Man from Somewhere in-between

By George Esunge Fominyen

During the violent two weeks in May 2008 when Black South Africans attacked Black African migrants in South Africa, a friend of mine sent me a number of pictures depicting men being hacked or charred to death by other men.  Under shock, she wrote to me saying, “Happiness is not always where you think you would find it.” She went on, “how could our brothers do this to us? How could blacks do this to blacks? How could South Africans do this other Africans?”

An editorial entitled Murderous Xenophobia in South Africa, published in Nigeria’s Guardian newspaper started thus: “EVERY right-thinking African would be embarrassed and mortified by the horrendous images that have emerged from South Africa over the past fortnight… black South Africans have set upon immigrants from Nigeria, Zimbabwe, Mozambique, and elsewhere, looting their homes, destroying their businesses, and inflicting grievous bodily injuries with clear intentions to kill.”

Indeed among, many Africans on the continent and in the Diaspora, these events hurt. They pain because we identify with the victims and the perpetrators. The matter is grave because it is an issue of Identity. You are not like me; you do not come from my area; you are not my brother; you are the problem…So I could even kill you.

Whether it is Kikuyu against Luo (Kenya); Hutu against Tutsi (Rwanda, Burundi); Anglophone against Francophone (Cameroon), Black Zimbabweans against White Zimbabweans or Black South Africans against Black African immigrants, it is the same thing. Hate based on the fact that we are different. Hate generated by who we define ourselves to be? I would say Hate borne from how society has constructed our identity for us.

Acts of the dimension witnessed in South Africa develop from the basic unit of society – the family. Within our families, we are taught who our brothers and our sisters are. We are educated to value our brother or sister as more important. We are then schooled on the traditions and values of our clans that are presented as often superior to others.  Consequently, we call our clansmen “brother” and extend it to the people who share the same characteristics like language, rites, dressing to name these few. As relevant as these lessons and bonding is necessary for people to understand who they are and where they come from, they build-in notions of superiority or “us” and “them” that are hard to abandon.
The family, clan, tribe, ethnic group, race thus take precedence in shaping our views of people and the decisions we make. Tribalism, ethnicism, racism become a sub-conscious prism of our worldview because, we were socialized in that way.  Some go to extremes by hinging social, economic and political challenges on politics of identity. So we blame others for our difficulties because they are different. White farmers are the problem in Zimbabwe, Black immigrants are causing the unemployment of Black South Africans, Francophones are blocking the progress of Anglophones in Cameroon, etc. There may be some truth in those perceptions but is it the whole story?

Really, are we exactly who we think we are? Are all present day Zulus really Zulu? Are all the Whites in South Africa pure Caucasians? Are White Zimbabweans Africans or British? Are Africans truly African? Aren’t we human beings a simple mixture of identities?  Let’s use me as an example.

I am called George Esunge Fominyen. In a country like Cameroon where people’s ears and eyes are trained to notice dissonance in terms of ethnic belonging from a person’s names, I have become used to recurrent questions often posed with a grin about my identity. Here are a few examples: “excuse me, where are you from?” “I mean, what is your tribe?” “What is your province of origin?” “What do I write on the form sir… that you are from the North West or South West?” So gutted by these persistent identity issues, I developed the personal concept of “somewhere in-between”.

Born of a father who hails from the Metta ethnic group, in Momo division of the North West province and a mother who is ethnically Bakweri, Fako division, South West province, defining an identity is an issue I have to face every day.  Culturally - by virtue of my involvement in traditional rites, understanding the language, the customs, values, and mores of the people as passed on by my maternal grandmother – I am Bakweri. Administratively – based on a patriarchal social model as I realized when I picked up my leave decision at CRTV offering me allowance to travel to my place of origin– I am Metta. Personally, I think I am somewhere in-between. I therefore ceased to fill out parts of official forms requiring me to choose either one or the other.  I associate with my kinsmen on both sides.

When people insist on having an answer other than “somewhere in between”, I tell them I come from Yaoundé. I was born there, was raised there, worked there and it naturally comes to me as home. But this is not a solution at all. It raises another identity issue with my interlocutors: “Are you Francophone or Anglophone?”  It would seem a straightforward matter to some; based on the fact that my parents come from the part of Cameroon once under British administration.  In reality, it isn’t that direct. 
To me Francophone is a person who speaks the French language and an Anglophone is one who speaks the English language. I am fluent in French which comes naturally due to the friends from childhood and from work.  I write the language (that I studied at school). I speak and write English with some verve which leaves me somewhere in-between. Some may contend my view as simplistic but it’s as simple as definitions can be. Moreover, if I dare to reason like the Paramount Chief of Buea, who declared himself a Bakweriphone, I could very well be considered a Pidginophone. Pidgin-English (West African Creole) being the one language that comes close to a mother tongue in my case.  So who am I?

The issues about my identity do not end in Cameroon. While in Europe, South Africa or Kenya my friends have found it hard to determine what part of Africa (West or Central) I belong to.

Geographically, Cameroon is closer to West Africa but politically and geo-strategically we are in Central Africa (acting as the big dog in CEMAC).  So when the debate rages and I am asked to settle the matter, I simply smile and say “I am from somewhere in-between and what about you?”

Professionally too, I am in-between.  Journalist, communicator, communications officer are titles I have used. But do those terms at anyone one time capture everything I have been: reporter, announcer/radio DJ, radio producer, newscaster, audio-controls operator, TV personality/presenter, PR officer, public affairs officer, newspaper columnist, webmaster, etc. Weaving a clear-cut professional identity in that context proves demanding so I often say that I am “specialized in helping people get their messages across in the most effective manner”. Somewhere in- between things…isn’t it?

I proudly carry those multiple identities wherever I go. It helps in re-educating members of my various “identity communities”.  For instance, I travelled as a reporter to cover an event in Buea, Fako division, South West province of Cameroon. A colleague who hails from the North West and evidently had done only partial homework with regards to my “identity” was on the team. On account that as his “brother” from the North West province of Cameroon (my surname is Fominyen), I would easily understand his disdain of the Bakweri ethnic group (paradoxically my mother’s ethnic group). As he surveyed the lush forests around the Fako Mountain (Mount Cameroon) he delved into a thesis on Bakweris and laziness. “These Bakwerians are damn lazy!” He commented.  “They have vast fertile lands but only farm on small patches and return home to sleep. Only to get up angry about hard working “graffis” who have put their land into use.”

Take a minute and reflect. Did such a description of a set of people come from a Cameroonian? Are we really far from what happened in South Africa? Was that the utterance of a learned journalist? If he views people from such prisms are we safe in case of a Bakweri vs Graffi chasm? What if I had to lean essentially on my cultural identity? It could have led to an inexplicable fracas between colleagues!

However, one must understand that he has been socialized to view his “brothers” as superior?  As a man in-between, I took time to explain the anthropological difference between both sets of people.
I told him that the volcanic soils around the Fako Mountain are very fertile and the rains are abundant in these parts. The people here historically do not have big families. As a result, the Bakweris farm the patches which would feed their families and they are sure to harvest what they sow.  The grassfields plateau of Cameroon is fertile but not to equal measure. Anthropologically, the people have bigger families (many wives and children). To ensure that that they reap enough to feed these big families, they have to work bigger portions (in case the yields fail in one part). This system has become a tradition and it is replicated wherever they find themselves. Such difference may cause them to perceive their hosts as lazy while the hosts view them as invasive (taking much more than is given to them). I finished by saying “you know I am somewhere in-between Bakweri and Graffi.” Do I need to describe the shock on his face?

Knowledge of our dominant identity is relevant for determining what space we occupy on the planet. It engenders communion which if properly used would enhance society and lead to development. However, in my view, we have multiple identities which are constructed over time. Consequently, we should de-construct the myths about single identity and open our minds to the multiple shades that abound. This would enable us notice, understand and accept difference as part of life instead of encoding it as the problem of our lives.

Every time we focus exclusively on whether we are Black, White, Zulu, Beti, Aryan, Northerner, Southerner, Christian, Muslim, Animist, Francophone, Anglophone, American, Nigerian, and South African or Cameroonian we are feeding the beast of conflict in us.  Could we say that sometimes  for geographical, cultural or political reasons we are one of those categories; but every hour on earth we are just humans somewhere in-between life and death?

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