The Fall of a Nso’ Tycoon in the Grassfields, West Africa

Isaac Lukong (Shusheey) ca1930-2009




Isaac Lukong of Kumbo, Bui in the Cameroon died early this month and his burial will take place, May 30, 2009. I remember him as an exemplary man of straw who rose to a rank of a respectable tycoon, impressive dimensions. His extraordinary entrepreneurship in his home town, Kumbo disproved the myth that business persons only come from Bamileke, Greek and Igbo countries. It is sad that we have to say adieu that dreaded French word with no translation in English or Lamnso’ to this man.

I will narrate to you a modicum of this gentleman’s chronicle that is woven to mine. One thing I am dying to tell you all later is how he achieved his education, disproving another myth that there was no gallery of human economic activity a determined man cannot enter. With Isaac Docta Lukong as he was called by his compeers everything was possible. He could even achieve that sobriquet Docta which I presume was given by his friends because of his assiduity, love for westernization and cleanliness. In the Western context, his ‘docta’ (nsonized doctor) would have been an honorary doctorate degree in business administration. He achieved a lot for the period God gave him on earth. He was the proprietor of CKC Nso, ran the Central Inn Kumbo, the Berlen Cattle Ranch, and was the General Contractor and a transport magnet in the NW Region. Besides, he was the principal representative of AMACAN at Kumbo in Nso, and supplied poles for high tension electricity grids to Sonel, Bafoussam besides running efficiently his extended family. No route was difficult for him to ply and no tree was difficult for him to single-handedly climb, although with the assistance of his sons later on in life. He was unique and we may never have anyone of this irreplaceable genre. In spite of this sad ending, his style of business acumen showed a hidden genius worthy of being emulated.

I first saw this man when I was still at the nursery school of St. Theresia’s School, Bongeway Ward of Kumbo Town. School had closed and one of the students told us that there was a bar belonging to Mr. Wongebe, the proprietor of Hope Rising Fancy Store from Tymenkan, just inaugurated in the heart of the Squares called the Red Cap Bar. We went and stood at its façade and music was oozing from the door of an august building where everything was painted red. There were stewards dancing and patrons seated and imbibing European beer. Among the dancers clad in a heavily starched white shirts and red trousers was Mr. Isaac Lukong who with other go-go dancers also wore red berets. It was my first occasion to see adults dancing the European style to the Congolese or Rhomba music played by a gramophone. We were all excited at that new trend invading our town. One of the students told me that the well-built swarthy-complexioned man was Isaac. Looking at the adult dancing was strictly prohibited for children for it was called High Life whose definition we never got to know. It will be recalled that Kumbo denizens (Vimboan) were strictly Victorians and conservative and such dances where men and women held hands were frowned at. We got our lesson and never passed by. Then occasionally I would see Isaac dressed to kill in Tergal Trousers that were imported from France. Tergal material was like expensive bveri in Nso’ or vikumvekom , dukes, duchesses and other officials wore in the Grassfield and if one was not known, as the saying goes in Lamnso’, my traductum , one did not wear it.

If not of seeing him previously dancing, I would have associated him with one of the primary school demagogues for he had very polished mannerism and would chuckle instead of laughing as was the usual practice with a gaggle of Nsonites (Wira Nso’) who would stand at the Squares as from 2: 00 p.m. to exchange information and other gossips. His shoes were well polished and even Mr.Kome, a physically impaired shoemaker who had his workshop at the Squares could have admitted. On further investigation, I was told that he never went to school and it puzzled me how a man who could not read and write could be all that resplendent. Then after some years, I cannot just recall, I was told that Isaac was actually a dedicated coffee farmer and had enrolled to studying for his First School Leaving Certificate examination at home. We were taken by surprise for the assumption was that if someone was an adult he or she had problem studying the conventional way and that it was a taboo to study at an advanced age. Then, I dismissed the fact that there were adults enrolled with the Adult Literary Campaign Schools that were promoted by Miss Elizabeth O’Kelly, the British Education Officer for the British Southern Cameroons who was stationed at Bambui, SE ward of Kumbo. Some women had followed courses that were designed for adults in Ghana and were able to read and write at Kimar Village. My mother pursued similar courses at Tooy and was able to read and write her name. I was so impressed and owing to the fact that she did these courses, she was in a better position to advise me on good calligraphy.

The Squares was where everything happened as the business district center of the city of Kumbo. It was the center of dissemination of information and everyone who was somebody had to show up there as if to answer the roll call in some special club. Besides merchandize being sold by Igbos, there were pattern medicine dealers some of whom came all the way from Ghana to trade. The then Southern Cameroons of 1960s had links with English speaking countries of West Africa and even East and Southern Africa.

Then one day I was told that Isaac was able to solve complex arithmetic including compound proportion and that he was able to read The Cameroons Times. This was a daily that was fashioned like the London Times o f England. Most educated men read this daily and discussed burning issues they read above all the readers’ column that occasionally had a paragraph on Nso peoples and their drinking habits. I had an uncle called John Ngo, a self-taught man who could write cursive, read and discussed politics written in the Cameroons Times and another dailies. The barber’s shop was another center of gossip and Isaac who valued his cleanliness visited my uncle to have his hair shaven as dictated by the trend of the time. Then one day someone told me that Isaac had passed his First School Leaving Certificate (FSLC) with flying colors. It was then that I believed that one could do anything so long as one was determined. Passing that examination and carrying out his business transactions was like a boast of his prestige and image. His tidiness was commensurate with his new qualifications and he had that audacity then to do things for himself that he needed a helping hand to do in the past. In brief that was his new-found-independence. I wished that if others could have copied him all of Nso would have been educated and their standard of living could have been improved by virtue of that. I had seen that those who yearned to improve their standard of living were those who had attended and finished their elementary school. Their homes were cleaner and a good number of them ensured that their children reached secondary schools. The multiplier effect had since been phenomenal in Nso.

I was tempted to compare the hardworking Isaac with my paternal aunt Mrs. Theresia Wiirsiy Taylor who was a born lawyer but could not read and write. She relied upon me for her letter writing. She would literally push me to write and ensured that I spelt properly. How? She would first dictate her letter to me in Lamnso’, then I would translate it into English and write it out. After that she would ask me to read it back to her in English and not Pidgin English she had mastered so well. I would see her bemused and nodding her head. That gave me satisfaction and emboldened me to determine to write better next time. Then she would ask me once more to read it back to her in Lamnso’. When she was satisfied, she would disappear in her bedroom and bring out an envelope and I would fold the letter carefully and put into it for a postage stamp to be affixed and posted.

One day some worker called Mr. Thaddeus Tanjo came and saw the avalanche of letters I had written. My aunt was proud of me and handed to him one of the letters to read. Thaddeus, a stout articulate man whose brother was to be one of my Secondary School teachers, Mr. Francis Sitar was so impressed and looked at me in admiration. He could not believe that in class seven I was able to write such letters in pure English with no grammatical or spelling errors. My aunt did not end in that, she would ask me to teach her English songs by the Everly Brothers from the USA. If the songs were being sung over radio Buea, the capital of our Country then, we all were glued to the radio to hear all syllabuses being articulated. Well, it was not long before such vanished in the sea of our Guallish neighbors who only spoke to us in Pidgin English. My thinking was if Isaac understood that sort of Buea English radio broadcast by an anglophile and competent journalist Mrs. Olive Shang?

Let me not deviate from Mr. Isaac Lukong’s chronicle. Then I went to College, universities and took up jobs in Southern Africa, Europe and then North America. I lost contact with Isaac apart from reading clippings about him and what was happening back home. More snatches about him and his achievements came to me when he was involved as the CEO of the Kumbo Strikers, football club that out of nowhere had grown so big and was the talk of the day. It was from the fact that he wanted to purchase the club that I heard that he was a sort of tycoon in the county. He was into transport besides being a farmer. He would buy and ship timber that was used for the distribution of hydroelectricity in the Grassfields of the Cameroon.

One day I was in a lorry park at Duala [Eng], (Douala [Fr.]) to book a bush mammy wagon to ferry me to Bamenda. I was with a man who knew this tycoon who was standing by. He brought me to Isaac’s acquaintance and there was a chemical bond that brought the two of us together. He immediately bought barbecued goat meat for us to munch. He immediately invited me to visit him at his office immediately I would return to Kumbo. As rendezvoused I visited him. When I arrived he opened for me and his cohorts a bottle of wine he had pulled from a carton. From that excellent vintage wine, he started telling me a fascinating story as we stood on the balcony of his storey building which was the head office of his business empire at Mbve emporium. He told me that the carton of wine was given to him by a German Mercedes Benz dealer who had supplied him with six articulated trailers. That was not the end of the story; he went on that he was able to pay this man cash on the spot. He said, “The Teutonic Caucasian looked at me in disbelief and immediately pulled a case of wine and gave to me.” I thought that it was such a small present but a token of appreciation. The man was to follow him all the way to Kumbo and he took him to his ranch at Berlen on the way to Mbiame to the north east of Kumbo. When Isaac pronounced Berlen, I almost jumped that it was Berlin. Then I recalled that it was on the plateau where some elements from Kitiwum at the Kumbo water catchments translated themselves when they were requested by King Mbinglo Seem III to leave for fear of contaminating drinking water but they would not budge. Many preferred to settle at Berlen area and eventually moved en mass to Gembu in Nigeria rather than to leave voluntarily their ancestral homestead where there were their ancestral grave yards.

Sitting in his august office at Mbve with special décor, leather frame doors, I was impressed and told myself that he had come a long way to have reached that meteoric status. Coincidentally, his personal driver/man servant who was ever well dressed was a relative of mine from Tshenkar. He had really taught this man, George to be well dressed like a chauffeur in some Western big city. He was ever in three piece suit and that was impressive. Mr. Lukong became attached to me and our chemistry met to the extent that he invited me to come from Dzekwa for a sleep over. I could not but George his son sent someone to see me on his way to Duala. It was not long before he started addressing me the ‘big man of Dzekwa.’ It was a phrase that had its origin in the days of the Germans in the Kamerun and could have meant overseer. I giggled for I was to work on real The Big Man of Bamenda, Peter Wame in Fr. John Emonts’ SCJ’s travelogue. Emonts was one of the pioneers Priests who founded the Sacred Heart Church at Kumbo. I was flattered for there was no big man that was of his rank apart from another tycoon who hailed from Sob Village called Mr. Sylvester Kilo, proprietor and CEO of Kilo’s Bros Limited noted for contractions, animal husbandry, transport, and mail distribution for the West Cameroon Government. The next person I could recall was Mr. Nangang the proprietor of Skyline Hotel at Bamenda and Mr. Che.

Before I left him and that was to be our last meeting he asked me one favor, to facilitate his son George Lukong who was then a graduate from Amadu Bello University (ABU), Zaria, Nigeria to study abroad. I did all I could to make this possible but the tuition and boarding fees were prohibitive. I proposed to him to set up an executive jet Air Line. He was interested but was frank to me and told me that the Minister of trade whom he knew personally would not give him the green light. I was ready to get him a plane and a pilot. The pilot of a bush fixed-wing plane I had contacted was so excited. He was disappointed when I returned to him with bad news that bureaucracy had killed such a venture at its conception stage. I was looking at the plethora of airline companies that had mushroomed in Nigeria and the bad roads that could be by passed through flying using the Takija’ Air Port, the one at We’ and Bamenda and others.

If Isaac, who became as traditional Nso senator, called Shu-Sheey did one thing, it was the creation of jobs in which he employed not only Nso folks but many from the whole of Cameroon. Many sang his praises. With time I heard that he had had a mild stroke. Then I wish he was to have a bypass surgery. Then I over heard that he had improved and beamed with a smile. It was on May 2, 2009 that I got the shocking news of his death after having been ill at the Bui Baptist Hospital (BBH).

If there is one thing we have learned from this indefatigable man, it was that if one had a dream one should follow it up relentlessly and one day one was to have that dream fulfilled. It was not long before I heard that he had bought Mr. Lawan’s [an ex-minister with the West Cameroon State Government] building at Mbve used as his head office. I cannot help admiring him as men like him are rare and hard to come by. My wish is that all of us should imitate his exemplary life. He will not be missed only by his extended family in which I am a member but by mine too. Adieu Isaac.

Dr. Viban Viban NGO, Shey, FRGS.