Monday, September 28, 2020
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Dear Mbella, 

Dear Mbella,
         — A strong man is not the one who never falls, but the one who quickly springs to his feet after kissing the dust. The comatose that caused our epistolary bid to lie in state, was a combination of design and circumstantial conspiracy.

It is interesting that while we remained mute, Rafama, he of the Kondengui government, sustained the “penning” hostilities, directing his missiles at Saul Etoudi. We were in an imposed sabbatical caring little about a period during which a lot of water passed under the bridge. Forgive me for the cliché-ridden sentence for even the linguistic purists have not been able to overcome the undying influence of clichés. Don’t blame her! Aminatou, daughter of Baba Toure, who lies fallow in Senegal, went straight for the Machiavellian soap-boxing.

It was a shady deal struck within confines of the dark room agenda of the Central Committee. Yet, the brass-stacks were that the damsel of fine and equal parts in the “C” kaba ngondo sang the “C” love song for a fee. Her pockets, she lined. After singing the love doxology with an angelic and mellifluous voice that tickled the libido of lechers, she left with her pockets bulging with the tax payers’ sweat.

We usually mooted in our days of romantic adventure that “love is blind and can fall on a rock”. No doubt that Aminatou gave in to the “mubutu” who chased the man who sired her to thy kingdom come. Pessimists and sadists have called it the worst form of betrayal and Iagoism. Others say it is a reconciliation romance. Yet, it portrays the elasticity of the soap box game, whose rules must hearken to permanent interest and not permanent enemies or friends.

And the NCC hammer fell on the sensational sheets the other day. I saw it coming because L’ordre reignera”. Even the njang dance has its rules and mores. Any new dancer who gambles to the floor must first watch when the professional dancers are turning left or right. It must be so otherwise you quit the dancing floor.

The sycophants, who are telling the perpetrators of the pen quagmire that even in their indecent hurburly they are as infallible as the 1870 Pope, are enemies. But mark you, what the NCC is planning is pregnant and nursing a baby at the same time. The slammer by that team of the dyed-in-the wool professional journalists has been saluted as a messianic bid. It is the beginning of the end of anarchy. It will lead to the obliteration of the madness wherein professional excellence has been relegated to the back-burner, whereas mediocrity is made a virtue.

Since we seem to be graduating from the double talk and double speak syndrome, it should be stated in no unmistaken terms that the quacks may be few but they own the place. Not so the political landscape. There are close to 300 parties which are all scrambling for the “Essingan” dinning table. This means that apart from C which frankly says l’etat c’est moi, every other party is okirika. That is why the so-called leading opposition is only gunning for 69 out of the 180 seats at the Ngoa-Ekelle Glass House.

This means that, before the September 30 “Selection”, the great party has 111 seats. After all, C is CAMELE and CAMELE is C. The party has all the State institutions as its supporters. Name them: the constitutional court, the highest court of the land, the administrative bench.

Mbella, I am always appalled by the myopia in the opposition who seem to be hoping against hope. Before I sign out, let me thank the Administrative Bench for creating the Tiko C list which did not exist in the first place. Of course the bench could not bite the finger that feeds it.

God bless you.
My regards to Enanga,
Yours sincerely, Ngwa

First published in The Post print edition no 01464