My Father’s Diary

       

                 By J ackson Nanje

I have always thought about writing My Father’s Diary but I was worried how many who knew him could contradict my characterization of him if I tried to portray him as a flawless man out of love for him. I was equally worried about striking a balance between his personal and professional life, being equally aware of some of his shortcomings that we (his children), could not boast of or keep away from the ever-inquisitive public. More importantly, despite his riches, how we, his children, never benefited from it in a meaningful way because we were young. These are some of the issues I am grappling with as I embark on this arduous task of writing the diary of my father. The children and his wives however have concluded that despite his known frailties, he was a good husband and a great father.

This essay shall be divided in three parts: (A) Family Life History (B) Public Life and Professional Life (C) Testimonies from friends and foes

In writing a diary of a loved one it is usually a difficult task because you have to strike a balance between what the family members prefer not to divulged to the public and the public’s objective assessment of possible omissions which could render such a prophetic work worthless. Or, as an African, our works, if not written as fictional, is reticent of revealing private information frowned upon by the family as betrayal.  

A.                                                                FAMILY LIFE HISTORY

My father, Denis Ekumedi Aki Nanje, was born in 1939 in Dikome Balue. His father was called Pa DINYAKA Nanje (Nanjo nha Dinyaka) who migrated from Madie Ngolo to settle in Dikome Balue, where he met his wife, Bua Ngonde (WA Nesoa) Nanje, a Dikome woman. Together they had seven (7) children of which, two died young. The surviving children were: (1) Bie Nanje (with a surviving child called Maria Mande Ngoe), (2) Paul Mokube Nanje (14 children) (3) Juliet Mojoko Nanje (6 children), (4) Peter Ngariba Nanje (12 children) and (5) Denis Nanje (12 children).

Pa Denis, as my father was fondly called, was born in 1939 in Dikome Balue and died on January 17, 2010 at the Kumba District (now Regional) Hospital in the hands of his loving wives and children. We are all confident that his deeds on earth have gained him entry into the Lord’s Kingdom.

My father was the second to the last of seven children. He completed his primary education at Basel Mission Dikome Balue and proceeded to the then pristine college, Ombe Technical School, located about 100kilometers away from Dikome Balue. He was a very intelligent student and a formidable athlete who led the Basel Mission Primary School and Ombe Technical College soccer teams as captain. He once told me that, during his playing days, he won the hearts of many young girls including my mother’s with his heroics on the soccer field. He was popularly known as Durango-ki on the soccer pitch. And during soccer matches you could hear chants of Durango, Durango, Durango whenever he was with the ball. There’s a saying in our Oroko dialect that, “makia ma comaka mosisa” interpreted simply as, “blood follows the vein.” You can now tell where I derived my soccer prowess.

My father had a very busy and active sexual life part so because money came to him while in his twenties and even though he was married to four wives: Marie Tchakounte (2children), Lucy Mende (9children), Winifred Mende (2children) and Esther Bel (she had a child from a previous marriage but none with him), he still had a desire for more beautiful women outside his matrimonial home. Rumor has it that he fathered six other children out of marriage of which, two have since been confirmed by the family. He was a mild womanizer; whose early access to wealth gave him tremendous access to women outside his marital life and so too did his problems multiplied at home with his legal wives. My father has since passed on to eternity with three of his wives, Marie Tchakounte, Esther Bel and Lucy Mende leaving behind Winifred Mende.

 It was rather unfortunate that when he had money his children were in their adolescent age and the younger ones were yet to be born. So, his responsibility was geared towards his older siblings’ children who were of age. At any given time in my father’s house, you would find a minimum of thirty (30) family members under his care. We, the children, were so unfortunate that when we attained higher education age, our father’s wealth had dried out and we really struggled to live up with the reputation of being children of a rich man. All that was left of the rich man was symbolism of a rich man. It was also a disappointing moment for him when my senior brother, his first child was preparing to travel my father was expecting some of his government-held money in 1985 but he never received the money before my brother traveled. Two years later, I suffered the same faith when it was time to meet my senior brother in the United States. I traveled with a meager, borrowed sum of money. He was devastated in these two instances because he had the desire to help his children but could not do so of government delayed payment.

 One of my father’s pitfalls was his desire to maintain other fruitless sexual relationships outside the legally sanctioned ones. It cannot be denied that some of his children struggle so hard not to compliment this insatiable lifestyle that ultimately contributed to their father’s demise. In addition to his bad habit of unquenchable sexual desire, what the children and neighbors found displeasing and embarrassing about an individual they considered as the Man-of-the-People, was the fact that he occasionally disruptive at home when under the influence of alcohol. Though he was not a heavy drinker, he amused many in that, he often found himself being controlled by alcohol whenever he visited the bar. He won’t put a spectacle at the bar but will do so at home. He became the cynosure of everyone in the house when he came back drunk from his bar visits. In such instance, nobody will sleep until his drunken slumber state creeps into bed for an unplanned sleep.

Before we discuss his professional life, it is important to know how he derived his wealth. After he completed Ombe Technical School where he studied carpentering, his desire was to join the Cameroon army. Chief Victor Ngomo Obie was the sole building contractor in the newly created Ndian division carved out of the VIKUMA division. And it was the law in Southern Cameroon that one could not hold two portfolios for fear of conflict of interest. Meaning, he could not be a Member of Parliament and a contractor at the same time. My father was the only son from Ndian division who had completed a higher Technical education from one of the elite colleges in Southern Cameroon. Chief Obie tried on several occasions to tap my father’s talent to run his Building Contracting business called CABOURUKO while he was serving in the newly created division as parliamentarian but his mind was set firm on becoming a member of the Cameroon army since fighting was his passion. The Chief had come to my father’s house to convince him again on that day (October 1, 1966) when the Cameroon Army had its recruitment in Kumba Town Green. Vast opportunities awaited my father, he told him, as a young contractor in a newly created Ndian division. As luck would have its way, as the Chief was ready to take my father to the recruitment center, my mother, who was heavily pregnant, delivered my brother at home and so did Chief have the good fortune of naming the child after him-Victor Ngomo Nanje. That joy of having another child got him so excited that he had to forego his military ambitions and it marked the beginning of a new career in a newly created division with vast contracting opportunities. He later on moved some of his family to Mundemba with his new wife, Winifred Mende Nanje, after he built a house there. My mother later returned to the family home in Kumba and continued on her teaching career.

B.                                                               Public Life and Professional Life

My father’s public life is quite interwoven with his professional life. So, here, we are going to make the narratives interchangeably simple for the readers. In the afore-mentioned pages, we did explain that our dear father studied at the pristine Ombe Technical College where he majored in carpentering. It is with this informative background and the experience he fomented at the helm of Chief Victor Obie’s company that contribution to his huge success as the best building contractor ever in the history of Ndian division.  All the buildings he constructed as a contractor were in Ndian division. He ran Chief Obie’s company efficiently for the period that the Chief was a representative of the people after which, like any bright under-study, he branched out and opened his own contracting company in 1975 which he named Rumpi Hills Contractor. At the later years, he transformed the company by renaming it as Rumpi Hills General Contractor.

The potential of Ndian division was unbelievably plenty for a contractor who could handle projects with large economy of scale which my father possessed. The government had to build governmental infrastructures in the newly-created divisional headquarters of Mundemba and the four Sub-divisional headquarters of Ekondo-Titi, Isangele, Bamusso and Kombo Itindi. So, over the years spanning from 1975 up until 1990 my father built the Mundemba Council Chambers (which is still the best building in Mundemba to date), Police department, Treasury office, Health Centers in Mundemba and Lipenja Batanga and several other buildings throughout the division. We are grateful to be children of this great man who did not only take care of his children but children of other people.

In 1974, the government opened the first Government Secondary School in Mundemba, Ndian division. However, classes and school did not begin until 1975 because of lack of infrastructures. This is an unusual and bizarre practice of the government of Cameroon, to announce the creation of schools without a single infrastructure in place. The school was eventually opened in 1975 with some makeshift classrooms (sadly, my father did not get the contract). The first batches of students that came to Mundemba were stranded because of lack of accommodations. My father came to the rescue of these students and the government by constructing affordable housing units used by students for more than twenty (20) years. It is because of these dormitories that were built by my father that led to an increase in student enrolment in subsequent years of the school’s existence and, life in Mundemba became fun at long last for students. One of the reasons why my daddy was truly loved by the starving students of Government Secondary School Mundemba was because, as a contractor, he provided the students with cyclical employment which helped them pay for food and buy their academic materials. It is also true that, students who were sometimes unable to pay their boarding fee due to financial hardship, my daddy ensured that their boarding fees were waved for that period. A good man and father he was to his children and strangers.

It is equally important to underscore the difficulties my father encountered when he arrived in Ndian division’s capital city of Mundemba, the heart of Bima tribe. The area was vastly uninhabited and remote. He faced problems transporting building materials to building sites because there were hardly any roads in the newly-created Ndian division. My daddy did not only build government buildings but many private homes. I am not sure whether to capture some of his not-so-pleasant experiences in Bima land since he was from the Balue tribe as nature’s wanders or temptations by nocturnal forces. My daddy’s house was constantly flooded while we were asleep in our early days in Mundemba with everything swept away including his Renault 4. It was a nightmare living in Mundemba in the late 1960s and my father constantly confronted the Chief of Bima whenever the house flooded that he was not prepared to lose any of his children as a result of their nocturnal activities. In the most part, the Chief assured him that it won’t happen. The other difficulty my father encountered was the delay of payment from the government and as a result, business people from whom my father sometimes borrowed building materials pending payment by the government were constantly at his neck. Sometimes we the children felt pity for our daddy but we were usually in awe to see these same people come asking for my father when they saw a new building going up in town without my father visiting their stores.

(C) Testimonies from friends and foes

Always, the sweetest part of a dairy writing is when people speak or write anonymously about the individual who is the subject of the report. And it is so, because, it is assume that if the author of the dairy is a member of the family the possibility to avoid portraying the ugly side of the subject is possible. I have avoided that by allowing people to write about my daddy in the way of their choosing.  

I am the first child (son) of Papa Denis Nanje who passed away on January 17, 2010.
I will like to take this opportunity to express a few things I knew about my father. My father lived a life full of joy and happiness.  Whenever I think about him, I remember how humorous, witty, and clever he was.
Most of my childhood memories of him are tinged with traces of humor and laughter. I remember when he used to tell me stories about his childhood and schooldays.
The problem I had with Papa was that, despite the wealth that he had, there was no term in my secondary school days that I was not sent away for non-payment of school fees. I can remember vividly one time when I almost lost my life footing from Ekondo-Titi to Mundemba to go ask for my fees and we encountered some wild animals on our way to Mundemba.
Looking back now, I realize that it was not the events in his life that were extraordinary, but the way he faced life with intelligence, courage and wit.
We all remember how lighthearted he was and how much he liked to enjoy himself.
Papa, you have been gone for more than ten (10) years and I continue to miss you.  I have so many wonderful memories of you.
I will always think of you with a smile. [Louis Mokube Nanje, son]

 

 

“While appreciating God for the wonderful things He has done in my life, it would be a fallacy for me to forget some of those human vessels God used to preserve my life and keep me living to this day. One of such persons who will never escape my memory is Pa Denis Nanje of blessed memory. This is a man who was used by God to save my life in an incident many would call good luck but which I will term Divine intervention. On that particular day in Mbonge road, a double coincidence occurred. The first was that I was invited by two friends to an off-license quite close to Pa Nanje's house at Uphill Mbonge road for a drink. One of the friends just had a visa to travel to Denmark and as I was passing by, they invited me to share a drink with them. So as it is a common practice in Cameroon, one would always honor such an invitation. I walked into the off-license and was offered a bottle of Amstel. With the scorching heat outside, I quickly gulped half the bottle of beer like a thirsty camel and I decided to settle down on a chair to sip the remaining half more slowly. Suddenly the two friends who invited me for a drink excused themselves to buy cigarettes. Believing that they will be back soon I continued sipping my beer but this time more slowly. After 15 minutes the son of the proprietress of the off-license came and notified me that his mother wanted to go to the market and would like for me to pay for my beer. I replied that I was offered the beer by my friends who just went out to buy cigarettes and  that he should be patient  for my friends will soon  come back to pay for the  beer. As I sat there waiting the pressure from the bar owner started mounting until it turned into threats. It was at that juncture I realized that my so-called friends didn't pay for the beer and had left for good. Reality dawned on me when the lady who owned the off-license came to the scene and accused me of being a crook. As I started pleading and defending myself they told me that if I wasn’t a crook let me free myself by paying for the beer. I had no single franc in my pocket. Before I could  speak further the whole  family fell on me and started beating me violently .The more I struggled to defend their blows the more they  beat me even harder. I started shouting at the top of my voice in my dialect ‘ngberi eh, ngberi eh, ngberi eh'. Pa Denis Nanje (the father of Jackson Warori Nanje) happened to have heard my cry from his house and he started searching for where that cry of agony was coming from. Inside that confusion I suddenly saw an aged man who broke into the fight shouting at the top of his voice 'na my pikin wuna di killam so?' ‘Wuna leave my pikin'. When the violence reduced a bit due to the man's intervention I recognized him as Pa Denis Nanje. He asked the family that was pouncing on me what the matter was and he was told I came to the off-license and ordered a beer and could not pay for it. Right there Pa Denis produced 1000 FCFA and paid for the beer. But the proprietress refused to take the money saying that only the gendarmes or police can settle the problem at that juncture. Pa Denis continued to plead until the lady and her sons agreed to spare me but not without stern and angry warnings. Pa Nanje held my hand and we both moved to his house where he asked for two chairs and we sat on his veranda. He then asked me what happened and I told him exactly as it happened. He called one if his daughters and sent her to buy two bottles of beer. While we were drinking Pa Denis Nanje advised me on three things.

A.   When someone invites you out for a drink never accept a drink if  you do not have money  in your pocket  to buy at least two bottles  of the  same drink

B.    If you have a friend who always gets you involved into problems, dissolve the friendship because if you do not you will die a death which is not yours.

C.    And, no matter how you love your friend (boy or girl) never do a blood pact with them. Blood oaths / pacts are very dangerous. The first and third advice was very easy for me to apply but considering my long standing friendship with both friends it was not very easy to apply the second advice. After a few days I eventually applied Pa Nanje's second advice by severing my relationship with both friends. Five years later, one of the friends who made me a victim in the off-license died. I then realized the importance of listening to an aged man. It is often said that what an old man sees while sitting down a young man cannot see while standing. In the Bible Jesus said 'man does not live by bread alone but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.

Pa Denis Nanje was a man ahead of his time whose love for humanity surpassed every understanding. He was a humanist and a lover of justice. He discriminated no one nor did he ever look down on anyone. His house was a shelter for all. He would prefer to go hungry just to see that everyone had something to eat. He sheltered hundreds of students when GSS Mundemba was created for a very low fee. He was a great Oroko man and a great human soul. May his memory always remain alive in our hearts. As Oroko people let us emulate the love he shared for humanity and for all Oroko People. May his memory live forever.” [Innocent Mokube]

 

Pa Denis Nanje was a magnanimous man. Most of us benefited from his largesse as students of GSS Mundemba in Ndian overseas as we fondly called that part of Cameroon. [Mosongo Iyasse Nanje]

 

Pa Denis Nanje initiated the Dormitory life for the GSS Mundemba boys and that remains an indelible mark in our memories.[Rev Samson Namaya]

 

This is a very edifying message, indeed. If we could emulate such a rare character the people of Balue in particular, and Oroko in general, will in no distant future come out of this dilemma and the ugly situation mostly, if each and every one of us could just help two of the Balue children. It will be very helpful! How I wish the good spirit of Pa Denis Nanje could transfer into our subconscious minds so that we could distance ourselves from this growing spirit of backwardness and Sheer greed that is overwhelming and delaying our development. The Bible in the book of proverbs 17:17 reads, “What are brothers for if not to share trouble”. That is, your brother's problem is your problem as Pa Denis Nanje did. May this good spirit of Pa Denis Nanje join with that of Chief Etinge of Dikome Balue. [Chief Francis K Mukwelle]