“Di com rom di bush” is Cameroonian pidgin for “they come from the bush”. “Bush fella” is the name given to Cameroonians (and sometimes foreigners) that have returned from the West.In fact, contrary to what it might sound, coming from the 'bush' is not pejorative. In pidgin 'bush' symbolizes plenitude and wealth. That is to say, it evokes a long relationship Cameroonians have had with the tropical rainforest. Today, however for those who live in the country’s polluted economic centre, urban decay overrides all notion of bounty that the rainforest might have once congealed. Take Douala for example, a densely populated, rotting, urban-industrial island in a lush sea of rainforest. It is hard to imagine that this city is indeed the economic heartbeat of the nation —a life generator that on the inside looks polluted and sick.
In Douala, for those gifted with a developed olfactory, and I suppose, also those with an equally developed appetite; a vaguely familiar aroma may be all that is left to remind them of the 'bush'. Bush meat (roasted in the open air shelters of the quartier) is a high-end delicacy to nouveau-rich metropolitan elite. Though illegal, gourmet rainforest porcupine and macaque bear one of the few errant reminders that commercial cities like Douala are merely islands, urban specs in a much more expansive tropical sea. Although a large proportion of this metropolitan wealth bares the hallmark of tropical cocoa and rubber plantations not too far from the smoggy horizon of Douala, the bush no longer quite inhabits the psyche of Cameroonians as something that serves them. Whilst the appetite for bush meat may still be local, the 'bush' lies elsewhere. It has come to symbolize a modernity that has yet to reach Cameroonians.In the streets of Douala, perhaps even more so for those whom toil in its poverty, there is widespread sentiment that the local 'bush' has failed them. Indeed, it has failed to deliver the security and prosperity, material and immaterial they imagine in the West.As an outsider I find it puzzling but not surprising that the 'bush' has lost its significance as provider and that it has come to symbolize something entirely different.
With soaring unemployment and with the state the largest employer, nepotism and corruption in Cameroon make an already dyer situation seem bleaker. There is no obvious plenitude here and after speaking with a local barrister perhaps even less justice. He confessed to me that the sole most cardinal element in a judge’s verdict is the sum of his “token”, that is to say, his bribe. I followed barrister Makia to the local magistrate that day. He was defending a wealthy woman whose uninsured driver had accidentally killed a man along the roadside. Under the law she faced a costly compensation and even incarceration. To the court's dismay, barister Makia was unprepared. We had rushed from his practice to make an extravagant late entrance. The court proceedings had already commenced and barrister Makia was without diary, pen or his client’s portfolio. He was incoherent and in a boyish way, quite pleased with his performance. The court session lasted under ten minutes, Makia’s client was absent, his arguments were weak and the plaintive was never given the opportunity to speak. Pleasantries were exchanged between council and barister Makia. The magistrate humored by it all. The court adjourned only to postpone the ruling to a later date, that is, for the sixth time. There was no justice that day. “She will have to pay” said to me barrister Makia “we must make sure it gets settled out of court.” Indeed, proceedings cost money, the longer the delay the more costly it becomes for the plaintive and the more pressure for him or her to settle out of court at a fraction of what would be owed to them.
I myself was on the verge of exploding. I can only imagine the plaintiff's family. There was no plenitude or justice, indeed, only a sense of failure. Even for a “bush fella” like me. Barrister Makia and I ate porcupine together later that evening. My dish tasted bitter.
Wednesday 12 May 2010
Note to the unlucky traveler: How not to travel.
DO NOT…
1. travel when you are already experiencing advanced sleep deprivation 2. miss your connecting flight at Heathrow Airport 3. buy the cheapest flight: that is to say, if one can avoid 4-overs and 27hrs of flying… 4. eat the “Fish Special” on Ethiopian Airlines… 5. trust your airline to deliver your luggage to your final destination 6. leave your malaria tablets in your luggage that will have been lost 7. and lastly, have your gmail account hacked when you need it the most!
RRRRR..! I hate Heathrow, only four hours left before my connecting flight! Give me a few days to build ya'll a blog worth visiting. Chat to you again from Kumba, Cameroon.
