A sobering, humbling experience in coastal Limbe

Road from Buea to Limbe through Oil Palm plantations

Wild plum at Limbe market

After the scramble up Mt. Cameroon what better way to recharge than by heading to the beach, putting my feet up and relaxing. Unfortunately for me though, sitting and doing nothing at the beach (ok, reading books doesn't cut it) drives me crazy after about 30 minutes. Well…I figured at least the serene waves, gentle breeze from the Atlantic Ocean and the salt water would have a therapeutic effect on the body.

Rubber strip being sold in the market as fire starters

Limbe market

A short drive of an hour and half from Buea through oil palm plantations and I was dropped by the bush taxi at Mile 4. From there I had to get another shared taxi to Limbe. I know that having places called by their mile number probably makes sense but it was odd to see the stops all called out by their Mile number. Imagine me sitting in a taxi and asking the chauffer to go to Mile 6…and then oh no…maybe it is Mile 8 I think :).

The poor lady who tried in vain to
get me a place in Heaven

Fried Grasshopper...a favorite Cameroonian snack

At Limbe I got myself a place to pitch my tent very close to the ocean. After setting up the tent the next stop was back to the town center to explore the local market. I hadn’t had any fruits for close to three days and the daily meals of sardines, spaghetti and rice although tasty had become repetitive and mundane. The Limbe market was awash with fruits like watermelons, oranges, pineapples, bananas, and some exotic fruits like the wild plum; which was very similar to a fruit native to India called as Jambul. After gorging on them I felt like my taste buds had awoken.

Also on sale was a local Cameroonian delicacy…fried grasshopper. If one can look past the dark eyes staring back while you are about to bite into one then they are surprisingly good. I tried a few and am happy to report that they tasted very similar to any other snack.

Hmm...biting into one

Bootleg gas station

Deeper into the market, I was grilled by a lady selling yams on what religion I followed and when she got to know my lack of affinity for any religion in its current form she went to great lengths to tell me that to get a place in heaven I have to believe in God and Jesus. Poor lady did not have a good answer when I asked if she had heard of anyone who has reported those facts from Heaven or for that matter Hell :)

These situations can be awkward but having been through similar experiences in my travels I knew the best way to side step the discussion was to thank her for her concern. I still think that she really liked me as a person and genuinely cared. May her God bless her but I will take my chances with my beliefs :)!

The taxi driver stopped by
to top up

Mt. Etinde

Next stop was the office of the domestic airline, CamAir Co., to book a flight from Douala to a city called Maroua in the Extreme North region of Cameroon. My guidebook had warned me that the domestic airline service was poor with sudden cancellations and long delays but I though otherwise. Turned out the guidebook was right because the flight to the city of Maroua was cancelled at the last minute. It was a wrench in my plans but at least I had not paid for the ticket.

I decided to head to the beach to think over how to revise my itinerary. Limbe has just a few sandy beaches and one of then was at Mile 6. The beach not surprisingly had black sand owning to the ancient volcanic flows from the mountains.

Sunset at Limbe's Mile 6 beach

As I passed through the coastal road to Mile 6 I noted several oil rigs and Cameroon’s state owned oil company’s (SONARA) refining facility. The whole Gulf of Guinea region extending from Liberia to Gabon seems to be a gold mine for oil companies with it being one of the hottest exploration sites in the world right now. Unfortunately though, the common man in Cameroon pays a fairly high price at the gas station. He cannot understand (and so do I) that the fuel is right there about a mile away from the shore but they pay the same price as a nation having to import all its fuel. No wonder that there are several bootleg gas stations with big growlers operating from their homes. My taxi driver swore that the quality is the same as a Total gas station but costs significantly cheaper. I wonder where that fuel comes from…smuggled from Nigeria or from the refinery?

Getting my fresh fish grilled at Down Beach

The beach at Mile 6 was striking with the sun setting across the horizon of the Atlantic Ocean and the towering Mt. Etinde, also called Small Mt. Cameroon, on the other side making for a very picturesque sunset.

As per the locals, the best place in Limbe to hangout in the evening was “Down Beach”. It was THE place to have a freshly caught grilled fish and enjoy it by the beach. Directions to get there were simple…flag a moto-taxi, say “Down Beach” and arrive at a place where I see several stalls with smoke emanating to know I was there. The ordering process was simple enough; choose a freshly caught fish, bargain the price and the delicious meal is served in 30 min tops.

Before digging in...

...and after; yes, i was hungry

The next morning I tried to exchange some of my US dollars to FCFA but none of the official exchange centers wanted my US dollars. A friendly guy at on of these centers dropped me off at a small general store that offered to change the money. I had passed that store a few times so when I asked him why he didn't put a board outside he said he would have to pay taxes.

View from the place i camped

The patron did not have enough money with him so he asked me to relax for a bit while he made a quick run to the bank and asked his aide to man the store in his absence. The aide was a kid called Solomon roughly between 14 & 15 years old. I had to wait for the patron to return for over 30 minutes but little did I know that those 30 minutes would make such a lasting impression on me.

Limbe coast with an oil rig

Probably as a greeting Solomon asked me how I was…then he asked me how my mother was…and then how my father was. I said they all were fine and naturally I proceeded to ask him how his mother was and he said fine. I then asked him how his father was but no sooner did I ask him that question he started weeping uncontrollably. Through his tears he feebly answered that his father passed away when he was still a child. It was heartbreaking seeing him cry in front of me and I felt like hugging him but all I did was walk up to him and pat his shoulder as he continued weeping.

His tragic story did not end there. He stopped school as soon as his father passed away and out of a family of 9 siblings he is the eldest male. He works at the store about 10-11 hours a day and walks from his village to Limbe because he can’t afford to pay for the ride which is reasonably affordable for a normal Cameroonian. He probably does not earn a lot of money but is a breadwinner for the family. One of his elder sisters died after being used by her husband to earn money…I think he meant that her husband forced her into prostitution.

I know this was not a made up story…I could feel the sadness in his eyes. Eventually he picked himself up and ceased to weep but by this time I was struggling. As I was fighting to control my tears, Solomon picked up a small chocolate bar, dipped into his pocket for some change and put it into the cash box and offered the chocolate to me. This was a kid being a man and doing what I should have done.

A somber Solomon

Atleast I gave him something
to smile about

I took the chocolate and gave him some money but he refused to accept. With soggy eyes and barely able to speak I managed to mumble “ Solomon…I am lucky…God has bestowed upon me with the good fortune that I can pay for it so I think I should pay for it…if I didn't have the money I would have accepted your offer”, after which he relented.

A little later he even offered to share his meager lunch with me. By now Solomon had completely recovered but I couldn’t hold back the tears as I routinely turned away from him to wipe my tears before turning around and smiling at him not wanting to take the innocent smile away from his face. I don't think I am a softy…it has been a long time since I shed a tear. Even when my family is teary eyed each time they send me off from the Mumbai airport my tear sacks are dry. It has been over 5 years since I wept profusely but I don't know why his story really touched my heart.

This is the chocolate that the kid gave me

I know there are similarly underprivileged kids here in Liberia or for the matter in India, US or the whole world. There are people who perhaps are more underprivileged that him in this world but his story touched me like no other.

The patron soon returned with my money. I told him that I thought that Solomon was a good kid and he should take care of him. The patron assured me that he is thinking of sending him to school; I don't know if that will happen but I sure hope he does what he said.

I gave some money to Solomon but to this day I regret not giving enough. It’s probably my biggest regret over the past 4 years in Africa.

Soon I had to catch the bus to Douala so I put my arm around Solomon’s shoulder and wished him well as I made my way out of the store. All through the bus ride to Douala I wasn't able to shake his tragic story from my head or the moistness from my eyes. As I write this blog I have shed a few more tears but I promise myself that if I ever make it back to Limbe I will try to seek him out and see if I can help him.

This is probably a good time to acknowledge my good fortune - My parent are alive and healthy - Though middle class my parents tried to provide all they could to me and I never needed to be a breadwinner - I got a very good education - I live a fairly comfortable life - I have good health, sufficient time and enough money to travel and come across people like Solomon who are so much less privileged than I am.

I am indeed very fortunate!