaders, holds them accountable and serves the people it represents. We need leadership that serves the institution, an institution that serves the people, and unity broad enough to accommodate the diversity of our political aspirations.

A POST-WAR VISION FOR THE NEW SOUTHERN CAMEROONS CONFERENCE

FeaturedAmbazonian Flag

A POST-WAR VISION FOR THE NEW SOUTHERN CAMEROONS CONFERENCE:

Organizational Red Flags, Infiltration Risks and Institutional Safeguards.

_Fontem Neba, PhD

_Scholar, Critic & Political and Civil Rights Advocate_

Abstract

This paper examines the risks that could weaken a future All Southern Cameroons Conference and suggests ways to protect its independence and credibility. Drawing lessons from AAC I, AAC II and other liberation conferences, it identifies ten warning signs, including unclear representation, personal control, hidden funding, unauthorized talks and poor record-keeping. It also discusses possible signs of government infiltration while stressing that suspicion is not proof. The paper recommends clear rules for delegate selection, financial accountability, information security, leadership oversight and conflict resolution. These safeguards can help build trust, unity and strong institutions for Southern Cameroons’ post-war political and developmental future.

*________________________________*

 Introduction

 We have earlier said that a new All Southern Cameroons Conference, if convened, should be understood as more than another political gathering. It will provide an important opportunity for Southern Cameroonians to develop a cohesive political, organizational and developmental framework for the post-war era. After years of conflict, communities will need to learn, or relearn, how to coordinate their interests, work together, establish rules for collective action, identify the consequences of the war, and develop immediate, medium- and long-term responses to political, economic, social and humanitarian challenges. The Conference could also provide a legitimate mechanism for determining how Southern Cameroonians engage with the Government of Cameroon and other external actors.

 We have also previously noted that the experience of AAC I and AAC II demonstrates both the possibilities and vulnerabilities of territory-wide political organization. AAC I brought representatives from the thirteen divisions together in Buea in 1993, while AAC II followed in Bamenda in 1994. Contemporary historical records document both the breadth of representation and the difficulties surrounding the conferences and their relationship with government. The lesson for a future Conference is therefore not merely that Southern Cameroonians can unite, but that *unity must be protected by institutions, procedures and accountability.*

 However, the Conference must also recognize that uncertainty, fragmentation and competing claims to representation can weaken collective political organization. Some Southern Cameroonians believe that previous initiatives were obstructed, divided or subjected to government influence. Such claims should be approached with circumspection. The appropriate response is therefore not suspicion of every participant, but the construction of institutions in which manipulation becomes difficult and allegations can be independently verified.

 This is especially important because the presence of Southern Cameroonians in government does not, by itself, demonstrate that the underlying political, economic and developmental aspirations of the population have been achieved. We must not confuse appointments and administrative positions with broad improvements in roads, employment, industries, hospitals, housing, education, infrastructure and living standards. A future Conference should therefore concentrate on collective institutional capacity rather than individual access to government.

 The Conference Must Protect Its Own Institutional Integrity

 The greatest danger may not be an obvious attempt to destroy the Conference. It may be a series of seemingly minor organizational weaknesses that gradually produce confusion, mistrust, factionalism and loss of institutional authority. Historical accounts of AAC I show that organizers faced difficulties securing an appropriate venue, while AAC II was convened partly to assess the consequences of the suspension of the constitutional reform process and the performance of the Standing Committee.  These experiences underline the importance of designing institutional safeguards before political pressure arises.

The following ten organizational red flags should therefore be treated as matters requiring attention. None is, by itself, proof of government infiltration. Their importance lies in the pattern they may reveal and in the institutional weaknesses they expose.

 1. Unclear or Manipulated Representation

 The first major red flag is uncertainty about who actually represents a division or constituency. If delegates are selected privately by a small group, if established procedures are repeatedly changed, or if prominent individuals are allowed to appoint themselves as representatives, the Conference becomes vulnerable to capture.

 Representation should originate from clearly identified constituencies. There should be transparent procedures for selecting delegates, documenting their mandates and replacing them when necessary. The question should always be: *Who does this person represent, who selected them, and what authority have they been given?*

2. Excessive Personality Politics

 A second red flag appears when the Conference begins revolving around personalities rather than institutions. If one individual becomes indispensable, controls information, dominates meetings, appoints committees, *speaks externally without authorization* or presents personal views as Conference positions, institutional independence is already weakening.

 Leadership should therefore be temporary, accountable and replaceable. No individual should possess authority simply because of age, wealth, political history, government experience or international connections. *The Conference should be stronger than its leaders.*

3. Sudden Attempts to Change the Agenda

 Another warning sign is the unexplained alteration of the Conference’s agreed agenda shortly before or during major deliberations. A Conference established through broad consultations should not suddenly abandon the issues that communities mandated delegates to discuss.

 Agenda changes should require transparent procedures and recorded justification. Emergency matters may arise, but they should not become a mechanism for a small group to introduce predetermined political outcomes without adequate consultation.

 4. Pressure to Avoid Documentation

 Institutions become vulnerable when important decisions are deliberately kept off the record. A demand that meetings should not produce minutes, mandates, voting records, financial reports or written agreements should be treated seriously.

 Transparency does not mean exposing sensitive personal information. It means maintaining sufficient institutional records to establish what was decided, by whom, under what authority and through what procedure. Without documentation, competing individuals can later claim that the Conference authorized almost anything.

 5. Unexplained Financial Dependence

 Financial vulnerability is another significant red flag. A Conference dependent upon one wealthy individual, one political organization, one foreign sponsor or an undisclosed source of funding may eventually find its independence compromised.

 The institution should establish transparent financial rules from the beginning. Contributions should be recorded, significant donors disclosed where appropriate, expenditures audited and conflicts of interest declared. Financial support should never automatically confer political authority.

6. Private Negotiations on Behalf of the Conference

 A particularly serious organizational weakness occurs when individuals begin negotiating with government or other external actors without a clearly defined mandate.

 Dialogue with government is not inherently problematic. Indeed, a credible political institution should have the capacity for peaceful engagement. The danger arises when private conversations are presented afterwards as agreements of the Conference or as commitments binding its constituencies.

 All external negotiations should therefore be conducted by authorized representatives under written mandates, with reporting requirements and procedures for accepting or rejecting proposals.

7. Deliberate Division Along Regional or Social Lines

 Another red flag is the systematic attempt to turn legitimate differences between divisions, communities, generations or social groups into permanent political hostility.

 The thirteen-division framework is valuable precisely because it can provide a structure in which different communities retain their identities while participating in one institution. AAC I itself was documented as representing all thirteen divisions, making territorial representation an established historical reference point. 

 Disagreement should therefore be expected and legitimate. What should be resisted institutionally is the transformation of disagreement into permanent exclusion, intimidation or competing claims that some Divisions are dominant. However, we must avoid accepting tasks we don’t understand or cannot execute just because we want to create a balance. Southern Cameroonians must learn to turn down requests they cannot handle.

8. Sudden Delegation Expansion Without Verification

 A further red flag is unexplained growth in the number of delegates, observers or organizational representatives without corresponding verification procedures.

 Large participation can strengthen legitimacy, but unverified participation can create confusion about voting rights and institutional authority. *The Conference should distinguish delegates, observers, advisers, technical experts and invited guests.* Each category should have clearly defined rights.

9. Attempts to Weaken the Preparatory Commission or Secretariat

 If a Preparatory Commission is created to establish procedures, its independence must be protected. Attempts by individuals or organizations to bypass the Commission, alter its membership without due process or prevent it from publishing accreditation rules should receive careful scrutiny.

 The same principle applies to the Permanent Secretariat. Administrative personnel should maintain institutional records and procedures irrespective of which political faction controls the leadership at a particular moment.

10. Pressure for Immediate Decisions Without Adequate Consultation

 The final red flag is pressure to make major irreversible decisions before delegates have had sufficient opportunity to consult their constituencies.

 Urgency can be legitimate during political crises, but urgency can also be exploited to prevent careful deliberation. Major decisions should have defined thresholds, written proposals, opportunities for amendment and clear voting procedures. The Conference should never confuse speed with legitimacy.

SIGNS THAT MAY INDICATE POSSIBLE GOVERNMENT INFILTRATION

 Government infiltration is a serious allegation and should never be inferred merely from someone’s political position, geographic origin, government employment, disagreement with the majority, or participation in dialogue. A Southern Cameroonian who works in government is not automatically an agent of government influence. Likewise, disagreement with Conference policy is not evidence of infiltration.

 The following are therefore *indicators requiring verification*, rather than proof of infiltration.

1. Repeated Attempts to Obtain Unauthorized Access

 If an individual repeatedly seeks access to confidential preparatory documents, delegate lists, internal correspondence or sensitive deliberations without a legitimate institutional role, the matter should be investigated through ordinary access-control procedures.

 The appropriate response is not accusation. Access should be limited according to role, sensitive material should be distributed on a need-to-know basis, and unusual requests should be documented and reviewed.

2. Persistent Efforts to Identify or Expose Participants

 Another concern would be systematic attempts to obtain information that could expose participants to unnecessary political, legal or personal risks. Such activity should be distinguished from legitimate administrative registration.

 The Conference should collect only information genuinely necessary for accreditation and administration, protect personal data, and establish clear rules governing who may access participant information.

3. Attempts to Manufacture Internal Distrust

 A possible warning sign is a recurring pattern of unverified allegations designed to turn delegates against one another. This might include claims that particular divisions have secretly reached agreements, that certain leaders have betrayed the Conference, or that particular groups are preparing to abandon the institution, without credible evidence.

 The proper response should be verification rather than retaliation. An independent ethics or dispute-resolution mechanism should examine serious allegations before they become political weapons.

4. Pressure to Abandon Institutional Safeguards

 Particular attention should be given to attempts to persuade the Conference to remove transparent accreditation, financial controls, voting procedures, conflict-of-interest rules or reporting requirements.

 Such safeguards protect everyone, including participants who may be wrongly suspected. Their removal would make genuine infiltration and ordinary political manipulation harder to distinguish.

5. Unexplained Relationships Between Internal Decisions and External Government Actions

 A pattern in which confidential internal discussions are repeatedly followed by government actions that appear unusually well informed may warrant an institutional security review.

 However, correlation is not proof. Information can leak through many ordinary channels. The correct response is to examine document access, communication procedures and information-handling practices rather than immediately identifying a supposed culprit.

6. Attempts to Create a Parallel Chain of Authority

 A further warning sign would be the emergence of an unofficial structure claiming to give instructions to delegates independently of the Conference’s constitutionally established leadership.

 The Conference should make its decision-making hierarchy explicit from the beginning. No individual, government office, political party, traditional authority, diaspora organization or external institution should be able to issue binding instructions to delegates unless the Conference’s rules expressly provide for such authority.

7. Persistent Efforts to Provoke Premature Collapse

 If particular actors consistently push the Conference toward walkouts, expulsions, procedural breakdowns or irreversible confrontation whenever disagreement arises, the pattern should be examined objectively.

 Again, disagreement itself is not evidence of infiltration. A healthy institution will contain genuine critics. The relevant question is whether a recurring pattern of conduct is undermining established procedures without a legitimate institutional purpose.

How the Conference Should Respond

 The best response to infiltration risk is not paranoia. It is *institutional resilience*. A strong institution makes infiltration less consequential because no individual possesses enough unchecked authority to capture the organization.

a) The Conference should establish an independent Ethics, Compliance and Institutional Integrity Committee. Its members should have clearly defined terms, conflict-of-interest rules and authority to investigate credible complaints. It should report to the Conference rather than to individual leaders.

b) The Conference should establish a documented accreditation system. Delegates should be verified against mandates issued by their constituencies, while observers and advisers should be clearly distinguished from voting delegates.

c) Sensitive information should be protected through ordinary organizational security practices. Access should be based on institutional role, important records should be preserved, and confidential information should not be circulated unnecessarily.

d) Allegations should be handled through evidence and due process. A person should not be expelled, publicly denounced or deprived of participation merely because another delegate suspects them of being an agent. False accusations can destroy trust just as effectively as genuine infiltration.

e) Financial independence should be treated as political independence. The Conference should maintain audited accounts, publish appropriate financial reports and prevent undisclosed financial relationships from influencing institutional decisions.

f) External engagement should be centralized through a transparent mandate. Government dialogue, international engagement and communication with political organizations should be conducted by designated representatives whose authority is documented and whose actions are reported back to the institution.

g) The Conference should establish succession mechanisms before the first major crisis occurs. If a leader resigns, accepts government office, becomes unavailable or loses the confidence of the institution, another properly authorized person should be able to assume the role without destabilizing the entire organization.

h) The Conference should institutionalize disagreement. Delegates should be able to challenge decisions without being branded enemies of the people. Minority reports, recorded dissent, appeals and reconsideration procedures can prevent political disagreement from becoming organizational warfare.

Preparing for the Post-War Era

 The deeper purpose of these safeguards is not simply to protect a conference from government interference. It is to prepare Southern Cameroonians for the responsibilities of political and institutional life after war.

 The war has created enormous challenges that cannot be solved through political declarations alone. Communities will need to consider reconstruction, displaced populations, destroyed infrastructure, education, health services, employment, agriculture, industry, housing, local government, security, reconciliation, public finance and the restoration of social trust.

 These problems require planning across divisions and generations. They also require mechanisms for negotiating with government and other actors while maintaining a clear mandate from the people represented.

 A Conference that cannot maintain its own records, manage disagreement, protect finances, verify representation and survive leadership changes will struggle to manage the far more complex responsibilities of reconstruction and political transition.

 The Conference should therefore be viewed as a school of institutional democracy. Its procedures should demonstrate the kind of political culture it hopes to create: accountability instead of personality worship, evidence instead of rumor, representation instead of self-appointment, consultation instead of unilateralism, and peaceful disagreement instead of fragmentation.

Conclusion

 A new Southern Cameroons Conference could become an important instrument for political coordination, post-war planning and institutional renewal, but its success will depend less upon the prominence of those who attend than upon the quality of the institutions they establish. The historical experience of AAC I and AAC II shows the importance of representation, mandate and continuity, while the broader comparative experience of liberation conferences demonstrates that unity must be organized rather than merely proclaimed.

 The key lesson here is therefore vigilance without paranoia. Organizational red flags should be identified early, possible infiltration should be investigated through evidence and due process, and institutional safeguards should make individual manipulation difficult. No person should be above the rules, but no person should be condemned without evidence. If Southern Cameroonians can build a Conference capable of surviving disagreement, leadership changes, external pressure and political uncertainty, they will have begun constructing something more valuable than a single gathering: an enduring institution capable of coordinating their collective political and developmental future.

The Legal and Political Imperatives of an All Southern Cameroons Conference: A Rejoinder

FeaturedAmbazonian Flag

The Legal and Political Imperatives of an All Southern Cameroons Conference: A Rejoinder

By McFarlane Njoh, J.D.

Introduction

Dr. Fontem Neba has provided a thoughtful analysis of the political trajectories of the former British Southern Cameroons and of the lessons that may be drawn from the All Anglophone Conferences of 1993 and 1994. His proposal for a new All Southern Cameroons Conference deserves serious consideration not merely as another political initiative, but as an opportunity to reconnect the political question with principles of law, human rights, representation, and collective political agency.

The central questions are therefore twofold: what is the legal justification for such a Conference, and why is it politically important now? The purpose of the Conference should not be to predetermine the constitutional future of the Southern Cameroons. Its legitimacy would instead derive from its capacity to create a lawful, representative, inclusive, and deliberative forum in which competing political visions may be articulated, examined, and debated by those whose political future is directly implicated.

The legal foundation for such a Conference is not found in a single provision expressly creating a right to convene an “All Southern Cameroons Conference.” Rather, it emerges from the cumulative protection of freedom of expression, association, peaceful assembly, political participation, and peoples’ rights under the African Charter on Human and Peoples’ Rights. Articles 9, 10, 11, and 13 protect the civic and political space necessary for collective deliberation, while Articles 19 and 20 provide the broader framework governing equality, peoples’ rights, and self-determination.

The Legal Foundation

Article 9 of the African Charter protects the right to receive information and to express and disseminate opinions within the law. Article 10 protects freedom of association. Article 11 guarantees the right to assemble freely with others, subject only to restrictions prescribed by law and necessary in a democratic society. Article 13 recognizes every citizen’s right to participate freely in the government of his or her country, either directly or through freely chosen representatives.

These rights are mutually reinforcing. Political participation is impossible without the ability to exchange ideas. Political association provides organizational structure to those ideas. Peaceful assembly creates the space within which collective concerns may be articulated and debated. The proposed Conference can therefore be understood as an exercise in political association and collective deliberation. Its creation would not, by itself, determine the territory’s constitutional status, nor would it require participants to endorse a particular political outcome. Rather, it would create a structured mechanism through which competing constitutional visions may be considered through dialogue rather than coercion.

This distinction is fundamental. The right to deliberate concerning collective political futures is distinct from any asserted right to impose a predetermined political settlement. A Conference that facilitates participation, representation, and discussion does not answer the constitutional question in advance; it establishes conditions in which that question may be addressed peacefully and democratically.

The jurisprudence of the African Commission on Human and Peoples’ Rights supports this understanding. In Sir Dawda K. Jawara v. The Gambia, Communications Nos. 147/95 and 149/96, the Commission held that measures restricting political participation, freedom of association, assembly, and expression violated multiple provisions of the Charter. The decision reflects a broader principle: meaningful political life requires the preservation of civic space within which citizens may organize, associate, deliberate, and articulate political preferences. The protection of these rights is not merely individual; it is essential to democratic governance itself.

Similarly, in Constitutional Rights Project v. Nigeria, the Commission emphasized that the freedoms of expression, association, and participation are indispensable components of democratic society. The Charter protects not only individual speech but the institutional and collective mechanisms through which public participation occurs.

Deliberative Self-Determination and Democratic Legitimacy

The individual rights protected under Articles 9 through 13 must also be read alongside the African Charter’s distinctive recognition of peoples’ rights.

Article 19 affirms that all peoples are equal and enjoy the same respect and rights. Article 20 recognizes the right of all peoples to existence and self-determination, including the right freely to determine their political status and to pursue their economic and social development according to policies of their own choosing.

These provisions require careful interpretation. Article 20 does not, by itself, resolve the constitutional status of the Southern Cameroons. Nor should it be invoked as though international law has already answered the questions that remain politically contested. Its importance lies elsewhere. It confirms that questions concerning collective political status, governance, and institutional design fall within the sphere of protected human rights discourse.

Contemporary understandings of self-determination increasingly recognize that the concept possesses a participatory dimension. Self-determination is not limited to claims of statehood, secession, federation, or confederation. It also encompasses the ability of a people collectively to deliberate concerning the political institutions through which they are governed.

On this understanding, the significance of an All Southern Cameroons Conference lies not in any predetermined outcome but in the democratic process itself. Its legitimacy derives from its capacity to facilitate informed, representative, and peaceful deliberation concerning competing constitutional alternatives. Whether participants favour federalism, confederal arrangements, enhanced autonomy, independence, or another constitutional model, the Conference provides a venue through which those alternatives may be debated through democratic engagement rather than political exclusion.

Human Rights, Participation, and Civic Space

Where substantial populations maintain longstanding grievances concerning representation, institutional arrangements, cultural and linguistic rights, equality, and participation in public affairs, those concerns implicate questions of rights and institutional accountability. The human-rights framework therefore strengthens the case for representative mechanisms through which grievances may be articulated peacefully.

The jurisprudence of the African Court on Human and Peoples’ Rights is instructive.

In Ingabire Victoire Umuhoza v. Rwanda, the Court reaffirmed the importance of political expression and emphasized that restrictions upon political speech must satisfy requirements of necessity and proportionality. Political expression occupies a privileged position in democratic society because it facilitates public debate concerning matters of collective concern.

Likewise, in Lohé Issa Konaté v. Burkina Faso, the Court held that restrictions on freedom of expression must be proportionate to a legitimate objective and necessary in a democratic society. The judgment underscores a broader principle applicable beyond the specific facts of the case: limitations upon civic participation require careful justification and cannot be imposed simply because political views are controversial or inconvenient.

These authorities do not concern a Southern Cameroons Conference. Their significance lies in the principles they establish. Political expression, peaceful organization, and participation in public affairs enjoy Charter protection, and restrictions upon those activities must conform to recognized human-rights standards.

The African Commission’s decision in SERAC and CESR v. Nigeria further reinforces the proposition that states bear responsibilities not merely to refrain from violating rights but to create conditions within which rights can meaningfully be exercised. Civic participation requires more than formal guarantees; it requires institutions and spaces within which dialogue may occur.

An All Southern Cameroons Conference can therefore be viewed as a mechanism of peaceful democratic engagement rather than as inherently confrontational political activity. Its value lies not only in what it may ultimately decide, but in providing a structured forum within which citizens may deliberate without violence, intimidation, or pressure to reach predetermined conclusions.

Representation and Legitimacy

The legitimacy of any Conference must derive from the people it claims to represent and from the procedures through which representation is established.

This makes Dr. Fontem’s proposal for representation through the thirteen divisions particularly significant. A credible institution cannot simply assemble prominent individuals and assume that prominence constitutes democratic legitimacy. Legitimacy requires identifiable constituencies, transparent procedures, and accountable representation.

The thirteen-division framework provides a territorial foundation for participation while avoiding the tendency to reduce Southern Cameroons politics to a binary North West-South West contest. Traditional authorities, women, youth, civil-society organizations, professionals, political movements, religious communities, business interests, and the diaspora should all have meaningful avenues of participation.

The objective should be representation without capture and inclusion without surrendering institutional authority to personalities.

The broader African democratic framework supports these principles. The African Charter on Democracy, Elections and Governance commits States Parties to democracy, constitutionalism, popular participation, political pluralism, dialogue, and inclusive governance. These principles strengthen the normative case for a representative Conference capable of facilitating broad-based political engagement.

Government Authorization and the Exercise of Rights

Government approval should not be confused with the source of the underlying rights to expression, association, and assembly.

At the same time, the African Charter does not create an unlimited right to assemble under any circumstances. Article 10 recognizes that freedom of association may be regulated by law. Article 11 similarly permits restrictions prescribed by law and justified by legitimate public interests.

The proper legal distinction is therefore between regulation of the exercise of a right and denial of the right itself.

The proposed Conference should operate peacefully, transparently, and consistently with applicable domestic law and the rights of others. Its legitimacy should not depend entirely upon governmental endorsement. Conversely, organizers should not assume that the existence of protected rights eliminates ordinary legal obligations relating to organization, security, or public order.

The relevant legal question is whether regulatory measures facilitate the orderly exercise of rights or effectively extinguish them. Human-rights jurisprudence consistently favours the former and scrutinizes the latter.

The Conference May Be Convened Electronically

There is no compelling reason why a Conference must physically assemble in a single location to possess institutional legitimacy.

Contemporary legal systems increasingly recognize electronic communications, electronic records, electronic signatures, and digitally authenticated consent as legally significant means of conducting transactions, documenting decisions, and preserving evidence.

Cameroon has incorporated these principles into its domestic legal framework through Law No. 2010/021 of 21 December 2010 regulating electronic commerce and Law No. 2010/013 of 21 December 2010 governing electronic communications. Those enactments recognize the legal significance of electronic communications and electronic records.

These statutes do not specifically regulate political conferences or constitutional assemblies. Nevertheless, they reflect a broader legislative recognition that electronic communications, electronic authentication, and digital records may generate legally recognizable effects. By analogy, they support the procedural validity of electronically conducted institutional processes, provided reliable mechanisms exist for participation, authentication, voting, record integrity, and consent.

Accordingly, notices, accreditation documents, mandates, agendas, minutes, resolutions, and voting records may be generated, transmitted, authenticated, and preserved electronically, subject to applicable legal requirements.

Secure electronic participation would allow delegates from the thirteen divisions, the diaspora, and other constituencies to participate without incurring the financial, logistical, and security burdens associated with a single physical gathering.

The critical issue is not whether delegates occupy the same room. The decisive question is whether the institutional framework reliably establishes identity, representation, quorum, participation, voting procedures, consent, and record integrity.

An electronically convened Conference should therefore include:

  • authenticated delegate registration;
  • reliable identity verification;
  • transparent voting mechanisms;
  • verified quorum procedures;
  • authenticated minutes and resolutions; and
  • secure archival preservation of records.

Electronic participation does not itself confer authority upon the Conference or transform its resolutions into binding legal instruments. The authority of any resolution derives from the Conference’s constitutive mandate, the powers delegated to representatives, the procedures adopted by participants, and the legal consequences assigned to those decisions.

Electronic form creates a means of governance; it does not create political legitimacy. Legitimacy must still arise from representation, procedure, accountability, and consent.

A Neutral Forum for Competing Constitutional Visions

The Conference’s greatest political value may lie in its capacity to provide a neutral institutional forum within which competing constitutional perspectives may coexist.

Proponents of federalism should be able to advocate federal arrangements. Advocates of confederal models should be free to advance their proposals. Proponents of independence should be equally free to argue their position. Other constitutional alternatives should likewise receive a hearing.

Participants need not agree on the destination before agreeing on the necessity of dialogue.

The Conference should therefore function as a mechanism for deliberation rather than an instrument for manufacturing consensus. Such an approach is fully consistent with the African Charter’s protections of expression, association, assembly, and participation, as well as with the broader African commitment to political pluralism, tolerance, and democratic engagement.

From Political Mobilization to Institutional Legitimacy*

Perhaps the most important lesson of the AAC experience, and one that underlies Dr. Fontem’s thesis, is that political mobilization alone is insufficient without durable institutions.

A Conference should establish procedures for representation, decision-making, accountability, succession, consultation, and review. No individual or organization should possess ownership of the collective political project.

Government appointments should not create political constituencies. Organizational changes in political strategy should not permit any single group to redefine the mandate of the broader community. Individuals are temporary custodians of political mandates; the mandate itself belongs to the people.

Institutionalization transforms political competition from a contest for personal supremacy into competition through ideas, arguments, and accountable representation. It also provides resilience against the inevitable changes in personalities and political circumstances.

The African Court Dimension

The African Court on Human and Peoples’ Rights provides an additional interpretive framework for understanding the rights implicated by the proposed Conference.

Cameroon deposited its instrument of ratification of the Protocol establishing the African Court on 17 August 2015. However, ratification of the Protocol is legally distinct from the declaration contemplated by Article 34(6) accepting the Court’s competence to receive applications directly from individuals and qualifying non-governmental organizations.

Cameroon has ratified the Protocol but has not deposited an Article 34(6) declaration. Consequently, the procedural avenues available for direct individual litigation before the Court remain limited.

This distinction is important and should not be blurred. Nevertheless, the Court’s jurisprudence remains highly persuasive in interpreting Charter rights. Decisions such as Ingabire Victoire Umuhoza v. Rwanda, Lohé Issa Konaté v. Burkina Faso, and APDH v. Côte d’Ivoire provide valuable guidance concerning freedom of expression, political participation, democratic governance, and civic space.

Conclusion

An All Southern Cameroons Conference is legally defensible and politically significant as a mechanism for peaceful association, participation, representation, and collective deliberation.

Its legal foundation lies in the African Charter’s protections of freedom of expression, association, peaceful assembly, and political participation, complemented by the Charter’s recognition of peoples’ rights and self-determination. Properly understood, self-determination includes not merely the right to advocate particular constitutional outcomes but also the right of a people collectively to deliberate concerning those outcomes.

Whether conducted physically, electronically, or through a hybrid model, a properly constituted Conference can provide a lawful and credible institutional framework for democratic engagement, provided that its procedures ensure representation, authentication, transparency, accountability, and procedural integrity.

Ultimately, the Conference’s greatest value may not lie in any specific constitutional conclusion. Its significance lies in creating a peaceful, inclusive, representative, and durable institutional space in which competing constitutional visions may be debated, political grievances articulated, and collective political agency exercised through transparent and accountable democratic processes.

‐‐———————————
McFarlane Njoh is a lawyer, social justice advocate and legal and political analyst


Footnotes

  1. African Charter on Human and Peoples’ Rights, adopted 27 June 1981, OAU Doc. CAB/LEG/67/3 rev. 5, arts. 9, 10, 11, 13, 19 and 20.
  2. African Charter, art. 9.
  3. African Charter, art. 10.
  4. African Charter, art. 11.
  5. African Charter, art. 13.
  6. Sir Dawda K. Jawara v. The Gambia, Communications Nos. 147/95 and 149/96 (African Commission on Human and Peoples’ Rights, 11 May 2000), finding violations of, inter alia, Articles 9, 10, 11 and 20 of the African Charter.
  7. Ibid.
  8. Constitutional Rights Project, Civil Liberties Organisation and Media Rights Agenda v. Nigeria, Communications Nos. 140/94, 141/94 and 145/95 (African Commission on Human and Peoples’ Rights).
  9. African Charter, arts. 19 and 20.
  10. African Charter, art. 20(1).
  11. The African Commission has consistently interpreted the Charter as protecting both individual and collective dimensions of political participation and self-determination. See generally Katangese Peoples’ Congress v. Zaire, Communication No. 75/92 (African Commission on Human and Peoples’ Rights).
  12. African Charter, art. 13.
  13. Ingabire Victoire Umuhoza v. Rwanda, Application No. 003/2014, African Court on Human and Peoples’ Rights, Judgment of 24 November 2017, holding that restrictions on political expression must satisfy requirements of legality, necessity and proportionality.
  14. Ibid.
  15. Lohé Issa Konaté v. Burkina Faso, Application No. 004/2013, African Court on Human and Peoples’ Rights, Judgment of 5 December 2014.
  16. Ibid.
  17. Social and Economic Rights Action Center (SERAC) and Center for Economic and Social Rights v. Nigeria, Communication No. 155/96 (African Commission on Human and Peoples’ Rights).
  18. African Charter on Democracy, Elections and Governance, adopted 30 January 2007, arts. 2, 3 and 27.
  19. Ibid., arts. 2 and 3.
  20. Ibid., art. 27.
  21. African Charter, arts. 10 and 11.
  22. Law No. 2010/021 of 21 December 2010 Regulating Electronic Commerce in Cameroon, particularly arts. 9 and 10.
  23. Law No. 2010/013 of 21 December 2010 Governing Electronic Communications in Cameroon.
  24. Law No. 2010/021, arts. 9–10.
  25. African Charter, arts. 9, 10, 11 and 13.
  26. Protocol to the African Charter on Human and Peoples’ Rights on the Establishment of an African Court on Human and Peoples’ Rights, adopted 9 June 1998, art. 34(6).
  27. The Republic of Cameroon deposited its instrument of ratification of the Protocol on 17 August 2015. The African Court’s official records indicate that Cameroon has ratified the Protocol but has not made the declaration contemplated by Article 34(6) permitting direct access by individuals and qualifying NGOs.
  28. Protocol Establishing the African Court, art. 34(6).
  29. Actions pour la Protection des Droits de l’Homme (APDH) v. Côte d’Ivoire, Application No. 001/2014, African Court on Human and Peoples’ Rights, Judgment of 18 November 2016.
  30. See generally Jawara v. The Gambia; Ingabire Victoire Umuhoza v. Rwanda; Lohé Issa Konaté v. Burkina Faso; and APDH v. Côte d’Ivoire.
  31. See Antonio Cassese, Self-Determination of Peoples: A Legal Reappraisal (Cambridge University Press, 1995); James Crawford, The Creation of States in International Law, 2nd ed. (Oxford University Press, 2006). These authorities distinguish between the principle of self-determination and the separate question of whether a particular people possess a legal entitlement to external self-determination in the form of statehood or secession.

Lessons from Ambazonian History – Fontem Neba

Featured

HOW ELITE COMPETITION AND CO-OPTATION WRECKED THE SOUTHERN CAMEROONS’ QUEST FOR INSTITUTIONAL CHANGE

— Lessons for the Present Generation

Fontem Neba, PhD
(Scholar, Critic & Political and Civil Rights Advocate)

Abstract
The political crisis and armed conflict in the former British Southern Cameroons cannot be understood solely through the events of 2016. Its deeper roots lie partly in the failure of political elites during the democratic opening of the 1990s to consolidate the unity of purpose demonstrated by the All Anglophone Conferences of 1993 and 1994. This essay argues that regional elite competition, political co-optation, and the proliferation of organizations such as SWELA, NOWELA, and NOCUDA weakened the collective pursuit of institutional change. Rather than building durable institutions capable of protecting the common interests of the people, influential politicians increasingly competed for access, appointments, resources, and recognition from the central government. The resulting NW–SW divide weakened collective bargaining and allowed longstanding grievances to fester.

The argument does not suggest that every regional organization was inherently illegitimate or that every individual associated with these organizations shared identical motives. Rather, it examines the political consequences of a process in which regional and personal advancement increasingly competed with the broader collective institutional project. The naming of actors is therefore intentional. It is not intended for public lynching, vendetta, or retrospective punishment, but to establish the historical record and allow future generations to examine the decisions, relationships, and political choices that shaped the course of Southern Cameroons history.

Introduction
The contemporary crisis in the former British Southern Cameroons did not emerge suddenly in 2016. Its roots extend through decades of unresolved constitutional grievances, political marginalization, institutional weakness, elite competition, and the inability of the state to establish a durable political settlement acceptable to the people of the former British territory. The events of 2016 should therefore be understood not simply as the beginning of the crisis but as the dramatic eruption of wounds that had been allowed to fester for decades.
One of the most consequential periods in this history was the political opening of the 1990s. The return of competitive politics created an opportunity for Anglophones to articulate their grievances collectively. The All Anglophone Conference in Buea in 1993, commonly referred to as AAC I, and the second conference in Bamenda in 1994, AAC II, represented an extraordinary moment of cross-regional political mobilization. AAC I brought together representatives from across the Anglophone territory to formulate a common position on constitutional reform, while AAC II sought to carry that process forward after the constitutional reform process had stalled.

North Westerners and South Westerners demonstrated that regional identity did not necessarily have to prevent collective political action. They could retain their distinct regional identities while recognizing that their shared institutional interests required a common political strategy.

The tragedy was that this unity of purpose was not consolidated into a durable institutional structure. Instead, sections of the political elite increasingly pursued regional organizations, personal political advancement, access to the central government, and competition for state resources. SWELA, NOWELA, and NOCUDA became associated with an increasingly regionalized political environment. The problem was not the mere existence of regional organizations. South Westerners and North Westerners had legitimate interests that deserved representation. The problem emerged when regional political competition began to displace the broader institutional project.

The central government also had a profound interest in preventing the emergence of a unified political movement capable of sustaining pressure for constitutional change. The mobilization and political awareness generated by AAC I and AAC II demonstrated the capacity of the population to organize across regional lines. That development could not have been comfortable for a highly centralized regime. It is therefore not surprising that CPDM stalwarts within the Southern Cameroons became important actors in the political response to this mobilization. Contemporary accounts of the period describe attempts by regime-aligned actors to distance regional constituencies from the AAC process and opposition to the consolidation of the movement.

The central argument of this essay is therefore that the institutional opportunity created by AAC I and AAC II was progressively weakened when regional competition, elite ambition, and state co-optation displaced the collective pursuit of structural political reform. What had briefly become a common Southern Cameroons political project increasingly became a competition over who could secure greater access to Yaoundé, government appointments, development resources, and political influence.

This argument does not absolve the Biya regime. The central government possessed vastly greater political power and bears primary responsibility for maintaining the centralized system, resisting meaningful constitutional reform, using co-optation as a political instrument, exploiting political divisions, and ultimately responding to renewed Anglophone grievances with repression. But political power does not remove the responsibility of those who claimed to represent the people. Political elites also possessed agency, and their choices had consequences.

The purpose of identifying individual political actors is not public lynching, vendetta, or retrospective punishment. Political history cannot be adequately understood through an anonymous reference to “the elite.” Identifiable individuals occupied positions of influence, founded or promoted organizations, accepted government appointments, interacted with the regime, and participated in political processes whose consequences affected the population. Those facts should be placed before the historical record so that future generations can examine them honestly.

The Lost Moment of Southern Cameroons Unity
The democratic opening of the early 1990s created an opportunity that had not previously existed in the same form. Competitive politics enabled Anglophone grievances to be articulated publicly, while the emergence of the Social Democratic Front created a powerful political vehicle with particularly strong support in the North West and significant support in the South West.

For many Southern Cameroonians, the political question increasingly moved beyond individual representation within the central government. The issue became the structure of the state itself and whether the historical, legal, educational, and institutional distinctiveness of the former British Southern Cameroons could be protected.

AAC I in Buea in 1993 represented perhaps the clearest expression of this collective consciousness. Its significance was not merely that delegates adopted resolutions. Its deeper significance was that North Westerners and South Westerners demonstrated that they could formulate a common political position despite their regional differences. The Buea Declaration was explicitly concerned with adopting a common Anglophone position on constitutional reform.
The conference therefore created something politically important: a common platform through which institutional grievances could be presented as collective grievances rather than as competing regional demands.

AAC II in Bamenda in 1994 sought to consolidate that achievement. The conference considered the stalled constitutional reform process and the execution of the mandate given to the Standing Committee by AAC I. It subsequently reorganized the institutional structure for pursuing the constitutional agenda.

At this point, the central challenge was no longer simply mobilizing the population. It was building an institution strong enough to maintain collective political action. Such an institution could have accommodated legitimate regional differences while preserving a common negotiating position. South Westerners could have demanded safeguards against North West domination, while North Westerners could have demanded corresponding safeguards against South West domination. The answer to regional insecurity could have been institutional design rather than political fragmentation.

Instead, the emerging unity was progressively weakened. Constitutional reform, federalism, institutional guarantees, and collective political rights were increasingly overtaken by regional competition. What had initially been a difference between two regions within a common political community increasingly became a political cleavage that could be exploited by politicians and the central government alike.

SWELA and the South West Elite
The emergence of the South West Elites Association, SWELA, must be understood within this environment. The principal South Westerners associated with fostering SWELA included David M. Iyok, Abraham T. Enaw, Chief Emmanuel Tabe Egbe, Ephraim Inoni, and Chief Fomenky. Their concerns did not arise from nowhere. Many South Western elites believed that the political ascendancy of the North West, particularly through the growing influence of the SDF, could result in South West interests being subordinated.

Regional organization was therefore understandable. The problem was not the desire of South Westerners to organize. The problem emerged when regional organization became increasingly disconnected from the wider institutional struggle. Instead of asking how South West interests could be constitutionally protected within a collective Southern Cameroonian framework, political competition increasingly centered on who could obtain greater influence within the central state.

David M. Iyok played an important role in mobilizing South West elites around the creation of SWELA. Chief Emmanuel Tabi Egbe provided an important social and institutional base for the organization’s early activities, while Abraham T. Enaw and other prominent professionals participated in the effort. Ephraim Inoni was also associated with the mobilization of the South West elite network.

The subsequent political trajectories of several actors illustrate how regional elite organizations became intertwined with the state. Peter Agbor Tabi became Minister of Higher Education in 1994 after an earlier career in academia and administration. Ephraim Inoni, who was associated with SWELA, occupied senior governmental positions, including Secretary of State for Finance, before becoming Deputy Secretary-General at the Presidency and eventually Prime Minister in 2004. John Ebong Ngolle also occupied important administrative and governmental positions. Caven Nnoko Mbele and other South West figures became part of the broader political establishment, while traditional authorities such as Samuel Endeley and Victor Mukete possessed considerable political influence.

These careers do not by themselves establish a single motive among all the actors involved. Their significance lies in demonstrating the mechanism through which the central government could incorporate influential regional elites. Political inclusion occurred at the level of individuals while the institutional grievances of the population remained unresolved. A region could therefore gain ministers, senior administrators, and access to the Presidency without gaining enforceable constitutional guarantees.

Peter Agbor Tabi’s career is particularly illustrative because his government position placed him at the intersection of regional institutional interests and central state authority. Ephraim Inoni’s trajectory is equally significant. His rise from involvement in elite mobilization to the highest levels of government demonstrated that a Southern Cameroonian politician could achieve considerable personal political advancement without the fundamental constitutional question being resolved.

The distinction is important: representation in government could produce visibility and individual influence without necessarily producing institutional empowerment for the population.

NOWELA, NOCUDA, and the North West Political Response
The North West followed a comparable trajectory and fell in the SWELA trap. NOWELA, the North West Elites Association, emerged as a regional counterpart within the broader process of elite organization. Its development reflected legitimate concerns among North West elites about political representation, regional influence, and the changing balance between the two Anglophone regions.

Again, regional organization itself was not inherently destructive. The difficulty was that regional organizations developed at a time when the collective Anglophone political project remained fragile. Rather than strengthening a common institutional structure capable of accommodating regional interests, competing organizations increasingly became instruments through which each region sought to secure its own position.

NOCUDA was equally significant in the fragmentation of the collective project. Its intervention in the period surrounding AAC I and AAC II is important because it occurred at precisely the moment when Anglophone unity was being constructed. The political intervention associated with NOCUDA sought to dissociate the North West from the Anglophone Conference and portray the conference as essentially a South West initiative. Such activity contributed to the political environment in which AAC II faced opposition.

The broader political context is important. AAC I had explicitly presented itself as a rejection of the North West/South West dichotomy and called for Anglophones to resist attempts to divide them. Beads of Memory The emergence of regional elite organizations in opposition to that collective political direction therefore had consequences beyond ordinary elite association.

Simon Achidi Achu became the most visible symbol of North West access to the central state when he became Prime Minister in 1992. His appointment was historically significant and demonstrated that an Anglophone, and specifically a North Westerner, could occupy one of the highest political offices in Cameroon. Yet the appointment also reinforced the logic of elite representation as a substitute for institutional reform.
The broader North West political network included senior officials such as Peter Abety, John Niba Ngu, Francis Nkwain, and Samuel Ngeh Tamfu, among others through whom the regime could demonstrate inclusion. Their individual political careers varied, and they should not all be treated as having identical ideological positions. Their significance lies in the wider political structure: the regime possessed a sufficiently deep pool of Anglophone elites from which it could recruit ministers, governors, diplomats, administrators, and other officials.
The result was a political system in which the President could answer a collective demand for institutional recognition by pointing to individuals appointed to important positions. The implicit message was that Anglophones were not excluded because Anglophones occupied high office.

But representation at the level of individuals was not equivalent to institutional protection for the population. A community could have ministers and still lack meaningful constitutional guarantees. It could have a Prime Minister and still have no effective mechanism for determining the distribution of political authority. It could have governors and senior administrators and still remain dependent upon presidential discretion.

The importance of this episode is not that NOCUDA alone destroyed Anglophone unity. The fragmentation was the product of a wider political process involving regional competition, regime strategy, elite ambitions, and institutional weakness. Its significance is that it demonstrated how quickly a common political project could be reframed as a regional contest.

When Peter Mafany Musonge, a South Westerner, succeeded Achidi Achu as Prime Minister in 1996, the regional balance shifted again. From a regional political perspective, this could be interpreted as a South West victory. But from the perspective of institutional change, little had fundamentally changed. The occupant of the office had changed; the constitutional structure remained.

This alternating pattern illustrated the fundamental weakness of elite politics. North Westerners could celebrate a North Westerner in the Prime Minister’s office. South Westerners could celebrate the subsequent appointment of a South Westerner. But ordinary citizens continued to depend upon presidential appointments rather than enforceable institutional guarantees. Their children could not accede to their dream positions without the intercession of these politicians turned gatekeepers. So, the common people remained marginalized, unemployed, and deprived while the politicians fed fat.

Co-optation and the Politics of Access
The Biya regime proved highly effective at managing political dissent through a combination of repression, patronage, appointments, and co-optation. Co-optation did not necessarily require every politician to become an enthusiastic supporter of the regime. It worked by creating incentives for influential individuals to participate in the existing political system and by making personal access to the Presidency more politically valuable than collective bargaining.

The system was particularly effective because it could recognize Southern Cameroonian individuals while refusing to recognize the full institutional claims of the Southern Cameroons population. A Prime Minister could be presented as evidence of national inclusion. A minister could demonstrate regional representation. A governor could demonstrate administrative participation. A senior official at the Presidency could demonstrate that Southern Cameroonians had access to the highest circles of government.

But elite representation is not the same as institutional empowerment. A community may have ministers and governors and still lack effective constitutional protection. It may have senior officials and still have no meaningful mechanism through which citizens can hold government accountable. It may have powerful politicians and still depend upon the goodwill of those politicians to obtain public services.

This distinction explains why elite competition was so damaging. Politicians increasingly competed for access to the very state whose institutional structure the population wanted changed. Once personal access became politically valuable, collective bargaining became more difficult. A unified Anglophone institution could demand structural reform. Competing elites could instead negotiate separately for appointments, development projects, influence, and recognition.

The regime consequently did not need to defeat every Southern Cameroonian political leader. It needed only to make individual political advancement sufficiently attractive to weaken collective action.

The Consequences for Ordinary People
The consequences of this political fragmentation were not merely abstract. Ordinary citizens experienced the effects through weakened institutions, unequal development, declining trust, and the absence of durable mechanisms for addressing longstanding grievances. Regional associations could mobilize scholarships, development projects, cultural programmes, and assistance to communities. These achievements should not be dismissed. The organizations could and did provide benefits to individuals.

Yet there is a fundamental distinction between benefits delivered through patronage and rights protected by institutions. A politician who obtains a road for a community through personal access may help that community, but the arrangement does not guarantee that the next community will receive similar treatment, nor that the road will be maintained after the politician leaves power.

A scholarship obtained through an elite network assists the beneficiary who receives it but can also reinforce dependence upon political access. A ministerial appointment may give a region visibility, but it does not provide constitutional protection. The common man was therefore encouraged to look toward the politician who could “take the problem to Yaoundé” rather than toward institutions through which citizens could demand that the problem be addressed as a matter of right. Such an arrangement might produce an individual road, scholarship, appointment, or government intervention, but it did not create equal opportunities for all or durable institutional guarantees.

Viewed specifically through the question of collective institutional change, the political effect of SWELA, NOWELA, and NOCUDA was therefore NEGATIVE, notwithstanding whatever developmental or representational benefits they may have provided.

The Emergence of the NW–SW Divide
The NW–SW divide did not emerge simply because North Westerners and South Westerners possessed different identities. Those differences had existed long before the 1990s without preventing collective Anglophone political mobilization.

The divide became politically consequential when regional differences were increasingly transformed into competing political constituencies. The population was gradually encouraged to view political success through a regional lens. Which region had more ministers? Which region controlled more administrative positions? Which region had greater influence in the Presidency? Which region benefited more from state resources?

These questions increasingly displaced the larger question: What institutions should protect all of us?
This was one of the most consequential effects of elite competition. AAC I and AAC II had demonstrated that the two regions could act together. Regional political competition demonstrated that they could also be separated.

The consequences continued long after the original political actors had moved into different positions or even left the stage. Distrust accumulated. Historical grievances were reinterpreted through regional narratives. Political competition acquired a social dimension, making it increasingly difficult to restore the kind of common institutional purpose that had characterized the AAC period. |

By the time teachers, lawyers, students, civil society organizations, and ordinary citizens returned to the streets in 2016, the institutional capacity that might have enabled a peaceful collective response had been greatly weakened. The grievances had not disappeared. They had accumulated beneath the surface.

The Cost of Losing the AAC Opportunity
It cannot be established with certainty that a different political course in the 1990s would have prevented the armed conflict that emerged decades later. The Biya regime possessed enormous political power and could have rejected federalism or other reforms even in the face of a united Southern Cameroons movement. Nevertheless, there are strong grounds for arguing that the political trajectory could have been different.
AAC I and AAC II generated an unusual level of political mobilization and awareness. They brought North Westerners and South Westerners together around common constitutional grievances and demonstrated that the population could act collectively across regional boundaries. This development inevitably alarmed a regime committed to preserving the centralized order. It is therefore not surprising that the ruling CPDM deployed its stalwarts from within the Southern Cameroons to weaken the unity created by the AAC, encourage regional divisions, and ultimately rewarded them with co-optation or access to power.

The political logic was straightforward: a unified movement capable of negotiating collectively posed a greater institutional challenge than competing regional elites negotiating separately with Yaoundé. As the collective movement weakened, individual political access became more valuable, while institutional guarantees remained elusive. Had AAC I and AAC II been consolidated into a transparent, representative, and accountable movement, it could have preserved collective bargaining, managed NW–SW differences, and prevented government appointments from becoming substitutes for constitutional reform.

The counterfactual argument is not that unity would have guaranteed peace. It is that its preservation could have strengthened peaceful political pressure and improved the prospects for a negotiated constitutional settlement. That was the historic opportunity lost.

The Moral and Philosophical Dimension
At its deepest level, this history concerns the moral obligations of political leadership.
Political authority is a form of stewardship. Leaders who claim to represent a people inherit its political capital, aspirations, trust, and collective struggles. That capital belongs to the people, not to individual politicians.
The central question is therefore whether political actors use collective resources to build institutions that endure beyond their tenure or convert them into personal influence, access, and temporary political advantage.
This distinction is particularly important where access to state resources depends upon personal relationships. A politician may secure a road, scholarship, appointment, or government intervention and thereby provide an immediate benefit. But such patronage does not create durable political rights. The stronger measure of leadership is what institutions remain after the politician leaves office.

The naming of political actors in this essay is therefore deliberate. It is not an invitation to public lynching, vendetta, or retrospective punishment. Political history requires identifiable actors, decisions, organizations, and relationships to be examined openly. The evidence should establish the historical record; the reader can draw his or her own conclusions.

Ultimately, the issue is one of collective responsibility and intergenerational stewardship: whether political leaders leave behind stronger institutions and greater political freedom, or weakened institutions and continued dependence on personal access.

Lessons for the present generation
The history of SWELA, NOWELA, and NOCUDA reveals a painful truth: a people may possess a powerful common aspiration and still lose it when their political elites place personal ambition, regional rivalry, self-seeking opportunism and access to power above institution-building. AAC I and AAC II demonstrated the possibility of Anglophone unity; what followed demonstrated how easily that unity could be fractured by elite competition and political co-optation. The Biya regime bears primary responsibility for preserving a centralized system, exploiting divisions, and leaving fundamental grievances unresolved. Yet political elites cannot escape responsibility for failing to protect the collective political capital entrusted to them.

The lesson for the next generation must therefore be uncompromising. Never again should political office be mistaken for political liberation, patronage for rights, or regional representation for institutional protection. No minister, prime minister, governor, or influential politician should become a substitute for institutions that belong to the people.

Regional identities must be respected, but never weaponized against a common purpose. Any future collective project must be built on transparency, accountability, equity, equality, and institutional safeguards capable of surviving individual ambitions. History has delivered its warning. The next generation must decide whether to inherit the politics of division or build institutions strong enough to transcend it. The true measure of leadership is not the power one acquires, but the institutions one leaves behind.

The Aftermath of Mr. Biya’s Return: A Celebration Gone Wrong

FeaturedAmbazonian Flag

After seventy-four days out of his country, or in his home country, Switzerland, Mr Biya returned to La République du Cameroun, which could be generously called his work place for his European employers. More accurately. Mr Biya “was returned”, as he could hardly have chosen to return in such poor health.

The celebration of the triumphal return back-fired as CRTV could not manage to show any images of a vibrant strong Biya to belie all the questions of the reasons for his “short personal sojourn”. They tried their best to be jubilant but they could not. The presenters were dressed as they would when the inevitable unthinkable and utterly unimaginable happens.

As it is he was returned to seclusion and is unlikely to be seen again soon, except some of his wider circle privy to too little information have got carried away and set him up to appear to “lead celebrations” of the “Lionesses’” triumph at WAFCON. The poor patient is now locked in to be wheeled out again for that chore. Someone must now be wishing the cursed “Lionesses” hadn’t won! Will he walk or will he be propped up in a chair?

Judging by the blatant filtering of the images of the “return”, the likely solution will be to restrict images. The honoured guests may have to forgo the use of their smart devices. Just like the “reassurance” that the live coverage of the “return” did not provide, the celebration of the Lionesses will, similarly “not”. As much as RDPC will want to imply that Mr Biya is putting women and youth central in his eighth mandate, the reception is going to be more of a headache than a tonic. Images could leak, and even if they don’t the images that are missing will lead to worse conclusions that any actual real images would. – and even Camerounese are not so gullible that they would attribute the “Lionesses’ ” success to any impulse from Mr Biya. It will smack instead of, for want of a better word, “recuperation”. No, not the English for getting healthier, but the French for “claiming”, which is more pejorative than the former – which could have a place in this drama.

Honesty is always the best policy.

Thank God Ambazonia left when we did! It would be intolerable to endure staged reality.

Maybe Mr Biya’s handlers could have done better staging humility – keeping the “return” as private as the sojourn should have been and only announcing he had returned once he got to the palace. Even better, stage the Lionesses reception to let the “people discovered” that he had indeed returned in a more humble sensible way, as sick man would.

But le Cameroun c’est le Cameroun and even dazzling orange dresses will not detract from reality!

Gridlock on an open road in La République du Cameroun as VP still awaited

FeaturedAmbazonian Flag

La République du Cameroun has a system in place to deal with the imminent inevitable transition. Well, not a system, a “law” or a legal device, at best, and a barely legal legal device! Could that be the reason why that device is still not being used and where did the clever idea for it come from. As La République du Cameroun remains firmly locked into an ever-decreasing circle, Ambazonia News wonders …

The advent of the post-Biya reality is pressing on La République du Cameroun. Logic would dictate that the Vice-Presidency would have been filled by now, by the obvious person for whom “Mr Biya”, or more realistically his minions of the RDPC, would have gone to the trouble of getting out-of-mandate ex-MPs to approve the creation of the VP post with the privilege of inheriting “his” hard-stolen term in office without having to earn it, has not been invested. That even though Mr Biya could/may soon be unable to lift a pen or raise his voice to execute that anointment. Why the delay?

Maybe Mr Biya has become aware that his Western mentors are not going to bring their approval to the charade. Mr. Macron may have made it known that he would not risk travelling to Yaounde to stand beside young Frank or whoever the minions hoped could provide “stability and continuity”. Much as the French would desperately want to maintain their vanishing presence in Africa, even they must surely have woken up to the reality that Africans no longer see his presence and “blessing” at an improvised illegitimate “transition” as a reason to bow to it.

It is also possible that the “governants” as the kleptocrats like to call themselves, have finally exposed their impotence in Ambazonia. After ten years of French-like genocide they have only managed to prove to Ambazonians that they have no honour or fidelity to their flag. They have killed toddlers on their way to school, massacred whole villages with children and pregnant women, arrested and “neutralized” young Ambazonians just because they were “suspected separatists”, and only proved they are the most vocal in demonstration the hollowness and utter delusion of “One Cameroun”. At once chanting it while actively proving the complete contrary!

Then there is the “delicate imbalance” within the RDPC where all sectors and regions would be questioning why it is not their turn at the chance of the high chair. Is it fair for the South to get the chair again ahead of the East?, the North?, The West? The Centre?, The Carpet bagger? The Ambazonians? Mr. Biya is no more able to fix it than “he” was before “he” ordered, more like bribed, the out-of-mandate hungry MPs to rubber-stamp his decision in a week – unlike other decisions which drag for decades. The while process only highlighted the illegitimacy and the unfair dominance of the executive over the legislature – ironically grating for a “legalist”, as certain politologs would call him! Just like the “army” proving in an Ambazonia that “One Cameroun” is a “No”, the RDPC proved in “parliament” that “Democracy and legitimacy/legality” are a “No” in La République du Cameroun. In trying to fix, the RDPC only breaks!

The unlikely kite of an Ambazonian VP was actually flown when rumours/speculation/manipulation had it that the Ambazonian President would be released and offered the post to solve, what they still call the “anglophone crisis”. As appealing as that would be as a solution, it would founder on its own lack of logic and incredibility! Why spend so much effort on genocide and then go that far in “solving” it alternatively. Why pass up the more credible opportunities of the Swiss Process and the Canadian pre-talks only to go for what would still, while apparently “internal”, a more costly solution in credibility and angst? That made no sense be was floated as a scenario. Why? Because people in La République are dumbfounded by the ineptitude of their very own RDPC and willing to reach for any kind of rationality somewhere within the kleptocracy.

RDPC politologs are also finding themselves on a sticky wicket to argue that young Frank should have an equal opportunity to be appointed VP as any other citizen! Not needed except, like all the RDPC’s solutions, it highlights the problem they have created to try to solve. In this paradox, yes he should have the same right as any other citizen (even though he does not given that “his father” is not considering another citizens) with or without equal opportunities! Even if he were, it would still be incongruous in a democratic state to use such undemocratic means to give one express person the right to impose, yes “impose” even though it is “not an imposition” as it is now legal! To maintain the balance and fairness the VP would need to be from anywhere else than the President, after all Mr Biya is most celebrated for engineering stability by distributing privileges.

The last explanation? Mr. Biya does not want to give up “his mandate” by nominating a VP, thereby announcing his imminent exit. He will wait to the “end” and hope that everyone believes he appointed a VP, which would be hardly legal given that that VP would have to go straight to President without “serving” a single day as VP! A ruse, if ever one were devised! Mandates belong to the “people”, who give them, or even have them seized, and should revert when the mandated is “indisposed”. At least the RDPC should have to steal it afresh for legality’s sake.

Who said any of this was about legality? They would like to say it, but that means they are highlighting the very illegality, or at least the illegitimacy of it! Meanwhile the clock is running down – and there will not be any additional time.

Adieux Cameroun! Welcome Ambazonia!

La République du Cameroun: le renouveau témoigne de son âge

FeaturedAmbazonian Flag

In La République du Cameroun, it is over a month since the RDPC “won” – well, that is, was declared winners of the presidential poll, by Mr Biya;s hand-picked Constitutional Council.

When Mr Biya first came in 1982, his catch phrase was “renouvea”, the French for renewal. Now ailing and decided not “new”, he is fighting the people of La République du Cameroun against “renouveau”. How ironic!

This week, in more “evidence”, for want of a better word, of the RDPC’s fight against renewal in La République du Cameroun, Mr Biya’s government has deployed military units to encircle the home of Prof Maurice Kamto, he who was pre-defeated in the infamous and embarrassing, president poll, to stop his party from … meeting. Meanwhile, propagandists of Mr Biya’s RPDC have published another precious letter of congratulations on social media to show that an important foreign country state has shown implied support for the presidential poll!

At this point, Mr Biya’s RDPC seems so desperate that they have not deemed it necessary to “renew” the inept and corrupt government which had already largely survived Mr Biya’s 2018 poll rig. The question asks itself: what is Mr Biya planning to do other than fight the citizens he promised peace to in the run up to the October 12th 2025 poll rig? No movement to start using the “mandate” to govern yet but he has resorted to calling out the armed forces to stand against “the people”!

Since the poll, some of the validator “candidates” have broken their cover and started “offering to take part in a government of national unity”. In 2018, they had carried out their task by making noises and complaints about the electoral system prior to the poll, and then quickly folding and congratulating Mr Biya after the poll rig. Even back in 2018, it was clear Libii, Osih or even Muna were not contenders but were only in for the cheques. This year, they again fulfilled the same role but, having banked the cheques, they are making overtures and angling to join the gravy train that is Mr Biya’s “government”. Poor La République du Cameroun!

It is such a good time to call oneself Ambazonian! Imagine having to admit to being from La République du Cameroun. It is time for Ambazonians to return to Complimentary Commitment to actualize their freedom. All the Ambazonians out of harms way away from ground zero should do their duty and support the brave Ambazonian Restoration Forces Plus. They can do so by getting back to their choice of Independentist Entity.

Many of the major independentist groups are signatories of the Leadership Pact, working collaboratively under the umbrella of the [Ambazonian] Consultative Commission. Ambazonia News urges Ambazonians to press their chosen groups to work more actively to remove this final humiliation of of being occupied by a lame duck RDPC which is unable even to “enjoy” its stolen election victory in their own place.

Corruption in Cameroon: The Biya Administration Exposed

FeaturedAmbazonian Flag

Mr Biya “did so swear” again. At Ambazonia News we would gladly swear that all the fingers on his obscured hand were crossed, just as they were the previous times. Legend has it that if one swears intending to dupe or lie, or not meaning it, they avert the curse if they have their fingers crossed. Ergo, Mr Biya’s fingers must have been crossed.

In his previous term, he failed to protect the any aspect of the country’s interests, instead spending vast periods of time wasting the nations resources, he could have deployed to create health facilities for the benefit of the nation, on lavish personal provision, admittedly for his health but hardly for the benefit of the nation. On the subject of health facilities, have failed to cater for the numerous women who fell victim to a corrupt and inefficient decaying health “infrastructure”.

It is common knowledge that many women “lost” their babies delivered in the system, sometimes said to have died during birth, sometimes literally “misplaced”, as in stolen from the institutions. Some were detained after “treatment”, or, more accurately, a “stay” in “hospital”, until they could cough up the fees. He did not try to provide the basic health care, a president should, who has sworn without crossed fingers.

In La République du Cameroun, under Mr Biya’s watch, it has also become normal to openly demand bribes from travelers on numerous check-points. These check points have been constant, including during all the peaceful periods, and are openly acknowledged and understood to be a racket run by the police hierarchy to supplement their pay. That means business is stifled on a daily basis. The hard-working citizens have to factor in these extra random costs which render business completely unpredictable and anything from less rewarding to pointless. When it comes to business in LRC, any operator must first become corrupt and metaphorically willing to swim in a cesspool.

As for the young who are supposed to be beneficiaries, according to Mr Biya’s latest promise, gaining admission into any public educational institution is paid for, for the lucky. The “concours” system is known to be a racket for ministers to collect huge sums to designate the “pass list” for places such as ENAM, which, unsurprisingly, produces corrupt administrators, who borrow colossal amounts to gain access to “training” and then immediately, on graduation, try to recoup their investment. Even secondary schools generally operate on a “Tchoko” system where spaces are sold.

The ENAM graduates all rely on Mr Biya for appointments.

Mr Biya’s fingers must have been crossed in 2018 as he hardly appeared during his expiring term, instead wandering the globe usually oblivious of where he was and what he was there to do and wasting resources he could have deployed to keep some of his promises – except he had crossed fingers.

Even forgetting that he did not formally declare that he was running for the latest poll, it is still odd that he did not turn up to any campaign during the process. He also left the country during the campaign to get medical treatment abroad, highlighting hi own failure and negligence to provide health care he could rely on. This fact would be political death in any other democracy, and was for Mr Biya, except it did not matter because the poll was utterly unfair.

ELECAM, the election commission is his commission of his party members. The aforementioned administrators from ENAM are all appointed by him and they are in charge of the logistics of the poll. If one could ignore the unfairness of ELECAM and the ENAM administrators, one still has to reckon with the Constitutional Council, a group of retired judges, all members of Mr Biya’s party and appointed by him!

The upshot of all these is that Mr Biya, who has failed seven times in providing for his citizens, did not formally enter the race nor campaign AND was running genocidal conflicts in parts of the country, and therefore should not have been able to stand is a very unlikely, and unbelievable “winner”. “Unbelievable” as in “lacking credibility”. There is no credibility in any idea that anyone with the flaws Mr Biya “brought” into the campaign could have won, never mind that he did not even campaign!

Unsurprisingly, the diplomatic missions in La République du Cameroun were loath to be seen at his investiture and nor did they send him any messages of congratulations on the election. The US sent a letter to congratulate Mr Biya on his investiture. The electoral charade may as well never have happened!

Mr Biya is not the only one to blame. On reflection he could be argued to be blame-free of the whole system. Clearly he did not personally “tamper” with the ballots in “North West” or “South West” or anywhere else.

The system in La République du Cameroun is as untenable, not to say intolerable, as the French system around the 1780s. As the best student of the French Mr Biya must have ways of avoiding the fate of the French system all those centuries ago.

Whether the people of of La République du Cameroun “object” or not, Mr Biya will find that time objects more and more as he tries to navigate another term of high instructions.

Ambazonia’s route

Ambazonia had a small hope of a slightly more genuine negotiated exit from the Ambazonian Liberation Struggle thanks to Mr Tchiroma’s manifesto “commitments”, even if they fell well short. As short as they fell, they went much further, and infact, out of sight of any ideas Mr Biya has postulated. It is well known that, regardless of any double-talk, Mr Biya literally offers no solution as he hopes to defeat Ambazonia’s quest for freedom. Equally, it was always virtually certain, from experience and thr RDPC’s “efforts” in the campaign that they would resort to their back-stops in the machinery and so Mr Tchiroma’s offer was only really useful for international partners to be aware that there could be an alternative solution to Mr Biya’s and the RDPC.

The reality now is as it was before the charade was entered in La République du Cameroun; we have to win our freedom. In a way, a clear and unique goal is no bad thing and the charade has blown many entities’ cover as well, further distilling the Ambazonian camp to the truest independentists. The truest independentists with experience and stronger arguments to present to any international partners of good will.

The truest independentists with clear sight of the fifth columnist who defied shame and indignity to operate the RDPC’s fraud machines purportedly from Ambazonian soil. Their day is coming.

Ambazonia’s day is imminent.

The watch words are “Daring Move”, “Action and Accountability”, “Complimentary Commitment” and “Building Bridges”.

The Most High God is the Watchman of Ambazonia