She’s Beautiful…isn’t she?

She’s beautiful, isn’t she?
“Yeah,” he said, “how do you know her?”
She’s in my department. We used to have a thing once.
Yeah. Then I blew it.
“What happened?”
Bro, it’s complicated

The sharwarma in my bag tickled my nostrils. I pictured my relaxed mind devouring the content as soon as I’d reached home. The streets were filled with the usual Molyko night folk, almost like dark walkers who crawl to Bonga, Twist and Tastie as soon as the sun went down.

“What did you say?”
Nah. I was just thinking man.

I knew what was going on in his mind. Fifteen minutes ago he shook hands with Eva at Malingo junction. She was pretty. Very pretty.

Man, why are we walking so fast? Slow down
“I teh you massa…”

A bevy of University gals hurdled on our side of the pavement. A ballerina sale. Clearly affordable.

“Seriously bro, tell me about that chick”
Massa…what do you want to know…she’s pretty and very interesting.
“Yeah? How so”
Well, she’s really really funny.

He wanted more. But there was nothing more to add. Eva was pretty and funny. A deadly combination for me.

“Is that it?”
Yeah, that’s it. When was the last time you met a chick in Molyko who had both qualities in equal proportions? Gerrat massa. Plus, she has this interesting way of looking at the world.
And she actually listens.
“Dude, you’re really a poet. What does that mean “she listens”? ‘His sarcastic shrug made it the more annoying. I knew he wouldn’t get it. But I was too impressed with who Eva showed me she was not to try
She asks questions that make sense and she follows up. We went out to eat ice cream once and talked for like four hours. Bro, I really didn’t want to go home.

He was silent. Maybe I got to him.

“So, is she, like, your girlfriend?”
Psh! NO! Duuude, she has a boyfriend. And I have girlfriend.
“I see…”

We were at UB junction now. He had to take his cab and I had to continue walking home to Dirty South.

“So, what happened the last time? What do you mean by you blew it?”
That’s for another time bro. Just take this one like that.

A group of students had just finished their 5pm class. Mathematics majors. The argument on quadratics was distinct. Joseph pointed out a boring Ad on the billboard and purported that at least, papers don’t need to be refurbished like electric devices we never use. He motioned to the screen that had been installed by the VC that had never ever been repaired.

“So, what are you guys going to do?”
I don’t know bro. I really didn’t. She clearly likes me, and I …sort of clearly like her
“That’s not good bro”
Tell me about it.

My Soul Mate, You Are.

A man once sought a friend, he found a brother.
He once sought company, he found a family.
When he needed a patient ear, he found a shoulder.
And when he needed a smile, he found a laugh.

Blood may be thicker than water, time may heal all wounds, and the future may remain unknown.
But some bonds go better with time and make every second of the journey of life marvelous.

You’re not my friend. You are my soul mate.

P.S: Yesterday was my birthday. I once wrote a post on the…”event”.

Currently working on one right now. Have a great day ahead.

Time and (all) my high school friends.

It’s interesting how time doesn’t change high school relationships.
For me anyway.
I still laugh at the same jokes and get bored at the same instances.
I still click with the people I did ten, fifteen years ago.
And, ( very important for me at this moment in my life plot) I get to know why there was a tiny,itsy-bitsy voice that said:

“Dude, this ‘friendship thing’ just won’t work out”.

At the time, I thought it was the cold in Belo. That waking up and taking an ice cold bath at 5a.m. for 7 years had traumatized me to “Ghost Whisperer’ mode.
Or rather, “Cynic Whisperer”.
Now,I know better than to NOT listen.
When the voice says:

“Dude, something is off with that guy/dude/person”.

There is only one thing to do: Run like I would if I were in Pompeii.

P.S: Pretty hopeless run huh?

P.P.S: It’s my birthday month! Yay. I once wrote a pretty “sad” post about my birthday. Actually, this would be the first in a long time that I celebrate without being in some sort of school.

Totally rad yeah? ( Er…for me anyway… 🙂 )

I’ll be getting pretty pretty old in 7 days. I’d be doing a special post.
An “answer post”. So!

What would you like to know about me?

All this time I have been away, I tried to put a summary here. It’s a very short summary. Trust me. Also, I know there are things I have mentioned that I haven’t written ( or made a poem ) about yet.
So, for my 26th birthday, tell me what you’d like me to write about in the comments section.
Thanks in advance!

P.P.S.S ( Is that even allowed?): Thank you so much for following my blog. Every ‘like’ thrills me immensely.
It means a beautiful human somewhere on this beautiful earth of ours thought that what I wrote was pretty cool enough to click “like”.

Your attention is priceless.

Thank you.

The Value in Silence

It’s easy to say : “You’ll be alright.” Especially when you’ve never been there.
Empathy is not a concept. It’s real.
And you can’t fake it.
A real friend knows the value of silence.
Silence, to me, doesn’t mean you lack stuff to say.
Sometimes, it means you understand the gravity of the situation and acknowledge your inability to fully grasp your friend’s feelings.
Silence is golden. Not because it’s expensive.
But because it’s valuable.
It actually means something.

Guys! Let’s help Monique Get the MILEAD Fellowship


#BeTheChangeYouWantToSee #BetterBreed

Sometimes, I stalk people on Facebook.


I stay offline and I look at pictures of people who seem…well…not physically repulsive.
Yes, before you say it, I agree.

I am weird.
But, the reason why I am still on Facebook is not because of cute pictures.
Ok. Fine. It is one of the reasons I am still on Facebook.
The other( real) reason is the friends I have met here. Great, and remarkable people. Many of whom I have never met in person.
Some, I have re-discovered on this platform.
Others, I have had to block. ( Some people are sick and they don’t even know it).
One of the people who reduces my animal urge to stalk and engage in ‘serious stuff’ is Monique.
You see, Mo and I are not BFFs. We didn’t grow up together in the village to get separated when we came to the city.

I remember the first day I met Monique.

(This is the part where I give unnecessary background information and you scroll down the bottom and click. That’s okay. I forgive you)

Rainy season. August 2014. A friend and I organized a workshop to orientate students who had recently had their G.C.E. Advanced Levels as to ‘What Next’? What should one study in the University?
Our workshop failed. We didn’t get many things in time and I had to stand infront of the then Amphi 750 to apologize to participants.

Trust me, that speech sucks.
It is past 3pm. Rain drizzling. Cold. A not so small lady walks towards the venue. She gets in, realizes there’s no one in. My instincts tell me she was supposed to be part of the event. I don’t compute her to be a student.
I present myself and explain the situation. 2 mins max.
She is very disappointed. She grudgingly hands me a heap of printed material with Better Breed Cameroon all over it. It is a publication that actually questions the life after the GCE and seeks to provide valuable answers and insights.
Less than 5 mins and Monique is gone.
I would not see her again until I discovered she was core member at ACWA_on_Facebook ( Anglophone Cameroon Writers Association) and that BetterBreed Cameroon was her brainchild- she founded the NGO with the cash price she received at the completion of her Undergraduate Degree.

When I found out that she had published a short story in the 2011 Caine Prize Short Story Collection( I think I am making a mistake here…Mo correct me if I am wrong oh!), I was in love!
Monique is passionate about Youth, positive change and about making Cameroon a better place.
Her current Chevening Scholarship expresses that stance more than I could.

They say: Educate a woman and you educate a generation. Well, I say ” Give a Woman the tools she needs and she will build the nation she wants for her descendants”
I suppose by now we’ve established that I am broke.
Also, we have established that Monique deserves and needs your support.
Click the link to find out what I am talking about.
I am counting on you  Let’s help a sister out shall we?
If you can’t donate, at least eh, share.
Here’s the link to Monique’s MILEAD Fellowship (The MILEAD fellowship identifies and invites 25 young women from countries across the African continent who display potential for leadership and contribution to development)

Also, her blog.


Friendship 101 ( or solving depression)


I love you too!

I am lazy. I admit. I wrote this post a few weeks ago and I think this is the right time to post it. I just heard some disturbing news. Still reeling from it. We’ll talk about that later. For now…
I don’t feel too well today. It’s not malaria. I hope. I just wish I could talk to someone. I have one person in mind actually. He’s just pretty far and a phone call won’t do. It is during these kinds of times that my desire( or is it stubborn lust?) for a girlfriend exacerbates. I want my friend. In fact, I want him to buy me food and bring home because for the whole damn day I have been sitting on the same spot and watching movies.

I think I am depressed. Well, I have had bipolar symptoms for a while but some days, it gets worse. Some days I wake, and I feel this wonderful energy. Like I can do anything I set my mind to. The world is so bright. Full of potential.
And, some days, like today, I just want a hug and a friend.
A hug from a friend. A hug and an ear, someone who gets that I am not mad with the world. That I am just scared of the future and that I just need to listen to my soul.
No man is an island. I have a nasty temperament sometimes. I get rude, impolite and even harsh. It is as though I am constantly in puberty. I think I have been this way for a while.
Then again I am usually wrong about many things.
My parents love me. I am extremely lucky to have parents who would literally do anything for me.
They would kill themselves if that would make me happy.
It is invigorating and sometimes saddening because they would go to the ends of the earth to do what they deem best for me and my future.
But, who knows the future? Who knows one’s true calling?
No one.  Only God I presume.
So, it is quite scary when I think of the they fact that they would spend all their savings to make sure I get a good education with the underlying hope that the education would secure a future for me and my family.
I am scared. What if they are wrong? What if this degree is not the right one?
But…worse…what if I am wrong??
What if they are totally correct , endowed with the wisdom and foresight of age and me with my puny 25 years of existence jeopardizes all their sacrifice because ‘what I am doing doesn’t feel right’?
I am scared. Everyday.
I run. Hide. Laugh and make jokes just to ease the fear but every once in a while, when the effects wear off, the question marks pop right in.
And, in these quiet retreats when I retract from human interactions, I need a mirror.
A friend.
Someone to help me figure things out. Who isn’t scared I would be angry at the truth. Who would ask the right questions because he or she knows they would help me figure shit out.
I miss my buddy. He is the only friend who gets me.
As much as I want to have a best friend I could kiss( a.k.a girlfriend), I am very deeply grateful to have my buddy.
Sometimes, I don’t even think I deserve him. He is the smartest human I know.
Apart from me of course.  🙂
He’s funny, cool, outstanding, totally gets my jokes and I could call him at 3 a.m. knowing he would pick even though I know he spent the whole day treating patients at the hospital.
Maybe these thoughts are a reminder. That to earn such a friend, I need to be a friend myself. That I owe humanity the sum of the people I have met in my life.
My mom, dad, and my friend.
I  won’t die for any of them.
But I definitely know they have my back.
So while I return to my solitude and binge watching, I would like you to think of your family, friends or anyone who cares about you deeply.
Give them a call. Tell them they mean the world to you.
Mean it.
It helps sometimes.
It helped me today.
Thanks for being my friend Tsi.
And to all of you who know how much you mean to me. I am grateful.
Thank you for being you.

Blog Title involves being single and associated emotions

From @himanivatyani's profile

I know I promised you two posts but I’d like…with your permission…to get a little selfish here to talk about…well…me. 🙂 
Also because I am lazy and still working on the other  posts.
Seriously though, I had to write this post. Yesterday evening was awful.
My original title for this post was : “I am single and it sucks”. My  friend told me I would sound like such a loser.
Maybe he was right. Maybe I sound like a loser.
Maybe I am  a loser.

 But, being single and being a loser have one thing in common:
both suck.
And in the post, I’ll explain why it sucks so much.
For me at least.

Or maybe I could discover at the end that it doesn’t and that I just want somebody to love me as much as I love her.
And that that somebody should not be my mom.
Like a best friend I can make-out with.
What beats that?
Priesthood maybe.But then again, it had never EVER crossed my mind to get into priesthood.
We’ll have this discussion another day.
I am single and it sucks.


Why? Entirely my fault. I complicate every conversation and I am always looking for a reason to be the smarter one. I have stringent rules( which I hardly obey) and expect everyone to. I use my brain more than my heart.
Word of advice: Don’t be an idiot. Don’t be me.
I lost the ‘idea’ of the ideal wife( yes, wife…not girlfriend) a long time ago.
 Here is what the profile of my ideal wife looked like:
A. Short in stature( to be precise…shorter than me)
B.  Fair in complexion( what is it with fair in complexion chicks? Maybe it’s my Dad’s fault…)
C. Speaks fluent English and French ( yep I am a language nerd)
D. Loves cooking( duh)
E. Loves kids and wants to have at least four( and bonus if she would ensure that the first is a girl)
F. Plays Chess.
G. Plays video games.
H. Loves books and movies.
I. Organized. Very.
J. Less lazy than I am( very important this point was)
K. Meticulous with money.
L. Other positive values.
M. More positive and ESPECIALLY unrealistic values.
N. More.
O.You get the point
P-Z. If you have not gotten the point…just…continue reading.
I lived with this human in my head.
This image of the ‘perfect’ *scoffs* girlfriend.
Why do I keep creating humans in my head?  Maybe I take marriage too seriously.
Anyway, that is what the profile for  my ideal girlfriend  looked like.
 I still have a profile now.
Who doesn’t?
Don’t judge me! Consciously or not, if you look at the ladies or men you accost  (especially those you are dying to get romantically involved with), the character traits  become evident. For example:
1. I have hardly sustained a long relationship with a lady who spoke just French or English.
2. I love eating and am quite lazy so, I get really irritable when the hunger kicks in. I eat to live harmoniously with other humans.
This is paramount to my relationships.
Those who know me would confirm this.
3. And if a lady( or even dude) can’t sustain a conversation of more than 15 minutes with me, there is a likelihood we will not be having conversations AT ALL.
Communication =Relationships 101. Basics.
Yes,I do have a profile.
Not of the ideal woman anymore. There’s no such thing as ‘ideal’!
I think the word  was invented by a grumpy single grammar nerd who knew exactly how unfair the world was and chose to punish lots of humans after him. I am certain it was a ‘he’.
Only men get that grumpy.
Long before my crush crushed me, I had already had a change of heart concerning my principles . So, here goes nothing…
 Profile of my not-so-ideal woman:
A. Ambitious.
B. Will work honestly to achieve her goals.
C. Stubborn.
D.Likes me.
-An ambitious woman  can easily become an idea machine.
-Someone who works honestly won’t do evil or use people to achieve his or her goals.
-A stubborn person fights for her beliefs.
-Anybody who likes me deserves to be ‘liked by me’.
 Note that  I did not say ‘Loves me‘.
Now that is a complicated. It is a word that makes me grateful to be human. Just like the concept of The Holy Trinity. If you can understand those two, there’s a high probability you are not human.
You’re not supposed to understand them.
At least in my opinion.


I am not a slave driver. I don’t want people to work FOR me but WITH me. I believe the highest level of any human relationship is interdependence. Everyone relying on each other.
Yesterday night, I returned from a long day in school and from running errands around the city.
I could feel in my eye sockets the desire to have someone help take my shoes off while I laid on my back. This someone, coaxing me gently into a bath and then preparing a delicious meal for my revitalization.
And she, muttering the most awesome phrase in the world:
You’ll be alright”.
I looked at my room, the emptiness, the scattered and unwashed garments.
It sucked.Truly did.
I was hungry and tired. I stepped out, bought some food by the roadside. Ate a little and started writing. Too exhausted to finish, I slept without even my daily reading regiment.
I slept alone, in my cold but comfortable mood. Sent a couple of text messages and introspected a little.
I have not always been this way.
I won’t die of loneliness-that I’m certain.
My mother raised me well, I can cook and take care of myself.
But, some days, I just wish I had someone to look after me.
Is that so much to ask?

“Why do you need people to tell you what you did was cool?”

Two days ago, I didn’t feel so well . I slept late, got up later and I didn’t go to school. I was tired. Tired of many things and I just needed to take a break from life. I know I can’t escape the routine but …sometimes I try.
That’s how stubborn I am.
I had a very interesting conversation with my brother. We’ve started talking to each other again (we always find a way around…we love each other too much :D) and I was trying to explain to him how much I needed people to tell me what I did was great. In fact, I was blatantly laying down to him how much I needed approval.
I sometimes go on air on the University Teaching Radio Station (CHARIOT FM 93.5) and I have been pleading with him to listen and tell me how I did.
He has never listened.
He is cool. Seriously. It’s as though nothing ever fazes him. He hardly talks and always has witty comebacks. We have many things in common but one thing I know for a fact he lacks (that I know I HAVE IN EXCESS) is the need for approval!
Then he asked: “Why do you need people to tell you what you did was cool?”
I had nothing to say.
That is a perfect question-the ultimate question.
I started babbling a list of reasons as to how it feels good for people to say: “Oh! That editorial was so cool!” or “I wish I could be like you.” or maybe a cute lady would walk up to me and say something like: “Hey…are you Kamga? I heard you the other day on the radio…I love you…would you marry me?!!”
Why do I need approval? He got me thinking. It made me ashamed I’ll admit.
Does it mean all I do is for OTHER persons? Does it mean I work so hard at being better just so OTHER people will say :“You did a great job?!”
He is smart …my brother…and he has brought a change in me.
It might be in you too. I mean… why do you work so hard? What drives you? Are you internally motivated or (like me) externally dependent of people’s opinions?
External motivation is good up till when it isn’t. Everyone loves to feel like he/she is doing something worthy of praise .It’s pleasurable for humans to actually admit another human did better …but that should not be an end.
It should be a means—to gauge not a goal per se!
Internal motivation is the key; whatever you do-if you chose to love someone, if you choose to study, to work on a project, to have a child(although that is a whole book on its own) ,to go to school, to work hard ,to help someone ,WHATEVER do it because YOU want to not because your friends or family or neighbors or OTHERS will be proud of you. Their approval should be SECONDARY.
It’s great if they do approve but is should not be the goal.
I’m tired of seeking approval. It’s a nasty habit. It drains me. It’s probably what got me this tired.
I’m going to detox.

The True

Some come,some go,some we forget,others we bless,most we ignore…a few we choose. Some come ,some connect,some fail (us).
Some we fight, some we bite , others we veer off.
Others we trust, others we believe, some we disappoint.
Some we like,some we love, others we agree (to a certain point).
Most ignore us, a few even hate us but the true remain with us.
We carry them wherever we are. We laugh at their jokes in their absence,we smile at their mannerisms with fondness.
The true we keep in our hearts.
The true we trust and protect.
The true we won’t forget.
I consider myself blessed to know you.
Among a few,in you I find a true…