We are all in Walthamstow
All the way from Brixton
We came earlier this morning
We cameby ourselves
No husbands, no wives, no children
We came, tired of all the lame excuses
So, dear, while we are here for the day
Let’s also hand over all our late night bosses.
Would you care for a buffet?
Or would you rather still pout and sulk?
If you are offered the red turrets
Please, take them only in bulk.
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This space is too small
So, for God’s sake, hold your fire!
If the Lord Mayor wants his ball
Then by all means, send it on an electrified wire.
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The issue is a very intriguing one. It begs the question as to whether a people are shaped by the territorial borders that bind them together. In other words, does the American, or the French, or the German or even the Cameroonian behave in a way that typically characterizes his or her nation?
I suppose that in the case of America for example, the question of State borders does get relegated to second place – or perhaps not – as it is overarched, dwarfed and superseded by federal considerations. Whatever is the case, Cameroon as a case in point must raise special eyebrows because of its rather unusual complex configuration.
Not only does Cameroon use two official languages whereas most countries use one, but it also has over 230 languages of its own. Do not confuse languages with dialects. The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, cited by Laura Lawless, defines a dialect as “a regional or social variety of a language distinguished by pronunciation, grammar, or vocabulary, especially a variety differing from the standard literary language or speech pattern of the culture in which it exists.” As far as “a language” is concerned, a number of sources define it in relation to “language”, which means something different. The <freedictionary.com> says, about the two, for instance: “a. Communication of thoughts and feelings through a system of arbitrary signals, such as voice sounds, gestures, or written symbols. b. Such a system including its rules for combining its components, such as words’ c. Such a system as used by a nation, people, or other distinct community; often contrasted with dialect.”
The situation in Cameroon is compounded by the many ethnic (some would say, tribal) groupings we have. So whereas in Nigeria, scholars can talk of a few “dominant” or “majority” groups such as the Fulani/Hausa, the Igbo and the Yoruba, in Cameroon, we have many more than those: Fulani/Hausa and other northern Sahelian families, the Bamileke, the Dualas, the Betis, the Bassas, the Bamums etc. If we add the Anglophone/Francophone divide to all of those, then the dish really does become composite.
A closer look at the last named category can be illuminating because its coverage or impact is national – or ought to be. So the question is: Is the Cameroonian Anglophone person different in behaviour from his Francophone brother or sister? When one traces the genesis to where the British and French stepped into our country and divided us among themselves, one can affirm that the Anglophones picked up “British” habits and the Francophones picked up “French” habits. One school of thought views the British as being conservative exclusive and stingy, whereas the French are seen as progressive, inclusive and generous.
My personal observation has led me to that conclusion. So while a Francophone boss receives a subordinate who wakes him at night with an urgent family problem and reacts sympathetically and helps out financially, the Anglophone boss will be less helpful and as the employee leaves, the former will call him back and remind him that the money given is “a loan”. Then he will add: “Don’t let me run after you for it!” The Francophone boss, on the other hand, gives generously but apologetically and says: “Use this for now. If you need further assistance, don’t hesitate to come back!”
Watch us Anglophone elite at fundraising events. We usually do not give much, comparatively. When we invite journalists to cover an event, we always think of “reducing” the number of those to be invited. Sometimes we decide that there is no need to invite them because “It will cost too much money”. Even when we pay their mission allowances – after arguing that they should not be paid in the first place – we do not disburse all of it. When we are appointed to top posts, one of the first things we do is to reduce contact with our own people. We avoid them even when they come right to our offices and homes. It has been observed that if you really need assistance, go to a Francophone and he will help you faster. If you go to the Anglophone, he will not say “yes”, neither will he say “no”. He will simply keep you hanging on the line until you give up and “get the hell out of here!”
While the Francophone boss boasts that he has a child who has left EMIA and another who is in IRIC, his Anglophone counterpart will say he has two in America, one in Britain and another in Germany.
In fact, this kind of behaviour has made me coin the expression that “while the Francophone is looking for a pretext to give, the Anglophone is looking for an excuse not to give!”
That is my view. What is yours?
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The issue is a very intriguing one. It begs the question as to whether a people are shaped by the territorial borders that bind them together. In other words, does the American, or the French, or the German or even the Cameroonian behave in a way that typically characterizes his or her nation?
I suppose that in the case of America for example, the question of State borders does get relegated to second place – or perhaps not – as it is overarched, dwarfed and superseded by federal considerations. Whatever is the case, Cameroon as a case in point must raise special eyebrows because of its rather unusual complex configuration.
Not only does Cameroon use two official languages whereas most countries use one, but it also has over 230 languages of its own. Do not confuse languages with dialects. The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, cited by Laura Lawless, defines a dialect as “a regional or social variety of a language distinguished by pronunciation, grammar, or vocabulary, especially a variety differing from the standard literary language or speech pattern of the culture in which it exists.” As far as “a language” is concerned, a number of sources define it in relation to “language”, which means something different. The <freedictionary.com> says, about the two, for instance: “a. Communication of thoughts and feelings through a system of arbitrary signals, such as voice sounds, gestures, or written symbols. b. Such a system including its rules for combining its components, such as words’ c. Such a system as used by a nation, people, or other distinct community; often contrasted with dialect.”
The situation in Cameroon is compounded by the many ethnic (some would say, tribal) groupings we have. So whereas in Nigeria, scholars can talk of a few “dominant” or “majority” groups such as the Fulani/Hausa, the Igbo and the Yoruba, in Cameroon, we have many more than those: Fulani/Hausa and other northern Sahelian families, the Bamileke, the Dualas, the Betis, the Bassas, the Bamums etc. If we add the Anglophone/Francophone divide to all of those, then the dish really does become composite.
A closer look at the last named category can be illuminating because its coverage or impact is national – or ought to be. So the question is: Is the Cameroonian Anglophone person different in behaviour from his Francophone brother or sister? When one traces the genesis to where the British and French stepped into our country and divided us among themselves, one can affirm that the Anglophones picked up “British” habits and the Francophones picked up “French” habits. One school of thought views the British as being conservative exclusive and stingy, whereas the French are seen as progressive, inclusive and generous.
My personal observation has led me to that conclusion. So while a Francophone boss receives a subordinate who wakes him at night with an urgent family problem and reacts sympathetically and helps out financially, the Anglophone boss will be less helpful and as the employee leaves, the former will call him back and remind him that the money given is “a loan”. Then he will add: “Don’t let me run after you for it!” The Francophone boss, on the other hand, gives generously but apologetically and says: “Use this for now. If you need further assistance, don’t hesitate to come back!”
Watch us Anglophone elite at fundraising events. We usually do not give much, comparatively. When we invite journalists to cover an event, we always think of “reducing” the number of those to be invited. Sometimes we decide that there is no need to invite them because “It will cost too much money”. Even when we pay their mission allowances – after arguing that they should not be paid in the first place – we do not disburse all of it. When we are appointed to top posts, one of the first things we do is to reduce contact with our own people. We avoid them even when they come right to our offices and homes. It has been observed that if you really need assistance, go to a Francophone and he will help you faster. If you go to the Anglophone, he will not say “yes”, neither will he say “no”. He will simply keep you hanging on the line until you give up and “get the hell out of here!”
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While the Francophone boss boasts that he has a child who has left EMIA and another who is in IRIC, his Anglophone counterpart will say he has two in America, one in Britain and another in Germany.
In fact, this kind of behaviour has made me coin the expression that “while the Francophone is looking for a pretext to give, the Anglophone is looking for an excuse not to give!”
That is my view. What is yours?
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By Tikum Mbah Azonga
1. DEBUNKING THE MYTH ABOUT POETRY
Poetry is neither mysterious nor difficult. Anyone can write a poem. It is not necessary to be a Literature student to be able to write a poem. After all, we hear and use poetry daily! We read poetry in the Bible and in the Quran! We hear it in songs!
2. WHAT TO WRITE ABOUT
We are surrounded by a thousand and one potential subjects that could be used to write poetry. Things happen around us daily: births, deaths, illnesses, marriages, baptisms, confirmations, travel, traditional rites, religious ceremonies, political actions, educational matters, village affairs, family issues, diplomacy and international relations. At a more restricted level we can mention specific themes such as God and the devil, good and evil, heaven and earth, male and female, night and day, land and sea, sacrifice and suicide, betrayal, drama, fiction, reality, the supernatural, chieftaincy, etc.
3. HOW TO WRITE
Let’s do this together. Let’s write a one-stanza poem of four lines:
Line 1/ Make a statement
E.g. I am a man
Line 2/ Make another statement that contradicts the first one
E.g. But I do not wear a beard
L3/ Make a statement that explains either the first or the second
E.g. So don’t look at me that way (Explaining Statement 1), OR
E.g. I do not believe that beards are a man’s thing (Explaining Statement 2)
L4/ Now, make a concluding statement
E.g. I believe I have made my point, OR
E.g. So, if you want a bearded man, you must go somewhere else.
4. PUTTING IT ALL TOGETHER
The two poems we have built would therefore be something like this:
First poem
I am a man
But I don’t wear a beard
So don’t look at me that way
I believe I have made my point.
Second poem
I am a man
But I don’t wear a beard
I don’t believe that beards are a man’s thing
So if you want a bearded man, you must go elsewhere.
4. WRITING THE TITLE
Experience has taught me to cast my headlines only after writing the piece. It’s easier that way. At this point, it is up to you what title you give your poem. However, it must reflect the story and kind of summarize it.
The first poem could be called, THE BEARDLESS MAN
The second could be BEARDS ARE NOT FOR MEN
Again, it’s up to you.
5. THE ICING ON THE CAKE : INTRODUCING A RIME SCHEME
So far, your poem is okay in the sense that it can stand as it is. But then, you can still embellish it! You could, for instance, make the first line rime with the third and the second with the fourth.
So you could change the last words thus:
I am a man
But I don’t wear a beard
So don’t look at (me that way) as if I was a woman
I believe I have made my (point) voice heard.
Here you see that “man” rimes with “woman” and “beard” rimes with “heard”.
6. THE ICING ON THE CAKE: INTRODUCING A FEW ADJECTIVES
Adjectives are descriptive words. So they are very powerful and when they qualify a word, they can give it a very vibrant meaning.
Let’s look at the second poem:
I am a man
But I don’t wear a beard
I don’t believe that beards are a man’s thing
So if you want a bearded man, you must go elsewhere.
We can go back to this poem and qualify some nouns with adjectives. The proposed changes are in brackets.
I am a (strong) man
But I do not wear a (pointless) beard
I do not believe that beards are a man’s (cardinal) thing
So if you want a bearded man, you must go elsewhere.
7. OVER TO YOU
Now, using the examples we have given, write a one-stanza four-line poem of your own!
You will find that once you write one poem, you will want to write the next and so on. Very soon, you will have a whole book!
GOOD LUCK!
© 2013 Tikum Mbah Azonga
(A PIECE OF AMERICA IN LONDON)
By Tikum Mbah Azonga
I picked it up in time
Just before the next train came in
It was at London Euston underground station
We were waiting for the Victoria Line train
To go to Walthamstow
I saw it first
It was a piece of white string, tied to a small hollow gong
The box bore the colours of the U.S. flag
And the whole thing looked like a parcel from the White House
But why here? And why on the floor?
Did Obama know, or didn’t he just care a dime
That a piece of America was floating in London, draped in abject sin?
Although I had known the American president was a Leo stallion
I wondered whether if he too was here at Euston he would sing in the rain
Or would he simply reel at the first blow
I looked at the odd parcel, turned it around and decided it must be dying of thirst
“Me thirst? You’ve got it all wrong!”
Came an effeminate voice from inside, now swelling like a cursed bag
The compelling voice urged me: “Any message for the White House?”
“Yes!” I shouted. “Let the President naturalize all Cameroonians now on the Green Card floor!”
I won’t ask you again
No, I won’t
For fear of sounding like a stuck gramophone record
Why should I?
You have sold all your assets to Uncle Sam
You have nothing left
Yet you have the effrontery to stand on the Statue of Liberty
And call me poor?
Where were you when mum struggled for life in vain?
From a distance, you simply said: “Mum, don’t!”
You sent dad a photograph of your latest Ford
But where was his golden eye for which you vowed to vie?
Do you know you now sound like a flat Rantamplan?
You were sent over because dad thought you were deft
But overnight, you betrayed family fraternity
Now you have made our lives to become sour and dour.
I won’t ask you again
No, I won’t
For fear of sounding like a stuck gramophone record
Why should I?
You have sold all your assets to Uncle Sam
You have nothing left
Yet you have the effrontery to stand of the Statue of Liberty
And call me poor?
Where were you when mum struggled for life in vain?
From a distance, you simply said: “Mum, don’t!”
You sent dad a photograph of your latest Ford
But where was his golden eye for which you vowed to vie?
Do you know you know sound like a flat Rantamplan?
You were sent over because dad thought you were deft
But overnight, you betrayed family fraternity
Now you have made our lives to become sour and dour.
While in Washington, I walked to your piggy bank
I did it all alone, on purpose and with alacrity
It wasn’t like going to Texas from New York
No, it was like going to the toilet from the bathroom
I wore sandals, not tennis shoes
My clothes were drenched and the sipping water gave me a chilly bath
I did it for you, although I couldn’t bear to hear birds chirp
Unlike when I stole my way into Ngondzen
To watch the beautiful damsels just returning from Mpundu and Bonass
I knew why. We were all coy and you especially were wry
The scarlet woman had not returned from Ottawa, neither had her poorly paid driver.
All day and all night, you stayed on Facebook like a cheap piece of plank
Telling me you were born to reverse the world’s laxity
Oh, really! Just because you have moved to the British city of York?
Do you know I bought my latest car direct from the Minnesota showroom?
The same day Obama chose Michelle to carry his weary woes?
If you weren’t a fool you’d know my path would never cross your path
I know you live in New Jersey; I look at you and see your divided lips spurt
How can’t you know your own name? Today, Donald; tomorrow Wirndnzeren
Yet you claim you worked for Ford and can etch Jesus on straight canvass
How? Why are you so dry?
I honestly think you should go and drown in the Mungo River.
tmazonga 