Grassfields Stories from Cameroon

1. Marriage Of Convenience

1 1Marriage Of Convenience hen Mbionyi received his Baccalaureate degree from the hands of the Vice-Chancellor of the University of Penamboko, he said to himself that those years of hardship were over. Smiling from ear to ear he hugged and shook hands with his relatives who had come to see him graduate. Every member of his family was present at the commencement ceremony. Even his 89-year-old grandmother, enfeebled by Parkinson’s disease, was in attendance. She had served as a surrogate mother for the young man when his mother died following a cesarean section. “I thank you my child. Thank you very much for making me proud today. Who wouldn’t be proud to have a son like you? You can call the white man’s book and speak through your nostrils like the white man. I am a very proud old woman today. I only wish your mother were here to share this great joy with me,” the haggard woman said, wiping abundant tears from her wrinkled face. “It is all because of you, granny. You did your best to see me grow up,” Mbionyi said, holding her emaciated arms. “My creator may call me now. I will go with joy in my heart,” the old woman said, holding her grandson in her bony hands. When the ceremony was over, Mbionyi went home in the company of his jubilant relatives and friends. Dressed in a charcoal gray three-piece suit and a pair of black leather shoes, the 22-year-old man led the homebound procession, holding his Bachelor of Science W 2 degree in his muscular hands. He gallivanted on stubby legs and winked at the young ladies in the crowd as if to seduce them. His friends kept badgering him with questions about his future career. When they reached home, his father asked him an unexpected question. “This big certificate of yours will open all kinds of doors for you, isn’t that right, my son?” The sexagenarian hadn’t said a word since they set out on the return journey from Penamboko. Sixty miles separated them from the village of Menka. If they had a car, it would have taken them less than an hour to get home. Hiring a taxi would have meant spending a whole year’s income from their farm produce. They had to walk home. “Papa, with a certificate like this I will be able to work in any office I want in this country,” the young man said confidently. He was very proud of his achievement. He had worked very hard to earn an honors degree in plant science. It was pitch dark when they got home. They were tired but happy. An illustrious son of the soil had just returned with a great booty. Mbionyi’s father, who equated his son’s achievement to killing a lion, had bought a five-year-old cow for his son’s graduation party. The very day his son set foot in the white man's school, he knew that one day he would come back like a hero. Female members of the family had cooked basketsful of delicious food: fufu and njama-njama soup, koki and ripe plantains, ero and water-fufu, calabar yams, kpa coco, and egusi soup. There was alcohol galore: manjunga, jobajo, odontol, matango, nkang, kwacha, mbu, fofo and palm-wine. They ate and danced to favorite makossa and mangangbeu tunes till dawn. Mbionyi woke up the following morning feeling ill at ease. In the midst of the excitement, he had not given thought to how he would get to Yaoundé in order to apply 3 for a job. To apply for a job he had to travel to the nation’s capital. All applicants were required to personally submit their applications at the Ministry of the Public Service and be interviewed there. Yaoundé was some 2200 miles away from home. He couldn’t cover that distance on foot. He needed the sum of 10.000 CFA francs to pay his fare. He didn’t have the money. Worse still, he knew nobody in the capital city. “Where will I live during my job search in Yaoundé?” the young man asked his father. “When you get to Yaoundé, try your best to find Chui Bah’s son. He lives in that city. He’ll give you a place to sleep. A tribesman is a brother...