The Challenge I

By Thomas E. Mveng

The advent of modernity, the requirements of development and the high level of poverty, make the struggle for life even more difficult under the tropics. It is a daily strife that goes on in a lifetime, and it is permanent. The situation is even so bad that the black continent is plying under the weight of numerous ailments made up of corruption and embezzlement of public funds; and if we had to add the systematic looting of the continents assets by the western powers, the bowl is full.
We now experience a reversal of values, an abandonment of ethical and moral precepts. The degradation thus announced, sinks Africa into an endless hole and compromises its future in the long run.
The race to money, material things, becomes the existing requirement. It is the survival of the fittest for poor Africa, throwing its sons in the streets, sacrificing its youth at the altar of promiscuity and vice.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Feb 11, 2009
• ISBN: 9781462835942

Thomas E. Mveng

Thomas Essama Mveng est né à Yaoundé, au Cameroun. Titulaire du Doctorat 3e cycle de Finances de l’Institut Supérieur de Gestion de Paris (ISG Paris), il a servi tour à tour dans diverses sociétés: Rhône-Poulenc SA et Société de Banque Thomson (France), Aéroport du Cameroun SA (ADC SA-Cameroun) et Fonds Monétaire International (IMF-USA), et a été enseignant de Contrôle de Gestion à l’Université Catholique d’Afrique Centrale à Yaoundé (Cameroun). Il est membre de l’Institut des Auditeurs Internes (IIA-USA).

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Contents

Acknowledgment

Preface

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

To my mother,

Thomas Mveng

Acknowledgment

To all those whom one way or the other, have contributed to this episode which is the beginning of a series, thanks from the bottom of my heart.

Special thanks to my editor XLibris

Thomas Mveng

Preface

The advent of modernity, the requirements of development and the high level of poverty, make the struggle for life even more difficult under the tropics. It is a daily strife that goes on in a lifetime, and it is permanent. The situation is even so bad that the black continent is plying under the weight of numerous ailments made up of corruption and embezzlement of public funds; and if we had to add the systematic looting of the continent’s assets by the western powers, the bowl is full.

We now experience a reversal of values, an abandonment of ethical and moral precepts. The degradation thus announced, sinks Africa into an endless hole and compromises its future in the long run.

The race to money, material things, becomes the existing requirement. It is the survival of the fittest for poor Africa, throwing its sons in the streets, sacrificing its youth at the altar of promiscuity and vice.

The youth in general and young girls in particular, seem to have given their soul to the devil, cheerfully transcending the values of a noble life for the love of money, for the love of well-being, for the love of life. Their success, their survival, is at that price and nothing is likely to stop them.

Feeling yet legitimate of a youth in distress, success appears to be pejorative. And if we had to quote François Fanon, we will acknowledge the fact that Black Africa has started on the wrong foot; but who will be smart enough to say what the future of that Africa holds? What’s in store for our children and our grandchildren? Difficult to predict, hard to foresee. The best we can do is to ring the distress bell, launch a vibrant call to the awakening of consciousness, and to the reshaping of mentalities.

The world’s oldest trade is indeed found everywhere, moral depravation exists in every country in the world, in every continent; corruption and embezzlement of public funds are imported from the western society as well; but it is up to the African people to stay focused and protect their essence at all cost and adopt a mode of development of their own that will not make them lose their soul.

Poverty and the hardships of life following the death of her father, lead Sissi to slowly lose the sense of honor and dignity. She is ready to try anything to succeed in life. It is the story of the youth Si-Bot which is today, going through a serious drama; it is about time she understands that the success of a life is not necessarily materialistic.

It is our duty to activate the fight for the restoration of the continent’s noble values, to magnify our cultural values for a dignified and proud Africa.

That will be the precious inheritance to pass on to our children.

Thomas Mveng

Silver Spring

September 2008

Chapter 1

At the Bus Station

Miracle. Oh Lord what a miracle!

Miracle! Oh Lord what a miracle!

Sissi’s rhythmic song added to the effervescence of the small bus station of Messimba, where a few individuals going to or coming from Oding-Otoa were pushing and shoving. The bus station also served as marketplace. There could be found some wild game meat, fish and a variety of goods spread on the floor. The doughnuts and fried beans’ vendors had their corner by the dung and were competing for the spotlight with flies which, in growing numbers swarmed on their display.

For a decade, due to an incredible demographic explosion and the efforts of development of the city of Oding-Otoa, the urban perimeter had outrageously expanded, making of Messimba a suburb very close to the capital of Si-Bot. More and more, people could come and go every day, thanks to clandestine vehicles called opep and even city cabs which ensured the transportation of men and goods.

Some inhabitants of Messimba had found a job in the city, but still lived in their village, getting up early in the morning for the first pick ups and returning home at nightfall after a rough day of work.

With the back of her hand, Sissi dismissed the swarm of flies that had just assailed her tray of doughnuts.

"Oust, oust! Go away; dirty flies," she said

"Really! At this rate, it’ll be impossible not to be sick. It’s even God who looks after us." Said her gossip buddy, who had the beans stand next to hers.

"It seems germs don’t kill Blacks. We are immune, ha, ha, ha," said Sissi giggling.

She pinched her cheek and was soon lost in her thoughts. The sudden death of her father, Essindi, had plunged the whole family in a distress without a name, compromising the future of the bunch of children he had left behind. Five kids. That was an acceptable number in the traditional community, but with the exposure to the modern world, things were getting tougher. One could no longer live essentially off of harvesting, let alone hunting, especially nearby the cities. Everything had to be purchased and one had to work to earn some money and