This book richly documents the battles fought by the Anglophone community in Cameroon to safeguard the General Certificate of Education (GCE), a symbol of their cherished colonial heritage from Britain, from attempts by agents of the Ministry of National Education to subvert it. These battles opposed a mobilised and determined Anglophone civil society against numerous machinations by successive Francophone-dominated governments to destroy their much prided educational system in the name of 'national integration'. When Southern Cameroonians re-united with La R?publique du Cameroun in 1961, they claimed that they were bringing into the union 'a fine education system' from which their Francophone compatriots could borrow. Instead, they found themselves battling for decades to save their way of life. Central to their concerns and survival as a community is an urgent need for cultural recognition and representation, of which an educational system free of corruption and trivialisation through politicisation is a key component.

This book richly documents the battles fought by the Anglophone community in Cameroon to safeguard the General Certificate of Education (GCE), a symbol of their cherished colonial heritage from Britain, from attempts by agents of the Ministry of National Education to subvert it. These battles opposed a mobilised and determined Anglophone civil society against numerous machinations by successive Francophone-dominated governments to destroy their much prided educational system in the name of 'national integration'. When Southern Cameroonians re-united with La R?publique du Cameroun in 1961, they claimed that they were bringing into the union 'a fine education system' from which their Francophone compatriots could borrow. Instead, they found themselves battling for decades to save their way of life. Central to their concerns and survival as a community is an urgent need for cultural recognition and representation, of which an educational system free of corruption and trivialisation through politicisation is a key component.

This collection consists of 49 insightful essays by leading Cameroonian blogger Dibussi Tande, which originally appeared on his award-winning blog Scribbles from the Den. These essays tackle some of the most pressing and complex issues facing Cameroon today such as the stalled democratization process, the perennial Anglophone problem, the crisis of higher education, the absence of the rule of law, the lack of leadership renewal, a stifled collective memory, and a continued inability to harness technology for purposes of national development, among others. Scribbles from the Den goes beyond the news headlines to dispassionately analyze and unravel the complexities of Cameroonian politics and society.

Someplace, Somewhere is an exemplary piece of socio-political satire. It is a collection of short reflective stories that highlight the predicament of a people and exposes the ills of a society where neglect and decay are the nauseating lure and allure of everyday life. Carefully knit, this collection vividly provokes the nostalgia of the round-the-hearth rural evening story-telling atmosphere of yesteryears. Indeed, Bime has this knack for the fine details of story-telling, which blends so magically with her flare of crude humour, a combination that makes her social satire simply irresistible.

This intriguing novel chronicles one migrant worker's experiences on a colonial plantation in West Africa. Martin Tebi cannot wait to board a truck to the south where he hopes to become a pioneer at a newly established oil palm plantation. Once he arrives, he realizes that becoming a 'Big man' in a new environment would not be as easy as he had thought. Set in the South West Region of Cameroon near the Bakassi region, this captivating story told in an authentic voice that fuses Pidgin and Standard English would keep readers spellbound as they follow Martin through his many struggles to become the first African manager. The experiences of Martin Tebi would resonate with economically displaced people in any part of the world.

"Beatrice Bime has displayed creativity in story-telling through a narrative technique which tends to be a mixture of the subjective and the objective as well as the inclusion of a whole lot of experiences that are both contemporary and seemingly far removed from myth."-Bole Butake, Professor of African Literature, Yaounde University 1, Cameroon --

Africa?s Political Wastelands explores and confirms the fact that because of irresponsible, corrupt, selfish, and unpatriotic kleptocrats parading as leaders, the ultimate breakdown of order has become the norm in African nations, especially those south of the Sahara. The result is the virtual annihilation of once thriving and proud nations along with the citizenry who are transformed into wretches, vagrants, and in the extreme, refugees. Doh uses Cameroon as an exemplary microcosm to make this point while still holding imperialist ambitions largely responsible for the status quo in Africa. Ultimately, in the hope of jumpstarting the process, he makes pertinent suggestions on turning the tide on the continent.

Growing up almost simultaneously with the independent Cameroon nation, it takes Tipoung'he a long time together with challenging experiences to realise that he has all along been living in the shadow of his country. His epic story is representative of the many whose untold stories are caught in the schematic confusion of independence, in which self-knowledge must rally back finally from the lethargic ideals of the Nation and the Patriot in a redeeming instance of identity. The story mirrors the growth of the hero as he gets used to his ever shifting environment. The complexity of experience, the burden of knowledge, and how to express these, confront Tipoung'he with prescriptive arrogance, and the more he gets entangled in the authoritative and patriotic mesh, the more he becomes aware of the need to withdraw from their osmotic consciousness. The moment of withdrawal, which coincides with self-knowledge, is a personal and symbolic rebirth.

The celebrations that heralded democratic change in the 1990s in Africa have gradually faded into muffled cries of anger and attendant violence of despair. Almost everywhere on the continent so-called democratic leaders are openly subverting the people's will and disregarding national constitutions. Ordinary people find themselves removed from the centres of power, marginalized and reduced to helpless and hopeless onlookers as political leaders, their friends and families noisily enjoy the spoils of impunity. From Nigeria to Zimbabwe, Kenya to the Ivory Coast and Uganda to Cameroon, the writing is on the wall. The experiment with democracy has blatantly taken a dangerous nosedive. There is a crisis of honest, committed and democratic leadership, in spite of the advancements in education and intellectualism of the populace, and despite the influences of globalization and new understandings of governance. In this brief volume, Tatah Mentan makes an incisive diagnosis of how the "security forces" brutally crush protests against bids to stay in power through corrupt electoral practices as well as how opposition voices have been hunted down and crushed or intimidated into graveyard silence. This is a clarion call for Africans to embrace the values of People Power in synch with the dictates of the current global imperatives. There is no place for visionless leadership. Africans need to raise their voices to recapture their freedom.

Son of the Native Soil is a work whose quiet maturity glows in both subject and style. Here, love heals but the force of hate is very real. The hero, Lucas Achamba, by charisma and love undertakes to unite Dudum clan which politicking and egotism have split. His quick success stirs bitter rivalry and heartless cruelty that decide his fate. Nature is jumpy and even hysterical at this, and Ambanasom exposes it with fine evocative mastery. The style is refined and honeyed by sonal devices and visual tropes that half conceal subtle slashes at human foibles.