By Nelson Afrisoh Amandong*
Peace, democracy and development advocate
In the aftermath of Cameroon’s October 12 presidential election, a curious and unsettling transformation has taken hold: politicians, traditional chiefs, and government ministers—who remained silent in the face of gross injustices and blatant electoral fraud—have suddenly proclaimed themselves as “Apostles of Peace.” From the corridors of power in Yaounde and the commercial arteries of Douala, to the bustling towns of Buea, Limbe, and Kumba, the rhetoric of unity, calm, and reconciliation dominates public discourse. Yet this chorus of peace rings hollow when measured against the stark reality visible on the streets.
The CPDM party, celebrating what it calls a “resounding victory,” has fortified this triumph with a pervasive and unmistakable show of force. Across Cameroon, major cities and Northern hubs—from Garoua, Maroua, and Ngaoundéré, to towns like Mokolo, Mora, Guider, Figuil, Meiganga, and Tibati—appear transformed into heavily patrolled zones. Armored vehicles, checkpoints, and uniformed personnel dominate landscapes that should be alive with post-election dialogue, civic celebration, and the vibrancy of everyday life. Citizens move carefully, aware that curiosity or dissent could invite scrutiny. The message is chillingly clear: the victory is proclaimed not just by the ballot, but by the barrel of a gun.
This paradox of “peace enforced by fear” strikes at the heart of democratic legitimacy. Elections are meant to reflect the will of the people, to empower citizens, and to give meaning to their votes. Yet when military might overshadow the voices of the electorate, one cannot help but ask: whose will is truly being represented? When ballots are drowned out by boots, and public opinion becomes invisible under a haze of intimidation, the essence of governance is threatened.
Across the Northern Regions, from Garoua to Maroua, Ngaoundéré to Mokolo, and down to towns like Mora, Guider, Figuil, Meiganga, and Tibati, life continues, but under an invisible weight of caution. Markets hum quietly, schools operate under watchful eyes, and streets are traversed with care. The vibrant pulse of civic life is muted, replaced by a calculated stillness, a controlled peace that prioritises order over freedom, and obedience over expression.
Yet, amidst this tension, there is still hope. True peace, the kind that lasts beyond proclamations and armored patrols, cannot be manufactured by power alone. It is born from trust, inclusion, and justice. It is nurtured when citizens feel their voices matter, when dialogue thrives, and when leadership is accountable not only to laws but to the conscience of the people. A nation’s strength is measured not by how silently it obeys, but by how boldly it can engage, challenge, and participate.
As Cameroon watches and waits for the official aftermath of October 12, one profound question lingers over every city and town: when the boots return to barracks and the armored vehicles retreat, will the nation’s peace endure, or will it vanish like a mirage, leaving only the memory of control masquerading as unity? The answer will define not just the present, but the very future of Cameroonian democracy—and the courage of its citizens to reclaim the true voice of their nation.* Author of The Inverted Pyramid of African Democracy: A Call for True Progress (+237 6 74 78 18 35)
