The baobab falls

All along I have been made to understand that politics is a dirty game. But with time and my indirect involvement in politics not exactly as a politician but as a journalist on the sidelines, watching idly as the chariots of those that move the world, pass me by, I have come to realise how politics can change its form from a dirty game to some kind of glorifying acrobatic stunts that, not everyone can easily understand.

The secret here is that one has to descend much lower than morals permit, in order for one to be accepted among the angels in the heavenly world where power has its throne. In some faiths, there is the belief that the dead are not yet dead. And so, they are simply transmitted to some other corner of the world, where they open their eyes wide to see how those still alive appraise their stay on earth. Their ears are left wide open to hear how well or bad you speak of them.

This is precisely why no one dares speak badly about a dead person especially by his graveside in the last minutes before interment. That is why those who might be given the opportunity to speak by the graveside will only sing praises. “He was a good man, kind, humble,” etc

Cameroon and the business community in general and the Cameroon People’s Democratic Movement in particular were taken aback when the news of Madam Francoise Foning’s death was announced.

She had earlier been involved in a ghastly motor accident over the weekend. She died during a desperate attempt to evacuate her to France, through a hospitalized plane that was to convey her. She died a few minutes after the arrival of the plane.

All I can say as my condolences is that a baobab has fallen and the echoes of a captivating voice in the political wilderness have been silenced.

Sometimes too, I tend to believe that in our last moments before death finally silences us, we face a wide screen in which all our actions, both good and evil appear. Most of the times we see very clearly that we actually played the political game, scoring our points through the wrong goal post.

At other occasions, we see where we stepped on the toes of those we called our adversaries. Or sometimes we burn the bridges that took us across to paradise, thus closing the way for others.

The bad news here is that she was dying with the memories of her enemies while still alive in her last hour. ‘They failed in their attempt to send me to jail; they have succeeded with the car accident”. She is quoted as saying when in pains after the accident.

This is indeed a very tormenting reflection in the life of person whose fame knew no bounds. Someone who could knock on any door and it will be opened, stroll on the corridors of power anywhere in the business world.

For her party the CPDM, it is a big loss. For the business community, it is a missing link. But for the overall Cameroonian society, not indeed a good image model.