January 3, 2007


Since this is my first post of the New Year, I figured I would give an update on reform efforts in Cameroon. And guess what. They’re encouraging.

The new Cameroonian penal code went into effect on New Year’s Day. Okay, is the yawn over? Get that last stretch out…OK…. Here we go.

I know, penal reform sounds incredibly boring. Every once in a while when someone describes the whole process to me, I feel like grabbing my pillow. But for thousands of Cameroonians languishing in criminally neglected and overcrowded jails, this is potentially huge news.

How bad are Cameroonian jails? Guards in several prisons around the country went on strike over the conditions last week, and they’re the ones in charge. The strike in Yaoundé ended violently yesterday, with gendarmes and police storming the city’s Central Prison to retake control from the prisoners. The gendarmes and police took the opportunity to beat up on the guards and arrest several of them. Two prisoners were killed.

The Cameroonian legal system was, like the rest of the country, divided between British and French until recently. Essentially, habeas corpus rights came into effect countrywide on Jan. 1. They had previously existed only in the Anglophone provinces, in penal codes modeled on British law, while in the Francophone provinces, the government could just hold a person until they got around to holding a trial, or the person paid a large “fee” to get out. This system was modeled on French law. Hey wait a minute. Isn’t France the country that says it’s the birthplace of human rights? I guess I can’t say anything, since the Bushies are doing their best to get rid of the sacred writ in the United States. You know, he’s making it really hard to ride my high horse.

But I digress.

Anyway, under the new penal code, a prisoner can petition to be let out of jail if their cases aren’t heard within a prescribed period of time. I’m not sure how long that is, but I am sure that it will mean people picked up for little things like not having their ID cards on them probably won’t be sitting in jail for months.

But as always, there’s a catch in Cameroon. In order for someone to benefit from their newly granted legal rights, they will have to get their documents from office to office in the Ministry of Justice and prison authority. As you can imagine, this is tough to do from inside prison. There aren’t enough lawyers in Cameroon to help out every prisoner, and none of the lawyers work pro bono anyway. Most of the prisoners are poor; otherwise they would have bought their way out already. CRS, I know, is working to set up a pro bono legal service to help prisoners. But that will take time. There is a danger that people will be stuck in prison unnecessarily even with this new law (actually, that’s a guarantee). But at least the new law is there, and there is a chance for people to exercise their rights.

The second reform is electoral reform. (Why does that sound like something from Passover?) I’ve written earlier about the election reform laws snaking their way through Cameroon’s parliament. Right before Christmas, Biya and his supporters submitted their own proposals for electoral reforms, including a new electoral commission. Except their idea was to just have the president appoint some people to a temporary commission with the chance for him to renew their posts if they do a good job.

That doesn’t sound very independent to me, and it didn’t to most Cameroonians. Parliamentarians, including some from Biya’s party, diplomats and the press all cried foul. What usually happens in a situation like this is that the government ignores the outcry and does whatever it wants. Hey, it’s worked so far.

But something different happened this time. Biya caved, albeit quietly. They submitted a new law with an independent electoral commission that will be in place prior to this spring’s parliamentary elections. Not many people heard about it.

So, does this mean freedom is on the march here in Cameroon? Maybe. Cameroonians will tell you that the government is extremely good at giving up just enough to look like it’s working towards reform while still maintaining its power and the status quo. It’s a shell game, and the government usually wins.

This give on electoral reform may be different, though, since some of Biya’s supporters went against the president. That the government hasn’t trumpeted its magnanimity also makes me think there’s a bit more to this change than the usual giving an inch, taking a mile. If they were so happy with what was accomplished, why didn’t the Cameroonian authorities make a big deal about the new law? They certainly were pleased to tell Cameroonians about the law they liked but failed. I doubt that there will be a speedy opening up of Cameroonian politics, but at least there’s movement.

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All of this political and penal news came a distant second in the minds of most Cameroonians this last week.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Cameroonians know how to party.

Our New Year’s weekend was tame. On Saturday we went to pick up a TV and DVD player. We got tired of watching movies on our computers, and we wanted to finally plug in our Game Cube.

We got home and plugged in the TV. That worked, no problem. Then we plugged in the DVD player. It played most of what we had, but two things it didn’t were Dodge ball and all the Star Wars movies. That’s a deal breaker, so yesterday we returned the cheap, Chinese knock-off Samsung and bought a more expensive real Samsung DVD player. Star Wars and Dodge ball, I am happy to report, are now watchable, although some might debate that about Star Wars Episodes I, II, and III.

Then we plugged in the Game Cube. We attached it to a power transformer, and then the transformer to a power regulator. We figured we were safe. I then popped in NHL 2005, and it appeared on the screen. Excitement ensued, although I smelled the end of my journalism career.

“Do you smell something burning?” Bec asked.

It’s not rare to smell things burning in Yaoundé. People are constantly burning their trash, even rubber. So I didn’t think anything of it.

“I think it’s coming from outside,” I said.

I walked out of the room for a second, and then back in. And then I heard a small . And then I saw the black smoke coming out of the Game Cube’s power cord. That’s that, although we think it’s only the cord and not the box. The Indian guys we bought our DVD and TV from seem to think that they know a technician in Yaoundé who can fix it. Developing world knowledge. It’s fantastic.

Bec and I and the Kribi crew went to our friend Jean-Baptiste’s house for a New Year’s lunch on Sunday. JB’s wife, Jacqueline, fixed a scrumptious and huge meal of traditional Cameroonian foods. We had fried chicken, beef brochettes, salad, potato soup, carrots, greens, two massive fish, pineapple cake and watermelon. I might be forgetting something, but my stomach sure wasn’t. But the company, as always, was the highlight. Actually, the rooster crowing angrily in the yard when the chicken was served may have been the highlight. It’s a tough call.

Bec and I then spent New Year’s Eve playing board games at the house of her boss, Jennifer. At midnight, and this is where the knowing how to have a good time comes in, fireworks shot up in the distance, over the Nlongkak traffic circle. It was actually quite beautiful. We could see them from the verandah. Apparently, there were small displays like that all around Yaoundé, sponsored by the government. And Cameroonians were out dancing until 10 the next morning.

I know, bread and circuses. But what’s wrong with people having a good time every once in a while?

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Finally, a new year brings many changes. And a big one is coming for me.

Wow, who knew this would be hard to write? I always thought I'd look forward to say what I'm about to say, but I can't say I am.

It looks like I’m coming home in March, around St. Patrick’s Day, tail firmly planted between legs.

I’ve started to feel like my career is stalled, and I’m afraid that if I don’t do something to give it a jumpstart, I might permanently damage it. So I’m looking for wire service or newspaper jobs in New York and Washington, D.C.

There are many reasons why it’s difficult for me to write these words. First off, I told Bec that I’d be with her wherever she went. I also guaranteed I’d be in Cameroon for as long as her appointment goes. And I’m falling back on my word. In the long run, this is better. Publishing a story or two per month, I’m told, is pretty successful for someone living in backwaters like Rwanda and Cameroon. It just doesn’t feel that way. There are too many days where I feel like there’s nothing in front of me, and I don’t function well like that.

Next time we go abroad, and it’s going to happen, we both need to be working, and feeling like we’re being productive. I’ve always wanted to be a foreign correspondent, and that’s not going to change. But I don’t think I want to freelance anymore.

Second, I don’t like the idea of leaving Rebecca behind. She’s not coming back with me, and we don’t know when we’ll be together again. She’s got some work that she needs to finish here, and that could take awhile. As much as I need to jumpstart my career, she needs to keep working on hers. We need to get ourselves to similar levels, and this is probably the best, if most painful, way.

I keep thinking about how hard it’ll be for her to wake up one day and not find my stuff in the closet, and then come home to an empty house. I don’t like the idea of leaving her alone. It’s no fun, and will be extremely difficult. I feel like I’m abandoning her. At least going back to New York, I’ll have a lot of people there that I care about. Please don’t take this the wrong way. It’s not quite the same.

Bec feels guilty about the whole thing, which is just silly. I chose to come with her to Rwanda and Cameroon. I don’t think I evaluated the risks well, but that’s my fault. Everything I’ve accomplished here – and I recognize it has been a lot – is because of her. So she shouldn’t feel guilty at all. I feel indebted to her. In fact, I feel like I'm not tough enough to carry on here, and that doesn't feel good. This is all on me.

Third, I feel like I’ve lost. I’ve given freelancing my best shot, and I wanted to do it longer. When we came back from New York, I thought I’d make it to May and then reassess. But I don’t think I can. There are days when I feel like Sisyphus, and there are days where I feel like Indiana Jones. Except even on a lot of days when I feel like Indiana Jones, the giant stone ball crushes me. I thought freelancing would be easier, and if it wasn’t, I was good enough to make these countries interesting to editors. I was wrong, and losing is no fun.

Finally, I actually quite like Cameroon. We live comfortably in a comfortable place. We have Cameroonian friends I think the world of. The weather right now is gorgeous, cool, dry and sunny. It’s a shame I couldn’t generate more interest in Cameroon, but the country’s not bleeding, so it’s not leading.

Enough self-pity. This is the way it’s most likely going to be, and as much as it pains me to make this decision, in the long run it’s for the best.

So, why am I coming back on St. Patrick’s Day?

Well, I like Cameroon and don’t want to leave just yet, mostly. There are many places I want to go and things I want to do. Also, why go back early in the winter? Why not wait until spring is right around the corner? The hockey playoffs will be just around the corner also.

Most importantly, though, I want a freakin’ parade. So Maura, Kelly, anyone else with connections, get on the phone with Ancient Order of Hibernians. Tell them there’s a new grand marshal this year.

This decision does not mean I’ve stopped trying to make this work. I’m still writing for the Catholics (in fact, here’s a story I wrote last week Who’s this Catholic News Service guy?), and will have a pitch out to a major American paper tomorrow on the penal reform.

I haven’t bought a ticket yet, and plans could change. I could have a job earlier and leave earlier. Or a very preliminary discussion I’ve had could turn into a stringing relationship, and I could stay longer. Who knows?

But it looks much more like I’ll be back in March. Get the green beer ready.