At the end of March 2010, my family got the news that my father had passed away. That was five years ago. My senior half-sister from the same father, sent a text message to my younger sister, Egbe that our father had passed away. Egbe then called me and informed me of our father's demise. At that time I was living in the state of Maryland and was working for a security company that had a contract with the National Institute of Health(NIH) which is located in Bethesda, Maryland. It was around 6 pm in the evening when I received that phone call. The sun was still shining brightly. After the call, I was so shocked that I didn’t believe what I heard. I was in total denial. My friends and co-workers could tell something was not right the moment they saw my face. My fellow countrymen, co-workers and friends, helped to reduce my stress by talking about the loss of their own fathers. From the beginning of the conversation to the end of that work day we spoke about the trauma of loosing a father. Those stories helped to comfort me from being too badly affected by the news.
My father was put in the mortuary for about a month, a decision made by my aunt, the younger sister of my father. On April 4, I travelled to Cameroon with my mother and younger sister Egbe. Before travelling to Cameroon, a wake keeping was done in Maryland by my mother, my younger sister, and I. My Aunt Edith, my father’s younger sister, did another wake keeping in Maryland at her own house, alone, without us. By this, you can already tell that the family was not united,we had family problems.
We arrived in Cameroon, in Douala on a Monday night. The flight took 2 days, from Maryland, U.S.A to France and from France to Douala, the commercial town of Cameroon. The distance from U.S.A to Cameroon is 5,841 mi. Just by the intense hot air, I could tell that we had landed in Cameroon. The journey to Cameroon was a sad but exciting one because we had not been home since we left in June 1999. As we came out of the airport in Douala, there was a crowd of people made up of children and adults rushing toward us, aggressively taking our bags towards the taxis. They did this because they wanted us to pay them some money. This is how some people survive in Cameroon. We were so shocked by how people struggled to survive because this was not how it was when we left Cameroon in June1999. The journey from the airport after landing required a taxi from Douala town to Limbe town. It was already dark and the time was about 7:30 pm. I, my mother and sister took a taxi to Limbe. The roads from Douala to Limbe were not that bad. There were some potholes on the road but it was pretty much a smooth ride.
After arriving in Limbe, we met my mother’s sisters, brothers and grandmother, my mother’s mother. My mother comes from a very big family. My grandmother on my mother’s side had her first child with another man before marrying my grandfather. My mother is a twin and the first child from my grandfather but not the first child to my grandmother. My grandfather had 14 children with my grandmother. In Limbe, we met our uncles and aunties. We stayed at my uncle’s, my mother’s twin brother’s house in Limbe.
After being in Limbe for a few days, a day was decided to take my father out from the mortuary. My aunt, my father’s younger sister named Edith made the decision on which day my father was to be taken from the mortuary. On the day many problems arouse, which left many people standing outside of the mortuary. People who came to see my father's corpse were stranded outside because money had not being paid to the morgue which meant my father’s body had not been prepared to be seen in the public. People were waiting for about 3 to 5 hours outside the morgue. Some people even left after waiting for an hour or two.After we successfully took my father’s body out of the mortuary, I saw my father for the first time after 6 years.Looking at his body touching his face and his chest, I was so shocked at what I saw. My father was an average man, about 5 feet 9 inches in height and weighed about 180lbs to 190lbs but I was looking pretty much at a skeleton of my father. He looked like he had suffered from lack of malnutrition. He was less than a 100lbs.
After his body was removed from the mortuary, we had a wake keeping at my aunt’s house in Limbe. The house was filled with people drinking and talking about my father’s life. My father laid in the coffin but we could see him since the top section of the coffin was transparent. My grandmother, my father’s mother was drinking a lot. She loves drinking; she even spoke in the traditional language saying “my father has died so that she could receive wine from people”.
After the wake keeping, early in the morning we journeyed from Limbe which is in South West province of Cameroon to my father’s village called Ewelle where my father was to be buried. The journey to Ewelle village was difficult because the roads leading to the village were not so good, but it was in the dry season which meant no rain. Cameroon has two seasons, the dry season and the raining season. The roads are worst in the raining season. After arriving in the village at noon, we met my father’s extended family. My mother’s brothers and sisters journeyed with us. We met my father’s uncles, aunts and cousins.
My father was buried the following day in the morning next to my father’s aunt's grave which is in front of my grandfather’s house.As the first son, I was required to give a speech as my father was being laid in the ground, my mother was also required to give a speech. After my father was laid to the ground, in the evening there was a big celebration. There was music and dancing. One of my extended family members from my father’s side, asked me to dance with her, which I did. The people were very happy to see me dance.
The following morning a family meeting was called to resolve all the family problems between my aunts and my mother. My father had three sisters; Edith, Constance and Bessem. My grandmother, my father’s mother had all her four children with different men. Which means each child including my father has a different father. Aunty Bessem was the kind one. My father spoke nicely about her, she gave me a hug so tightly I could not breathe and she was crying with me. My father called Constance the devil of the family. There was a big issue surrounding the death of my father. My aunts were accusing my mother of being responsible for the death of my father but my aunt Constance said my father’s mother and Edith were responsible for the death of my father. My father’s extended family tried to make peace within the family but that was impossible because my aunt Constance whom my father called the devil of the family said “since the bond which held them to each other is no longer alive; it is best to stay separate.” After the family meeting I, my mother, sister and my mother’s brothers and sisters left to my mother’s village called Nfuni. The examination of one's life leads to knowledge and wisdom.
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