Homage to Ndeh Ntumazah, 1926-2010: The Last of the Five Original Nationalists Departs this World

The Union des Populations du Cameroun (UPC) was the original nationalist political party of Cameroon. Five men constituted the public face of the party as its leaders: Ruben Um Nyobe (1913-1958), Ouandie Ernest (1924-1971), Abel Kingue (1924-1964), Felix Roland Moumiė (1925-1060), and Ndeh Ntumazah (1926-2010). On January 21, 2010 Ndeh Ntumazah, the last of the original five, departed this world at the age of 83. Ntumazah was the youngest of the five when he joined the U.P.C. in 1948 at age 22, and was also the last to die. As the main link between nationalism in French Cameroun and British Southern Cameroons, he played a pivotal role propagating the political program of the UPC in English-speaking Cameroon and was probably the man responsible for unification of the two Cameroons. Had the vicissitudes of history not intervened to unravel the nationalist program of the UPC, Cameroon would probably be a different country today. 

But historical forces beyond the control of the young nationalists intervened and, one by one the forces of neo-colonialism conspired against them in a variety of ways that resulted in the elimination of the mortgagor Um Nyobe at age 45 in 1958 and the fire-brand Moumié at 35 in 1960,the death of the revolutionary Kingue at 40 in 1964, the public assassination of the indefatigable freedom fighter Ouandie at 47 in 1971, and the passing the longest living original five Ntumazah in 2010. With the departure of Ntumazah the burning flame of a unique kind of nationalism in all of Africa, a nationalism born of conviction and love country, flickered and died out. Can this flame be recaptured by succeeding generations?

At the founding the UPC in 1948, the oldest of these men was Um Nyobe at 35. Ouandie and Kingue were 24. Although Moumié and Ntumazah were not present in Douala at the founding of the UPC, they, too, were only 22 and 23 years old, respectively. Something bound these men together, something many young Cameroonians as well as the older ones of our day do not possess. It was love of country, commonly referred as patriotism, and a strong conviction about their mission. These men were born in different regions of the European colonized territory of Cameroon, at a time when the cancer of tribalism and sectionalism had not contaminated the people. We lament the passing of a golden era that never came to fruition.

It is indeed a strange political commentary about Cameroon, that the nationalists who seemed to love their country most and endeavored, albeit unsuccessfully, to provide the best quality of life for their compatriots never held political office; that we are forced to remember them not by the political actions they executed as political leaders of a state but by the political dreams they articulated for their country and fellow countrymen. Unlike his colleagues whose lives came to premature endings, Ntumazah lived long enough to have played a role in shaping the destiny of his beloved country. But the some forces made it impossible for him to do so. These forces did not emanate from afar. In politics and religion as in life in general, the mortal enemy is not the man from a distant place who knows nothing about you; it is usually a brother or a close friend, the one nearest and in whom we bestow great confidence, who betrays you. When the life of Ntumazah is fully studied, it will be found that his was no exception; it was much like befell his comrade Um Nyobe some fifty-one years ago. 

The Guru Encounters the Legend

Nearly eleven years ago I was privileged to make an encounter with history in the person of Ndeh Ntumazah. The month was April and the year 1999. I hard requested a week off from my duties at the University of Buea to do field research in Bamenda. It was supposed to be a follow-up to my 1989 investigation of the “Catholic Women’s Association (C.W.A.) and Cameroon Politics.” The late Mrs. Regina Ngen, a longtime member of the Mezam branch C.W.A. had assisted me in gaining access to the records of the association in 1989 when Ms. Susan Awa was the "Animator" (Coordinator) of the Mezam Diocese C.W.A.

According to the records of the association, the C.W.A. was born in Buea. Mrs. Anna Foncha founded the association in 1964, after she secured the approval of Bishop Jules Peeters. Its founding members were drawn from some of the elite political families of West Cameroon. Madam Anna Foncha, Founder and President; Mrs. Prudence Chilla, Vice President; Mrs. Josepha Mua, First Secretary; Mrs. Mary Lebaga, Member; Mrs. Rosaline Anoma, Member; Mrs. Nathalia Jua, Member; Mrs. Elizabeth Tamanjong, Member; and Mrs. Joana Ngong, Member. Some of these women would later play prominent roles in national politics.

When I returned to Bamenda ten years later in 1999, many changes had taken place within the Mezam branch C.W.A. Mrs. Regina Ngen had passed away and Ms. Susan Awa was no longer the Mezam diocese C.W.A. animator. I did not have the opportunity to meet the new animator but spoke with her over the telephone. She was gracious and offered to fill me in on the changes that had taken place over the last decade. However, the week I spent in Bamenda coincided with some momentous events: the SDF National Convention scheduled to convene in Yaounde and the death of elderly statesman John Ngu Foncha. 

Bamenda was bustling with excitement. Everyone who was politically anybody seemed to be busy either preparing to travel to Yaounde for the annual convention of John Fru Ndi’s Scocial Democratic Front (S.D.F), or frantically preparing for the funeral ceremony of the late John Ngu Foncha. As a consequence of this, many appointments that coincided with these events were either cancelled or rescheduled Priority was given to observing days of mourning for the late statesman and to attending the convention of the leading opposition party in the nation. My research agenda took a back seat to these events of moment as the movers and shakers of Mankon directed their energies to more important callings. I had no other choice but to look for another research angle. That’s how I stumbled on the political legend, Ndeh Ntumazah. Thanks to my friend Simon Chi.

 I had promised to write two or more articles from the long audio taped interviews I had with Pa Ntu, as Ntumazah was popularly referred to in Mankon, spanning three whole days. But the tapes turned out to be bad, losing their audibility shortly after I left Cameroon for the United States in July 1999. I am relying solely on the notes I jotted down while Pa Ntu recounted his encounter with destiny. These interviews were conducted at his home in Mankon, Bamenda, about a mile or so from my village of Ngomngang.

Simon had also made preliminary arrangements for me to interview Pa Foncha and the S..D.F. Chairman Ni John Fru Ndi. But I had gone to Buea to teach as a Fulbright Scholar and my responsibilities to the University of Buea took precedence over all other endeavors. I could not just travel to Bamenda whenever I pleased. I needed permission from the university. And so my delayed departure cost me the opportunity to engage Pa Foncha and Ni John Fru in one-on-one interviews. The loss was mine, and perhaps, that of Cameroon, too.

That spiritual ethos, which leads to the ultimate transformation of men and women from mere citizens or subjects to nationalists, takes hold of people at different junctures of their lives. Some are born nationalists but do not rise to nationalism until that proper historical conjuncture in their lives when people and events converge to trigger a latent spark into flaming proportions; others become nationalists because of certain "cataclysmic" events that unexpectedly alter the trajectory of their lives. The youthful Ndeh Ntumazah was a product of the latter category. He was at the right place and right time and stumbled on the U.P.C. at its infancy. 

Ndeh Ntumazah was born in Mankon, Bamenda in 1926. He moved to French Cameroun as a young man to join an elder brother who operated a butcher’s shop near Mbam. One sultry afternoon the local French colonial administrator sent his "boy" (African servant) to pick up a chunk of beef from the butcher’s shop. As a helper of his brother, Ndeh Ntumazah was manning the butchery when the servant came. He cut and handed over to the servant a chunk of beef. A few minutes later the servant returned with the beef, explaining that his master wanted a piece cut from a different part. Ndeh refused to honor the request.

Young Ndeh was locking up the butcher’s shop when the French administrator and his black servant trailing behind him with the chunk of beef came knocking. Red-faced and angry that the young African had rejected his highness’ command, he demanded that Ndeh should comply immediately. But Ndeh refused to do as ordered. This kind of defiance from a young African was unheard of in colonial Africa. Taken aback, alarmed and ostensibly angry, the European administrator slapped Ndeh Ntumazah. And Ndeh retorted by slapping the white man. A scuffle ensued, which amounted to something of a wrestling match between the colonial administrator and Ndeh Ntumazah. Ndeh lifted the white man high above the earth and slammed him on the ground. He applied blow after blow on the helpless, over-powered French administrator who lay under him in complete surrender. A small crowd of admiring spectators assembled to behold something of a marvel, something they had never before seen: an African pounding on a white man, and not just any white man, but the local administrator who was not much liked by the people. Indeed, this was the kind of "stuff" from which legends are made.

This incident was taken to the tribunal, where Ndeh Ntumazah, about 22 years old at the time, was tried for insubordination rather than self-defense. Found guilty, Ndeh ’s punishment was expulsion from French Cameroun. He was ordered to leave the territory in 21 days and never to return to any part of French Cameroun. That year was 1948.

Ndeh Ntumazah had to return home to Bamenda, in British Southern Cameroons. On his way back to Bamenda, Ndeh decided to pass through Douala to visit with other family members and tell them about his permanent explulsion from Cameroun. It was while in Douala that he learned about a new movement that was bent on fighting colonial repression and exploitation in Cameroun, and expelling the French if possible. This was good news for the young radical. This was a rendezvous with destiny. Instead of returning to Bamenda as planned, Ndeh Ntumazah sought the company of Um Nyobe, Abel Kingue, and Ernest Ouandie, and effectively became a member of the U.P.C.

Tearing Apart the Veil of Time

The exploits of Pa Ntu are numerous. He told us of the time they spent in Accra, Ghana, under the protection of then President Kwame Nkrumah. The threats and assassination plots against them were numerous. We were particularly interested about his abilities to fly and disappear. The old man laughed, and retorted: "There is no truth to that!"

Konde: "So what truth is there about these stories that have made you a legend?"

Pa Ntu: "Well, we had contacts everywhere, inside and outside of government, who informed us about every plan against us. This gave us ample time to move out to other locations before government forces arrived. From the 1960s through the 1980s I entered and left Cameroon as I pleased. Thus arose the legend about Ntumazah’s disappearing and flying acts. Of course, we all know that no human being can fly."

Konde: "Were you a terrorist?"

Pa Ntu: "No. I am a liberation fighter."

Konde: "What manner of men were your colleagues: Um, Moumié, Kingue, and Ouandie?"

Pa Ntu: "These were the best of men one could hope to work with. We had a nice time here in my house in the 1950s. Um was older than the rest of us. The man could dress well and many women found him attractive."

Konde: "What other exploits stand out?"

Pa Ntu: "In 1963, we [the UPC] needed some money. I was commissioned to get the money from Soppo Priso. I told Soppo to either give me the money or I would take it."

Konde: "Was the money given or taken?"

Pa Ntu: "He gave me the money."

Konde: "Was there ever a language problem amongst you, given that you were English-speaking and they were French-speaking?"

Pa Ntu: "Not at all. I had lived in French Cameroun and could speak French. Our concern was not so much with language; it had to do with our struggle."

Konde: "All these years that you were out, living in Accra, Conakry, Cairo, and various places in Europe. What did you do for a living?"

Pa Ntu: "The UPC had connections with almost every government. At first we were treated as wards of the state. But as time went on we had to eke out a living for ourselves. In England I worked for a long time parking cars as a valet in an underground garage where I could hide. I saved a lot of money doing that."

Konde "How does it feel to be in Cameroon after all these years?"

Pa Ntu: "It feels good. You know just too well that ’home is home’."

With huge portraits of his fallen U.P.C. colleagues strewn on the floor of his house, it appeared as though Pa Ntu was in communion with them. One photo was missing: that of Felix Roland Moumié. Pa Ntu believed it must have been stolen by one of the many researchers who often visit him.. There were two pictures of Um Nyobe, one of which was probably shot from a newspaper clip. As Um fell under the bullets of French colonialism in 1958, he is noted to have murmured: "Mon Pays, tu seras independant." A portraiture of Abel Kingue (1928-1963), a group portrait of Ntumazah, Kingue and Ouandie, and one of all the five nationalist leaders (Um, Moumié, Ouandie, Ntumazah, and Kingue) encircling the UPC symbol, the Black Crab in red background, completed Pa Ntu’s collection. 

Through the spiritual intervention of Ndeh Ntumazah, a spunky frail looking old man with receding gray hair, It seemed to writer as though the old man had guided him through the years, helped him penetrate the veil of time by summon the historical imagination that enabled them to transcend time and space and to come face-to-face with the past. Once there this student of history felt a strange but overwhelming sensation, as if he were in the presence of the departed, engaging the historical actors in conversation, asking them why they did what they did. 

This conversation, which took place via the medium of the historical imagination, brought me closer to the dead nationalist heroes as I glimpsed into their political world and began to understand their actions through their own mental world and in terms of their own times, not ours. Pa Ntu led me into the political lives of the UPC leaders, and thus to an understanding of what nationalism really means. He now joins his colleagues Um Nyobe, Felix Moumie, Abel Kingue, and Ernest Ouandie. The five have reunited again, not as the young men of 1948, but as old political sages inhabiting a spiritual world. What political miracles are these five going to wrought from the other world? 

Emmanuel Konde