What an unfortunate situation. Like many other problems that have been left unattended or explained away by "witchcraft" or other means, addressing the problem of alcoholism in Cameroon is long over due. There are many alcoholics, but sadly little or nothing is being done to solve their problem. Many wives are battered by drunken husbands, many lives are lost by drivers driving under the influence. Many children are under fed because Papa spent most of his salary in the bar at the end of the month.
Do not be quick to explain this away and say other countries drink. The fact that other countries have this problem does not mean that we should not look for possible solutions. Remember to take out the log from your own eye before you can take out the spark of sand from another person's eye.
There are too many liquor houses in the country and little or nor restriction on who and when to buy alcohol. Parents initiate their children at a very early age by sending them to buy alcoholic drinks for visitors and guests. No doubt when the kids grow up a majority of them drink. We are all aware of the impact of this habit even in the diaspora. How many have had car crashes and lost their lives because they were driving under the influence?. Please let us not dismiss it again and try to explain it by saying they were bewitched etc.
It is shocking that some drivers in Cameroon claim that when they drink it clears their eyes and make then better drivers. This is a lie and far from reality, for research points other wise.
I end by theorizing that alcoholism may be part of the problem for the stagnation of social, cultural, economic and political progress in Cameroon. I say so because a majority of those when drink engage in social, cultural, economic and political dialogue in liquor houses and as their drinking progresses the quality of the discussion deteriorates. Finally no concrete conclusion is reached. No doubt the brewery industry is the largest industry in the country and the people and the general sentiment is " drink and for get your problems". What a lie. Forgetting your problems does not make them go away. Facing them is the only way to solve them. Therefore we have to start facing the problem of alcoholism.
This can be done through higher taxes on alcoholic beverages, zoning and prohibiting children from drinking. I do not know if we have an age limit on drinking alcohol. If yes we should in force it. Those who give beer to babes should stop it. For this will negatively impact the development of their brains.
Friday, April 3, 2009
Cameroon: Bridegroom Drunk in Church
Cameroon: Bridegroom Drunk in Church
Martin Nkematabong
2 April 2009
Rufus had consumed excess of palm wine and 'kitoko' hours before his church wedding. Last weekend, petals of flowers and balloons of assorted colours glittered and dangled at the courtyard and corridors of one of the municipal councils in Bamenda, announcing the eminence of a great wedding. Thereabout, groups of expert traditional dancers spoiled their faces ululations, charged from angle to angle and split the air with the peaks of their local swords.
The jollity attained its climax when a galaxy of motorcycles alarmed from the left flank of the council hall, ushering in a Toyota Carina carrying Rufus and Rebecca. The wedding car gradually propelled towards the council hall. Rufus, who was clad in a grey 'super 200' and kiwi-dark 'pointininy' majestically stepped out and walked into the main hall. Rebecca, also veiled from head to toe, haughtily followed.
Then, the mayor's adult Land Cruiser appeared, cruising over lumps of brown earth that carpet the narrow path leading to his parking lot. The imperturbable frenzied dancers and wanton riders relaxed, and streamed into the hall. Then, the wedding ceremony began. Rufus and Rebecca heartily repeated the marriage oath after the administrator, exchanged silver rings and boisterously walked into the courtyard for memorial photo shots.
The second phase of the marriage was scheduled, just a few hours after, at a parish chapel located some kilometers away from the council hall. The wedding car wheeled towards the church direction, leaving behind active participants who still scuttled over the homemade drinks. The parish choir had just begun animation. A church warden conducted Rufus and Rebecca to the front seat, while the parish priest and mass servants filed in.
The priest beckoned, then the catechist ushered the couple towards the altar. But Rufus had visibly lost stamina. He sleepily staggered towards the tabernacle, wearing a seismic smile. The catechist strove to guide him away from the most holy arena, but Rufus shunned him.
The bridegroom dropped a lump of hot spittle at the crest of the holy ground, fumbled back to his seat and struggle to make a statement, but words stocked in his throat. He farted, yawned uncontrollably, and then lay on the bench.
The exasperated priest concerted with the catechist and retired with his mass servants. Meanwhile, friends and relatives rescued a frozen Rebecca from the foot of the altar. Rufus had consumed excess of palm wine, 'kitoko', corn beer and 'fichock' at the cultural hall. And at press time, a chunk of tipsy riders heralded Rufus home without Rebecca.
Martin Nkematabong
2 April 2009
Rufus had consumed excess of palm wine and 'kitoko' hours before his church wedding. Last weekend, petals of flowers and balloons of assorted colours glittered and dangled at the courtyard and corridors of one of the municipal councils in Bamenda, announcing the eminence of a great wedding. Thereabout, groups of expert traditional dancers spoiled their faces ululations, charged from angle to angle and split the air with the peaks of their local swords.
The jollity attained its climax when a galaxy of motorcycles alarmed from the left flank of the council hall, ushering in a Toyota Carina carrying Rufus and Rebecca. The wedding car gradually propelled towards the council hall. Rufus, who was clad in a grey 'super 200' and kiwi-dark 'pointininy' majestically stepped out and walked into the main hall. Rebecca, also veiled from head to toe, haughtily followed.
Then, the mayor's adult Land Cruiser appeared, cruising over lumps of brown earth that carpet the narrow path leading to his parking lot. The imperturbable frenzied dancers and wanton riders relaxed, and streamed into the hall. Then, the wedding ceremony began. Rufus and Rebecca heartily repeated the marriage oath after the administrator, exchanged silver rings and boisterously walked into the courtyard for memorial photo shots.
The second phase of the marriage was scheduled, just a few hours after, at a parish chapel located some kilometers away from the council hall. The wedding car wheeled towards the church direction, leaving behind active participants who still scuttled over the homemade drinks. The parish choir had just begun animation. A church warden conducted Rufus and Rebecca to the front seat, while the parish priest and mass servants filed in.
The priest beckoned, then the catechist ushered the couple towards the altar. But Rufus had visibly lost stamina. He sleepily staggered towards the tabernacle, wearing a seismic smile. The catechist strove to guide him away from the most holy arena, but Rufus shunned him.
The bridegroom dropped a lump of hot spittle at the crest of the holy ground, fumbled back to his seat and struggle to make a statement, but words stocked in his throat. He farted, yawned uncontrollably, and then lay on the bench.
The exasperated priest concerted with the catechist and retired with his mass servants. Meanwhile, friends and relatives rescued a frozen Rebecca from the foot of the altar. Rufus had consumed excess of palm wine, 'kitoko', corn beer and 'fichock' at the cultural hall. And at press time, a chunk of tipsy riders heralded Rufus home without Rebecca.
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