The day was Wednesday as I sat in my room contemplating where I would spent my day. The Anglophone crisis had just started in 2016 when my friend at UB Junction saved me from the hands of Cameroon’s gendarmmes. University of Buea students were protesting, as a result, classes were halted. We never went to school for about 2 months.
Lying on the bed and thinking, Great Soppo, Buea was boring. I decided to walk around.
My journey started at Street 2 Junction down to Moki garage. I turned on the left. I trekked through bakweri town to Small Soppo.
There, I opted to visit places which I had heard only in history. Coming from Takov in the grassfield, I had never seen a seasite.
As I was descending on foot, I saw Tole Tea. It was wonderful. I learned about Tole during my Geography study in form five. The greenery was amazing. I walked passed the tea plantation in amusement.
Another thing got me excited. This time it was Sasse. I was taught ST Joseph college Sasse was the first Mission Secondary School in West Cameroon.
“Is Limbe too far from here?” I asked a man working in his farm.
“Is just down there” he replied.
I was excited to see myself in Limbe. I kept on trekking, passing through bushes, I had never been to Limbe before.
Suddenly, I saw myself at Wotutu. I like that place so much. There I drank enough water. After every 100 metres, was a tap. I loved the commercial activities there. I descended again. The time was 2:30pm, and I left the house at 9am. I was at Bonalikondo, mile 4 limbe. If I continued my journey to the seasite resort town of Limbe, something might had happened. I made a decision. I knew going by my left, I will be heading to Mutegene.
I thought that immediately after mile 4, was Mutegene. I asked one man whether the road was leading to Mutegene and back to Buea and he said ‘yes’. As I embarked on my journey, he followed me. “Why are you trekking to Mutegene?” He asked.
“I just want to exercise my body” I responded.
I started walking in the middle of Palm plantation. It was fun seeing the orderliness in the plantation. When planting in our farm we mixed every thing in one ridge, violating the rules of planting.
Before I reached Boliwe, I was already tired. That was when I realized why the man at Mile 4 was asking why I was trekking to Mutegene. May be he wanted to help. “You don’t have money for a taxi” I remembered him asking.
At Boliwe, I sat down and I bought enough banana for FCFA100. My last oins were FCFA 400. No water to drink apart from Matango. I could not drank Matango because of my Muslim background.
I trekked, trekked, trekked through Umbe where I saw a large brasseries depot.
At Mutegene it was about 4pm. A child ran up to me. “Uncle, I have not eaten since morning. I am hungry” the little boy said.
Out of FCFA 400, I gave him 100 to buy something and eat. Then I bought sachets water and drank. At the Buea park in Mutegene, the transport fair was FCFA 300. I was left with FCFA250.
I had in mind that after Mutegene was mile 17. I started ascending then I saw a signboard. On it, it was written “Mile 14” that was when something came to my mind that Mile 15, 16 and 17 were still far away.
Trekking under the sun, the sweat from my body could form an ocean. I begged water from people watering flowers.
At mile 17, I was at the verge of colapsing. I saw a man riding a bike. I pleaded with him to help me. He stopped and I climbed. He did not say I should.
When we reached Mile 17 he spoke in french. I didn’t understand but I knew he was asking me whether I was stepping down there. He was going to Muea I suggested. I alighted and a took a taxi to Street Two Junction. Three days flat, I was only lying on the bed. My lapse were paining. It was a journey of about 20 kilometers
It was a world of wonder.