The news fell like a bomb. Auntie Philomène was alone again. Two years earlier, she had decided to emigrate to Douala, the economic capital of …
A good friend of mine travels a lot for work. She sells software in the automotive dealer space and covers part of the company’s southern region.She …
In my childhood in Yaoundé, Cameroon, adults had the exasperating habit of speaking to us children in metaphors. It was rare to have a conversation …
As the dust settled from the last presidential election cycle, many have attempted to explain America's political shift to the right. While some …
Every year during my childhood, hundreds of villagers would arrive in my shanty neighborhood of Fanta Citron in Mvog-Ada, Yaoundé, Cameroon, in …
In the multitude of paradoxes of the adults of my childhood at Fanta Citron in Mvog Ada in Yaoundé, Cameroon, there was one that stood out. The …
It was the traditional dish whose preparation my mother and aunts could not master. Very few women could. The pumpkin seed cake, called Nnam Ngon in …
Uncle Bisseau was Zen. Nothing could bother him. He hummed every time we passed him. Not even the regular attempts of uncle Etoundi, who tried to …
Noman is an island,” the English poet John Donne wrote, arguing that “every man is a piece of the Continent, a part of the main.” And yet, such an …
In the week before the election, I wrote two articles predicting that Kamala Harris would win in the 2024 election, not by a whisker but in a …
