Tuesday, November 20, 2018
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Letter From Buea To Yaoundé 

Dear Ngwa,

A little bird told me that the media weevils and other “over-sabis” have been telling you to your face that “meal ticket” or not, they would continue feeding like bloated pigs from the garbage cans of the Hilton. And that even as they scavenge, they would continue to dish out unsolicited, didactic lessons on what it takes to become anything in the “penning” business. It sometimes pays to stay on the sidelines and watch fools, organizing feasts for wise men to enjoy.

That is why I have elected to ignore all the vicious crap that is regularly served on the forum, wherein everyone else is a teacher, even if when “teaching” they soil the public place of ideas in by telling the rest of us how they are re-inventing the wheel. But hey! Do you remember the good old days of our elementary school, when we would, albeit curtly, tell off the braggarts by simply sending them to Coventry? When the perennial noise makers were impolitely reminded that “the best answer to a fool is to remain silent…”

Then it was that kids were not teaching their teachers, let alone describing the size and contours of their parents’ genitals to their peers. Time was, when humility still counted and when surgeons were careful not to give cosmetic lessons to journalists, nor tell the Judge how to adjudicate on strictly legal issues.

Yes, time was, when kite-flying kids stopped at flying their cardboard kites; they did not teach trained pilots how to take off and land aircraft, even if they had taken basic lessons in physics.
Ngwa, a rare exception to this rule was the late Patriarch, the Nakuve of Mokunda village here in Buea. As of right, he could appear as a forensic expert in court, on the strength of having qualified as a Forensic Pharmacist before branching off to read law and being called to the Bar.

Yes, he was a man of many parts; a man whose knowledge and articulation of the Queen’s “kontri talk” was formidable. He was, as we were wont to put it in our elementary school days, a paragon of elocution. Consequently, if he decided to opt into forensics, nay, forensic evidence, or why not, forensic medicine, whereby, he would easily interpret evidence using scientific or technical facts, no one would have raised a finger.

The Late Chief Endeley, could, if he wished, wade into medical jurisprudence and it would be accepted. But he remained modest; only serving his people in law, the other profession in which he had elected to become functional.

Ngwa, I suggest that those who are imbued with just a little more than a nodding knowledge of strategic communication, but who have creditably made their mark and are worth every pinch of salt in their chosen spheres of learning, should drop this “over-sabi” syndrome and serve the public to effect, with just what they know and are experts at.

At the very best, if they so love the communication limelight, then, why not do like the great Sanjay Gupta of the CNN fame? Get back into the classroom, take formal lessons in medical communication or something of the sort and then squarely and fairly belong to the Joneses!

By the way Ngwa, ask this top class scientist if he followed Prime Minister, David Cameron a few days ago as he talked of tasking the media regulators of Great Britain, to ensure that media content was checked, just so lives don’t continue to be unnecessarily lost to religious bigots and zealots.

Now, back to Cameroon, can it be said that up to five percent of the media that have so far been sanctioned by the NCC, (which has become the convenient pin cushion of cowards and internet teachers) came about because they threatened the regime? Definitely NO! The day shall come when one would expect to see the unsolicited do-gooders step up, call a brass band and celebrate, when characteristic sleaze would have been splashed on them by the journalistic street urchins they are defending with idiotic commitment.

Ngwa, You sabi say wuna get big liver? How could you have afforded to chase the “electoral gainako” away from his own cattle? And you did so, without the slightest compunction; without recourse to the fact that all he was out for was protecting the master’s personal pastures…the rest of us!

You could have knocked me down with a feather when the news of the sack hit the airwaves. In any case, after recovering from the shock of the rare decision, I simply reminded myself that sometimes, in fact, very often, it is not good to resort to being more Celestial than the Heavenly Angels, or more Catholic than the Pope.

Greet your body for me!

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