The Commandant trod on my fingers as he went out. I did not cry out. He did not turn round. - Ferdinand Oyono

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.

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

I thought I had married a man, a real man… instead I married an arse-full of shit. My Children, my poor children – sold like the Lord who was sold by Judas…