Finally I sat there, inside a heavy armored car and held on as best as possible to the rope hanging from the roof. We quickly ran over the bumpy vegans who walked into the Cameroonian jungle. The last few days had been frustrating. “African time” is something the Cameroonian authorities are experts at. “À demain, à demain”, “tomorrow, tomorrow”, they said four days in a row. But every day they didn’t do that, and as nothing happened, my inner, very Norwegian, clock beat harder and harder. But then one morning a pick-up from the military suddenly came and picked me and photographer Luke up. We were transported directly to English-speaking Cameroon. And from then on it went fast. What is the conflict in English-speaking Cameroon about? During the colonial period, Cameroon was first colonized by Germany, and then divided between Great Britain and France. Two systems were developed for education and the judiciary. When Cameroon became independent, the smallest part, the British, had the choice of becoming part of Nigeria or a federation with French Cameroon. They chose the latter. Strong forces wanted a country of their own, but the UN controlled the decolonization process, and did not accept it. Since then, people in the English-speaking part have believed that they are being discriminated against, and Cameroon has been governed by regimes without democracy and freedom of expression. In 2018, large demonstrations started when Cameroon wanted to make French the official language in schools and the judiciary. Demonstrations were severely cracked down on, and armed groups established themselves. In the last six years, the area has been affected by a lot of conflict, and many armed groups are active. But I was a little extra nervous, because the waiting time had led to me traveling in on the day I had been warned about. Namely the infamous Monday. The separatists’ need to show power The thing about Mondays is just one of many remarkable things about this conflict that the world has barely heard about. Separatist groups, often controlled from abroad, have declared Mondays as ghost town days. All trade and daily life must stop, and everyone must stay at home. The separatists want to show that they have power by introducing rules that reflect back on society. An empty classroom is just one of many outcomes of the conflict in English-speaking Cameroon. Photo: Luke Dray / news Introducing taxes is another move they use to show power, and in recent weeks they have even tried to shut down the entire large region for two weeks in a row. But far from everyone supports the separatists, and to get people to follow the rules, fear is used as a tool. Threats of punishment are issued for those who do not follow this and that rule. So therefore many do as they are told, and the streets around us were quite empty as we drove into what the separatists call Ambazonia. Cameroon, with the English-language section highlighted in dark red. Photo: Ole-Morten Ødegaard Unknown crisis with a Norwegian link I have long wanted to get to English-speaking Cameroon, which some people call Ambazonia, because I think it makes sense to bring up crises I hear little about. But also because I know that much of what happens here – such as the curfew on Mondays – is ordered from people abroad. And someone who is suspected of being a central person in this cage in Norway. This Norwegian link was the main story at the time I jumped off guard in the armored car into the jungle. But things have changed a lot since then. On Wednesday this week, in the rush to work on the case from Cameroon, the man in Norway was arrested and charged with inciting the killing of civilians in English-speaking Cameroon. Neither news nor other Norwegian media have so far identified the man. Living between the bark and the wood Me and photographer Luke were driven from school after school which were empty, we were shown burnt out hospitals and neighbourhoods. When I wanted to see even fresher evidence of conflict, it turned out that a helicopter was just a phone call away. So we went further north to several towns hit by attacks. One of many villages marked by the violence that ravages English-speaking Cameroon. Photo: Vegard Tjørhom / news We spoke to civilians, and saw the frustration in their eyes. They live in an area where Cameroon’s army is fighting the separatists. For several years, both parties have communicated that “either you are with us, or you are against us”. Ordinary people are seen in an almost impossible situation. Both parties have shown that they are willing to punish you severely if you do not show loyalty. All news interviewees must remain anonymous out of consideration for their safety. Photo: Luke Dray / news At least that is what a long series of reports tell us, even though both parties usually deny criminal liability, and are better at placing the blame on others than taking responsibility for what they themselves do. Such a situation makes it almost impossible for a journalist, because very few dare to speak publicly, and trying to be neutral can make you suspect by both parties. Thus, one ends up with the two who like to talk to journalists being the parties to the war. And they tell you their versions. But you soon realize that both versions cannot be true. The stories collide with each other, and are at best only partially true. This makes it difficult to know what to believe. There is simply so much snot that you can hardly see the moustache, and separating it from each other is in any case completely hopeless. It didn’t go quite as planned. In a way, we still got our job done there in the conflict zone, pursued by Cameroonian soldiers. We knew very well that we were not on tour with local heroes, because Cameroonian soldiers are to blame for a long series of attacks on civilians by organizations such as Amnesty and Human Rights Watch. One of the soldiers who was on the trip. The man in the picture is a random soldier, and in no way directly linked to the charges of abuse by the Cameroonian army. Photo: Luke Dray / news But traveling around with them was our only way in. In order not to put our interviewees in a difficult situation, we avoided the most sensitive topics and stuck to what we were actually there for. To hear their stories, and what daily life is like. On the block were also several critical questions for Cameroon’s army, but I had already planned to take them after I was back in the capital. And that got me done. The cases did not go as planned because the arrest of the man in Norway meant that the Norwegian link could not tell about it as planned. But also because the arrest led to the cases having to be published quickly, in the middle of a news picture where the world’s eyes were on a rapidly escalating crisis in the Middle East. And it is not at such times that it works best to publish stories about relatively unknown crises. Because the world’s crises actually compete for our attention. And in such competitions the African conflicts rarely win, for many reasons. The dark clouds The journey to English-speaking Cameroon ended with a helicopter ride I will never forget. I looked down on a wooded landscape, with a few villages here and there, and some small clusters of houses in the middle of no man’s land. A waterfall roaring in the evening sun, and some small clouds spreading out among the treetops. But in the sky behind the beautiful landscape lay heavy dark clouds. It is such contrasts that make me think that nature is sending me a message. I hope they have cleared their minds soon, the clouds that hang over the people living in the crisis that I will never forget. Dark clouds at the back of the sky, over beautiful Cameroonian landscape. Photo: Luke Dray / news Published 05.10.2024, at 16.53
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