My Own Pikins

Cameroonians often say, "that is my own" instead of "mine" or "my".  I first noticed this when I returned to Cameroon in June 2010 shortly after Eunice died.  After visiting Eunice's grave I was holding Baby Kate  in a taxi and asked if she would share her groundnuts (peanuts) with me.  She promptly said, "No, they are my own."  Since meeting Eunice in 2005 her children have become a special part of my life and I now affectionately call them my own pikins.  This past year has included many special memories with them beginning by celebrating Youth Day last February and concluding by celebrating Youth Day again and an afternoon of swimming.

Every major holiday in Cameroon is celebrated with children marching in an open field.  Below is a picture of a child holding the sign board for the Sacred Heart Primary School, where Lord, Babila, and Kate attend.        

I arrived at the field just in time to see Babila and Lord march pass wearing their brightly colored uniforms.

After the marching all of the children gather to eat rice, a special treat.  I arrived to find Kate with her friends eagerly awaiting their heaped plate of rice.

After all of the marching the children do relay races.  One of the relay races includes small children wearing nothing but their underwear and running across the field to see who can dress the fastest.  All of the other people stand around and eat food and buy special treats for the children.  One of the things I bought for my pikins was alaska, which is really nothing more then frozen colored water.  I bought it shortly after Peter and I shared a memory of Eunice making alaska and ice cream and selling it for Youth Day years ago.

Baby Kate is not such a baby any more, even though she corrects people if they just call her Kate.  The days of her falling asleep in my arms are fleeting as she is getting older, but the days of making her laugh by tickling her I think will still be around for awhile.

The day after Youth Day, I took Peter and the kids to a pool that recently opened in Bamenda.  Considering that they have never been in a bathtub, much less of a swimming pool, they had no idea what to expect.  I spent an afternoon searching through heaps of European cast-off clothes lying on the ground in the market to find swimsuits for everyone and was fairly successful.  Kate's swimsuit took some innovation, but we made it work.

Thankfully I was able to borrow some water wings from a Baptist missionary to prevent everyone, including, Peter, from drowning.

Babila was scared by the water and the first time he went in he only lasted about 5 seconds before scrambling out.  He preferred to spend the time sitting in a raft in the kids pool.

And after the two days of intense stimulation and fun, there was nothing left to do, but sleep.

One Year

Friday, May 7, 2010. For weeks this date loomed in the back of my mind. It was the day all of the paperwork had to be ready to submit to the Nestle Foundation for our research grant. I spent that morning finalizing the necessary documents and came home exhausted and wondering if we really had everything together. Not long after I arrived home, my phone rang. “Sister Kate, this is Mr. Peter. I’m calling to tell you that Eunice died today.” Silence. I knew the phone call from Cameroon was expensive and there was no time to ask questions and even if there was, I didn't know what to say. I simply said thank you and hung up the phone. Thus began the long, slow process of grieving the loss of a good friend. 

Eunice was my closest friend when I lived here before in Bafut. She realized that a young female Peace Corps Volunteer would have trouble living in a small village in Cameroon. She made my problems of growing food and taking care of my health and home her problem. She taught me the meaning of my favorite Pidgin English word, ashia. In American English, ashia means, “I see your problem, I share with you.” It is a very useful word and used to show respect, to greet others, or to demonstrate concern and care for another. One day when I was running, fell, and hurt my knee, the first word Eunice said to me was “Ashia.” When I found her hauling water to keep my garden growing in the dry season I would tell her, “Ashia.” During my two years in Bafut, Eunice and I bonded through many joys and challenges. She stayed with me the night after thieves attempted to break into my house. She encouraged me and affirmed my work when often I felt like I was failing as a Peace Corps Volunteer. She confided in me when her husband was unfaithful. She cried on my shoulder when her uncle died. It is common in Cameroon for people to call each other “Brother”, “Sister”, “Aunt” and “Uncle” when they really aren’t related. We called each other Sister Eunice and Sister Kate not just out of respect, but to demonstrate the depth of our relationship.

Working in garden.  I insisted that we planted groudnuts in addition to the corn and beans.

Shortly after I left Cameroon in 2007, Eunice gave birth to her third child. The baby girl was given the name Kate because according to Eunice, “The baby's coming to my life is a surprise just as Kate who came to as a surprise and very loving to me.” I knew that Eunice didn't want to have anymore children, but after I met Baby Kate in March 2009 it was obvious that Baby Kate was her joy.

Eunice and Baby Kate in 2009

Eunice with her sons Lord and Babila and Baby Kate

After I returned from that visit to Cameroon, Eunice emailed me to tell me that she was diagnosed with gastric cancer. She received chemotherapy treatment in Yaoundé and for a few months, she was better. I will never forget the phone call when she told me, "Sister Kate, I'm better! They told me I wouldn't live, but God is in control and I'm alive!" Then in January of 2010, she got worse. She went to a hospital not far from where I live now and had a hysterectomy. She was in the hospital for over a month and each time I would call she would tell me that Baby Kate was with her. Occasionally she would put the phone next to Baby Kate and she would just giggle. Over time the phone calls became more somber as her cancer progressed and she contracted hepatitis B and C. Each time she would ask me to come and take care of her children. In April of 2010 she begged that I would come see her before she died. My mom and I booked flights to visit in June, but we arrived a month and half after she died.

Eunice's grave

Part of the reason that I chose to do my doctoral research in Cameroon was so I could come back to Cameroon and be close to Eunice’s family, to keep my promise to her that I would look after her children. It has been joyful to visit them for Youth Day, Kate’s birthday, and Easter, but also very difficult. I see Eunice’s tenacity in Kate, her broad smile in Babila, and dependability in Lord and wish she were here. I wish she were here to listen to Kate laugh and see how Babila and Lord take care of their sister and other household chores. I wish she were here to see that I did come back to Cameroon and am building on what she taught me about solidarity with others and how to survive in Cameroon. When Peter, Eunice’s husband invited me to attend a small memorial service last week to commemorate the year anniversary of Eunice’s death, I knew I had to be there, but also knew that it would be hard. I knew that it would conjure up everything I learned and experienced this past year in grieving the loss of a good friend—the questions, the guilt, the sorrow, the anger, the disbelief. But I went. I went and cried with Babila and reminded him that it is okay to cry and miss his mother. I held Kate as she cried herself to sleep in my arms. Lord and Babila drew pictures to remember their mother. Babila drew a picture of a tree because, “Trees make places to be nice and my mama made places to be nice.” Lord drew a picture of him helping his mother making frozen ice cream. Kate just copied her brothers and enjoyed the new colored pencils.

Babila and his picture of a tree

But we also laughed and ate good food.  Lord and Babila love to play with my camera and we took a lot of "snaps".  Their reiliency never ceases to amaze me and am honored that they call me, "Sister Kate".

Those who have died live on in me and inspire me with their example and the rich legacy of love from their earthly lives. Their lives touch mine. Their lives make a difference in mine. As part of a family or community we make the dead part of our members so as to receive the gift of their spirits. Loved ones who have died are remembered in worship and prayers, in conversations, with photographs, and by visiting their graves. Life goes on, but with their rememberance enriching our lives.

Henri Nouwen, Finding My Way Home

Youth Day 2011

Cameroon has two major political holidays.  The biggest is National Independence Day on the 20^th of May and the second is Reunification Day on the 11^th of February.  The day is supposed to commemorate when the two Cameroons, the area in the Northwest that opted to join Nigeria after a UN-sponsored referendum and the rest of Cameroon, formed a centralized United Republic of Cameroon.  This unification was hotly contested by the citizens in the Northwest Region who believe that because of linguistic and cultural differences a true and fair union is not possible and they have become second-class citizens.  In an effort to prevent political dissension the 11^th of February has been reinvented to Youth Day and very little is mentioned about unification.  

On Youth Day all of the school children gather in various fields and stadiums across the country and march in their school uniforms past a panel of judges.  The judges determine which school’s children march and look the best.  After the march pass, the children have races and engage in traditional dances.  It’s a big day for the children as they practice for days their marching, songs, and dances before the actual day.  On the day of the event, they wake up very early to wash their uniform and look as neat as possible, which is not easy at this time of year as everywhere is covered with thick, red dust which worsens with each harmattan wind blowing through in the afternoon.     

This past Tuesday I decided that the best place to spend Youth Day would be in Bafut.  This was not an easy decision because transportation is unreliable and the roads to get from Kumbo to Bafut are terrible.  Going to Bafut for Youth Day would require me to leave Thursday afternoon for Bamenda, stay the night there, go to Bafut on Friday, return to Bamenda  Friday night, and come back to Kumbo on Saturday.   But I knew Eunice’s children would be marching in Bafut and like a true auntie, I braved the journey to see Lord, Babila, and Kate.  I also figured it would be a good opportunity to see everyone in Bafut again and tell them that I am now working in Kumbo.  Once I was there and saw the children proudly march past and then spend the afternoon with them I knew it was well worth the trip. 

Lord, Kate, and Babila before the March Pass

Kate holding the sign board for the Pre Nursery Class at Sacred Heart Preschool and Primary School.  I have no idea why the kids are wearing crowns made out of construction paper on their heads.

Babila in the middle, marching past

Kate playing with me after her march finished

All of that marching and playing makes Kate very tired and she fell asleep in my arms

This was from Youth Day in 2006 when Babila held the sign board for the Pre-Nursery Class.  Its been neat to go back to Bafut and see how the children have grown and changed after five years.