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 … - Ferdinand Oyono

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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.

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About Ferdinand Oyono

Ferdinand Oyono (14 September 1929 – 10 June 2010) was a diplomat, politician and author from Cameroon. His literary work is recognised for a sense of irony that reveals how easily people can be fooled.

Also Known As

Alternative Names: Ferdinand Léopold Oyono
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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.

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Before them, the statue of Holy person Subside, who had been so darkened by the climate that he could have gone for an African, was roosted dubiously on a sort of steeple at such an edge, that it looked as though in a little while he would come toppling down.

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