Hans Ngala
As Cameroonians prepare for presidential elections in October 2025, the political atmosphere is once again dominated by the incumbent leader, President Paul Biya. At 92, Biya has ruled Cameroon for over four decades, making him one of the longest-serving leaders in the world. Despite a track record marred by economic stagnation, widespread unemployment, rampant corruption, and human rights abuses, various sectors of Cameroonian society are already calling for him to seek re-election.
What is even more bewildering is that among those championing another term for Biya are university professors, youth groups in Bamenda, the South West Region, and even in the capital, Yaounde. Whether these calls are genuine or staged is a question that is yet to be answered, but their occurrence points to a troubling reality: many Cameroonians have grown accustomed to mediocrity and have stopped aspiring for better leadership.
It is often said, “If you can’t beat them, join them.” In Cameroonian Pidgin, it is put as: “If man pass you, carry yi bag,” implying it is better to align with those more powerful than you. In a country where the government has consistently failed to deliver basic services and where dissent is systematically crushed, survival often trumps resistance. With Biya having a grip on every aspect of Cameroonian life — from the judiciary to education, the press, and law enforcement — people have learned that conforming is safer than resisting.
The recent condemnation by the European Parliament of Cameroon’s human rights record, particularly concerning the treatment of journalists, underscores the repressive environment in which Cameroonians live. The statement called on the Biya government to “ensure press freedom ahead of the upcoming presidential election”, a right that has been eroded under his regime. Journalists and activists are frequently harassed, detained, and sometimes forced into exile, merely for expressing dissenting views. Writing an op-ed like this, is enough for police or gendarmes to crack down on a journalist. Commenting on Biya’s health is even deemed a “national security” according to Paul Atanga Nji when Biya vanished from the public scene in late 2024, leading Cameroonians to begin speculating on his fitness for the presidency.
President Biya’s enduring rule is sustained by more than just brute force. It is also buoyed by a fractured and visionless opposition. While many Cameroonians agree on the need for change, the inability of opposition parties to unite behind a single candidate continues to dilute their effectiveness. This disunity is exacerbated by deep-seated ideological divisions between Anglophones and the Francophone-majority government.
The Anglophone Crisis, now in its eighth year, is a glaring example of how these divisions have crippled national cohesion. Although Biya attempted to appease the Anglophone population by appointing some Anglophones to high-profile positions, such as the Prime Minister and Minister of Territorial Administration, these gestures have done little to heal the wounds. Paul Atanga Nji, an Anglophone and current Minister of Territorial Administration, famously denied the existence of an “Anglophone problem” on CRTV, alienating many Anglophones, while pleasing the Biya regime.
On the other hand, rather than pushing for structural reform or accountability, many Cameroonians have been pacified with token gestures. A loaf of bread, a tin of sardines, and a bottle of beer are often all it takes to buy loyalty—or at least silence—in a country where poverty and unemployment have reduced citizens to survival mode. This widespread complacency has made it easy for the regime to maintain its grip on power.
There is no better metaphor for the Cameroonian condition than that of a starving dog eagerly wagging its tail at the sight of its master. The people have been reduced to beggars, willing to accept crumbs while ignoring the structural decay around them. From the dirty streets of Yaounde to the crumbling health and education systems, the signs of failure are everywhere. Yet, the population remains largely silent.
Why?
Because protest is dangerous. Public demonstrations are often met with violent crackdowns. Security forces — under orders from SDOs, Dos and governors — are known to disperse crowds using tear gas, batons, and even live rounds. The psychological toll of living under such a repressive state has bred a culture of fear and fatalism. People whisper their frustrations in private but sing praises to Biya in public.
This double life — criticizing in secret while pretending to support the regime in public — is not patriotism. It is hypocrisy. True patriotism requires courage. It means calling out injustice and demanding better. It means telling President Biya, respectfully but firmly, that after over 40 years at the helm, it is time for him to retire. During French President Emmanuel Macron’s 2022 visit to Cameroon, Biya himself hinted that he wished to spend his remaining years in his village with his grandchildren. Cameroonians should hold him to that and thank him for his years of service to the nation but call for him to take his much-needed and much-deserved rest.
The responsibility for change lies with the people. No foreign power or miracle will rescue Cameroon. If citizens continue to trade their votes for bread, sardine and beer, if they allow themselves to be manipulated by fear, tribalism, or token gestures, they will remain trapped in a cycle of poor leadership. The opposition must also rise to the occasion by forming coalitions and presenting a united front.
A new Cameroon is possible — one with visionary leadership, inclusive governance, and a strong civil society. But that future will never come if Cameroonians do not demand it. If they fail to speak with one voice, if they fail to hold their leaders accountable, then they must accept the consequences: an economy in decline, a generation without jobs, and a country whose potential remains perpetually unrealized.
Cameroonians have helped perpetuate the current state of affairs by enabling it through silence, division, and fear. As the saying goes, “People get the government they deserve.” If we want better, we must be better. The time to act is now. No one is coming to save us. We — the citizens — are the change we have been waiting for. If we don’t stand up now, we should stop complaining. We should accept whatever mediocre leadership we get — because we deserve it.
