There are roles you don’t assign to yourself. Functions you don’t stumble into by chance, by clamor, or by whim. Being President of the Republic is not just about occupying a seat. It’s about carrying an entire Nation on your shoulders — in the silence of hard decisions and the noise of popular expectations. In Cameroon, as elsewhere, this kind of responsibility is never improvised.
And yet, some — intoxicated by the cheers of the crowd, by the echo of their own voice — dare to dream out loud. They crown themselves, convinced that power is nothing more than a political trophy. They are wrong. Deeply wrong. The presidency is far more than fiery speeches, slick videos, and Facebook likes. It is a relentless battle — against the wear of time, the traps laid by your inner circle, and the whims of history.
Cameroon is not a testing ground. This country, with its old scars, delicate balances, and ever-renewed hopes, demands from its leader — or from anyone who dares aspire to lead — a rare kind of depth. A steadiness of vision, a sense of memory in action, and humility in posture. Because here, to govern is not to seduce. To govern is to hold firm. To endure. To listen without yielding. To decide without destroying.
You must have walked through the shadowy corridors of doubt, endured unfair criticism, and known the solitude of command. You must have proven — in the crucible of reality — that you can think far ahead and act with precision. Because Cameroonians, beneath their anger or their silence, know how to recognize those who stand firm. Those who, without fanfare, carry the country beyond mere partisan or tribal logic.
One does not become President of Cameroon simply by speaking well. You become President because you understand. You understand that this country walks a tightrope between peace and fracture. You understand that the role of the leader, here, is to embody balance. To stay the course when the winds shift. To offer calm when the seas rise.
You don’t become President because you think you’re smarter than everyone else. You become President when the country places its trust in you — beyond calculations, beyond circles of influence, beyond personal certainties. And that kind of trust cannot be improvised. Not here. Not anywhere.
On the banks of the Blue Nile, July 27, 2025
M.O.I
