Tag Archives: Cameroon Fiction

‘When Love Blossom’

“After the tattoo, they had shared their first kiss by the mall entrance,  she could never shake off how shy she’d been after that”

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Students gambolled about the schoolyard like bees chasing and spreading pollen in the heart of the dry season, a season hotter and dustier up north than most parts of Cameroon. The earth parched and cracked like it hadn’t seen water for decades. The plants were almost non-existent and water from open taps ran so hot they needed to be collected and cooled under shades or Calabashes. A cool day seemed like a shockwave had hit the ripple of the sun’s continuum throwing the heat delicately out of pattern and in that slight space in the sun’s continuum, cold air brushed over the town like a kiss from the wind, which only happened once in a month throughout the dry season.

Maimuna knew better not to dirty her uniforms or become too sweaty, from a tender age, looking a hot dusty mess had always been a rebuffing trigger from her mum who did the laundry, as Maimuna grew older she became conscious of what the hot weather meant for her teenage looks. She sometimes remembered her mum’s voice echoing her disapproval of her dirty dusty feet and sweaty gown armpits referring to her as ‘Mrs ganakoh’ a title for the wives of cattle nomads. These days the most her mum did was look at her, sigh with disapproval on anything remotely close to dusty shoes and sweaty armpits. Her mum still managed to behave like she did the laundry when at the age of fifteen the maids did most of her washing except for her undergarments.

May’s dad was a top ranking military general who had worked in many parts of the country, but loved the North the most, he never took up the Muslim religion but enjoyed the organised ways in which the men, women and children religiously prayed, he always remarked that crimes were a lot less in this part of the country than anywhere else because the repercussions were religiously linked and dire. Being the only English general in town he could speak some of the Fulani tongues plus French, this was a respectful added bonus which worked in his favour politically and social stature wise, the lifestyle and culture up north had a complimenting ego massaging effect on him you could tell from the almost always satisfactory grin he wore with a tinge of arrogance.

 

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Lightning Strikes Twice

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DEAR DIARY 1  HERE

DEAR DIARY 2 HERE 

DEAR DIARY 3 HERE 

DEAR DIARY 4  HERE

The wedding and all ensuing rights and festivities passed so quickly. Dina and Tate honeymooned in the coast of Kribi in Cameroons most buoyant and flourishing tourist beach city with its exceedingly elaborate beautiful sea view resorts… It was nice to just be able to live in the moment. A time and place, that encapsulated the purest and best of all their first spousal memories, the beginning of their lives together as a couple, she bearing his name and he wearing a contented smirk on his face from dusk till dawn.

Dinah found herself constantly humming to “This is why I love you”, she felt like for the first time in a long while she’d found love again. Her dad was her first love, the most loving man she had known her entire life, so much so that leaving home as a teenager left a debilitating dent in her emotions, she felt like not seeing her dad each day would kill her… So she was grateful for all the times he’d visited, even when her memory mélange with thoughts of him and her best friend tumbling in her sheets or elsewhere resurfaced, she quickly shook it off saying to her brain “not that, not now – never”…. that spec of flaw was not enough to taint her dad’s memory.

He was a good man and a great father.

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Honeymoon time together was a culmination of love, lust, fear and apprehension for what the future held. Bless! Tate was an expert emotional harness, he made sure that the days were filled with just about the right balance of futuristic plans and living in the moment he was a spontaneous lover and that attracted Dinah to him from the moment they had shared their first kiss. When it came to his feelings for Dinah he could forgo all else and just do what it took to be with her or make her happy.

Their days were filled with seaside disposition, impulsive shenanigans coupled with loads of restful relaxing sun soaking layabouts. 

Tate studied her silhouette as she lay on the beach mat, loving every streak of sweat shimmering on her bare body and the sun kissing her skin, he was a little jealous of anything that made such all-encompassing contact with Dinah, he wanted to be that sun that’s engulfed every part of her bare body in the open with no limitations, the competition between him and the sun was rife, it was a lost battle as he had restrictions while in public, but in the confines of their solstice, that body was he’s too tender and knead to his heart’s desire, he reminded her how blessed he was to have her and so too did she in words spoken and unspoken… A conversation wrought of love… Pure true and new…in just an eye contact they comfortably spoke to each other and loved each other harder.

The days went by so quick they winded down their stay making actionable immediate plans to be together soonest in one place and they’d agreed that will be Paris. There was no denying that Tate’s career was a lot stable while Dinah was vertically stretching into her role as a wife.

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