My family village is in Dibombari, an administrative region for around 50,000 people around 30k to the north of Douala and 7k along an un-tarred road with incredible ruts and potholes that is impassable at times in the wet season. The area contains a number of small rural villages of which ours, Bwataka, is one. Dad is the chief of Bwataka, as the nominated person from the “ruling” clan, which is known as Bona Lobe (sons of Lobe, the founder of the clan). This is a kind of sub-chieftancy to the main chief of the area, which in turn is part of a larger grouping of Douala speaking peoples known as Pongo. The various chiefs meet regularly to discuss matters of importance to the villages (one current topic being the recent discovery of oil!).
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Dad - the Chief of Bwataka |
The clan is believed to have originated from the Congo area but migrated here by sea a couple of centuries ago in search of new land and possibly to escape disease. They settled as part of the wave of people that now form the Douala tribal group here and my forefathers have been here ever since. The original Lobe (which is also my Dad’s name) was my great-great-great-grandfather. Surnames do not exist traditionally and identity is passed on orally, such that I was taught at a young age that I am Mukala, son of Lobe, son of Money, son of Ekosso, son of Ngube, son of Lobe. My Dad created the family surname, Monekosso, by combining the names of his father and grandfather and now most of the family uses it. On this trip while researching the family tree I now know three more generations of ancestors going back to a man called Pongo, for whom the local area was named.
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Typical village view: across the street from our house |
Bwataka remains the spiritual home of the family, despite the death of my Grandma four years ago at the age of 99. Like many African villages there is a Christian church but traditional healing and witchcraft are taken very seriously. Today we visited for a funeral - a very important cultural event for which people save for years. They are occasions when huge extended families come together and I sat under a tree with my older sisters Bisi and Tiki, watching the service and meeting large numbers of relatives, all of whom are incredibly welcoming to me.
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Bwataka village cloth from which traditional clothing is made |
The village has been a very special to me since Suzanne and I first came here just after my Mum died 22 years ago - half a lifetime ago now. There is sadness too because over the years many of the family have died including my brother Ngube, Grandma (also called Suzanne) and uncles George and Adolphus (the latter born in 1939 and named after Hitler, as my Grandfather was a big fan of the Germans who ran Cameroon before World War I!). But their memories live on in the pictures in the house and the graves that sit outside. Of my immediate relatives only my uncle Emmanuel remains at the age of nearly 70 and, as is customary, I presented him with a bottle of whisky.
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Uncle Emmanuel and me |
Many of the younger generations have drifted away to the cities - hence the family tree project - but it was good to see so many out in force today.