Ferdinand Oyono Quotes

There are things one prefers not to think about but that doesn't mean one forgets about them.

Get up, you pig! Where are your papers? Where have you come from? What are you doing fucking around here?

But for me, it is more than mourning. I have died my first death….

My future parents-in-law had asked me for a bundle of stock-fish so that I could marry their daughter according to civil rites. I have already given them thirty thousand francs, a case of beer, a pith-helmet, a sack of salt, three matchets, three sheep, a water-bucket, a cast-iron cooking pot, and a sack of rice. All that was left was the stock fish.

If you heart begins to beat when you get to the end of your journey, retrace your steps.

They lamented 'the Martyr' as they called Father Gilbert because he died on African soil.

M. Moreau is right, we must have hard head. Ndjangoula brought down his rifle butt the first time, I thought their skulls would shatter. I could not hold myself from shaking as I watched. It was terrible. I thought of all the priests, all the pastors, all the white men, who came to save our souls and preach love of our neighbours. Is the white man's neighbour only other white men? Who can go on believing the stuff we are served up in the churches when things like I saw today. It will be the usual thing. M. Moreau's suspects will be sent to the 'Blackman's Grave' where they will spend a few days painfully dying. Then they will be buried naked in the prisoners' cemetery. On Sunday, the priest will say, 'Dearly beloved brethren, pray for all those prisoners who die without making their peace with God. M. Moreau will present his up-turned topee to the faithful. Everyone will put in a little more than he had intended. All the money goes to the whites. They are always thinking up new ways to get back what little money they pay us. How wretched we are.

Truth lies beyond the mountains. You must travel to find it.

Life, he says, is like the chameleon, changing colour all the time.

Fuck off out of here! Go on get out of my hut!

With that he shot out a kick to my shins that sent me sprawling under the table. The Commandant's kick was even more painful than the kick of the late father Gilbert. He seemed pleased with his effort.

At the first alarm I was jostled, then knocked down and trampled on. I could feel the Greek's dog at my heel. I shall never know how I managed to get to my feet and to climb up to the top of the huge mango tree. There I took refuge. The Europeans were laughing and pointing up to the top of the tree where I was hiding. The Commandant was laughing as well. He had not recognized me. How could he recognize me? All Africans look the same to them.

He had not remembered me. How might he remember me? All Africans appear to be identical to them. ”

My son, you are young enough to be my son, why do you want to shed blood as old as your own father’s? Why do you want to bring a curse on you and your…

Is the white man's neighbour only other white men? Who can go on believing the stuff we are served up in the churches when things happen like I saw today...