By Kangsen Wakai
Simon,
It is quite disheartening that our introduction, much anticipated on my part, should be by way of a letter. By the way, I had often envisioned a much more idyllic and poetic setting for such an occasion. But alas, circumstances have dictated otherwise, and here we are meeting one another in the most unusual of terms.
My name is Kangsen Feka Wakai and like you I am a journalist and writer from the English speaking part of Cameroon.
My guess is something in you, being the sensitive soul that you probably are [for poets can be sensitive], is aware of how we are reacting to the news of your arrest. And not to mince words, if I may add, your condition already has the makings of a very sad poem.
In fact, if I do speak for many who do not have the opportunity to express themselves on this matter, we are still embarrassed, saddened and shocked to when we heard the news of your arrest.
But Simon, we are not actually hurt because you are under arrest; it is what you have been accused of doing that makes us hurt and worry for your well being and the well-being of many who will be judged based on your actions.
None of us are in your shoes hence cannot claim to know how you feel in this moment of solitude and uncertainty. And isn’t it quite pathetic that the words I now utter are dead. And dead words cannot feed or rescue but part of the cyclical process of being.
In spite your bleak circumstance, Simon, I am still certain that you have the exuberance and fortitude for such an unenviable undertaking. You, like others before you will pull through and live to tell your story, but Simon, I do regret the fact that the Simon I might end up meeting will not be the Simon we all assumed we knew from a distance. It is amazing how much of a factor a single action, public or private, can disintegrate a lifetime of virtue. That is a lesson we must be reminded of.
The things for which you are accused of are shameful and downright indecent, in fact so vile it would not be overly dramatic to tag your actions evil, so Simon I hope you are not surprised that you have become the target, deservingly so, of the most hateful and racist attacks in that part of Slavic Europe. You have been lynched and stoned. You will bear the brunt of the suppressed frustrations of racist bigots everywhere. It will burn like fire and would feel eternal.
Friends may even turn their backs on you. They may deem you repugnant and not worthy of their friendship. People will dissociate themselves from you and even deny they ever knew you. They already have. And Simon, can you blame them? The actions you are being accused of are so vile it is hard for me to associate them with you. It is that bitter of a candy to suck on, it corrodes the tongue but the reality is you did do those things and I am reminded of how low we humans can stoop.
Simon, I write with a heavy heart but I must write. I must write because your fate is a reflection of our fate. You have become the latest mirror on which we can look at ourselves, analyze ourselves and perhaps redeem ourselves as a people. us.
Your triumph was ours so we shall not abandon you in your fall for we bear some responsibility, though minute, in your making. Simon, that is why I write to you and for you… hoping that there is a lesson hidden in the thicket of this scandal. Praying, naively, but praying still that this is all a nightmare. But as weeks go by, it is dawning on me that this is no nightmare or sojourn into the depths hell in the sub-conscious. No! You are actually being held in jail for intentionally infecting Polish girls with what the Polish say is a virulent strain [of course of African origin, Cameroon to be specific] of the H.I.V. virus.
I would not join the chorus of those who are utilizing this moment to hurl you to the scales of morality and pass judgment on you. It is too complex of an issue for me to be that petty—besides; if the accusations are true your conscience already has its hands full.
But before we delve into our role as culture in molding you into the person you have become, I think it is only fair that I paint you a picture, slightly fictitious but appropriate that demonstrates and illustrates the extent of your alleged actions.
The setting of this drama is a racist Slavic country, still steeped in its provinciality and backwardness, no fault of theirs, but an unfair outcome of that villain dubbed history. An African escaping his home, rendered inhabitable by forces unbeknownst to him, finds himself on the gates of Europe, albeit in a developing European country. Being the free spirit that he is, a renaissance African [or in the patronizing words of a Belgian blog commentator, a sophisticated black European] and representing everything the last five hundred years of white supremacist propaganda has taught them [Slavs] not to associate with black people, more so, those savage Africans, this African was a different. He was articulate, confrontational—not the meek caricatures of Tintin fame, and possessed an assertiveness and intelligence that was enviable and charming. The scales began falling from their eyes. Those Eastern Europeans began embracing him. He became what black Americans call HNIC [Head Nigger In Charge]
His dramatic street protests in colorful garbs, though a nuisance for most Polish, were hailed as picture perfect examples of Polish liberalism and tolerance. A new phase in Polish history had started and he was color in a multi-cultural Poland, a postcard for all of Europe to see.
Then he started sleeping with their women. He wrote poems about their women. He fell in love with their women.
That is where the trouble started.
No, he infected their women with an incurable disease. And he did so intentionally.
Simon that African could be you. It could be anyone. You’ve been accused of intentionally infecting Polish women with the HIV virus. Unfortunately Simon, that African is you.
That is serious stuff. Talk of drama…
But Simon, the tragedy of this drama doesn’t solely rest on you, its consequences transcend the pain you are feeling at this dreadful moment [and I wish it comes to pass] in your life.
Simon, a commentator compared us to dogs, dogs, Simon. So can you see how far your actions have taken us back? The racists in Poland are already sharpening their fangs to devour you. You have fed their childlike imaginations. You have become the face of death, a death that is black and daunting.
Actually the issue we should all be addressing, fortunately for the Polish and unfortunately for us, is not Polish bigotry and racism. It is about a poor European country opening its arms to embrace and host you because your country, our country, was unable to tolerate the ideals that you stood for.
I wasn’t there with you but I am certain it must have been an excruciating decision for whoever had to make it. Poland has never been known for racial pluralism and for them to embrace you the way they did must have soothed their collective conscience in an intangibly profound manner, I am almost certain of that.
I read your writings on Polish racism especially after you were physically assaulted. I was saddened but couldn’t help but wonder why you chose Poland in the first place as a host country. But then I had to remember that when one is on the run, anywhere one finds refuge becomes home, even in Canary Islands.
Like I had initially indicated, I will not address racism and its role in your situation, though the reports I have gotten about Europe from friends and family, Poland seems no different from most European countries as far as bigotry is concerned. It is racist and intolerant to Africans. Period.
Even if we were to assume that Poland were more racist than other European countries, can you and I really blame them?
No! For as you and I are well aware, colonized people like us forfeited our images to the colonizers when we forfeited our gods, tongue and entire reality. In our case, our image has been devoured, stitched, redefined and prostituted on the global psyche. Your actions do not help us.
For the apathetic majority of humanity, we are AIDS ridden, war-hungry, starving, raping, inefficient brutes who are not equipped individually or collectively with the skill or will to civilize themselves. Though not stated in such blatant language, in most cases that is the gist of most news reports and writings on Africa by Africans and non-Africans alike. It is an unfortunate outcome of our conquest we must contend with but challenge everyday with every aspect of our being. It is quite a task but it must be done.
Simon, in your activism and work you undid many of those misconceptions.
But alas, we are confronted with your situation that is as confusing is as it is hurting.
In the meantime, though we await the outcome of the legal proceedings, we must continue to hope that this is a nightmare.
However, as repulsive as this issue might be on the surface, your misfortune may become the basis and inspiration for the initiation of a dialogue. An engaging, open and rationale dialogue that may shed some light and perhaps even answer some of the unanswered questions about why we continue, as a culture, to attach a stigma to this disease in spite of how counterproductive that has proven to be in the fight against its spread.
Simon, lest we forget, you are by no means the first or the last that will be infected with this disease. Unfortunately for you, your case because of the profile of the subject, an exiled poet, may be the spark that is necessary for us to re-educate ourselves about the spread the HIV virus. It may also become a reference case for evil against innocent people, which is quite unfortunate.
Though programs are in place in our society to raise awareness of the disease and the importance of protected sex not enough attention is being paid to the subtleties in our worldview that contribute to the spread of the disease. Like a wild fire it is devouring our youth and leaving childless parents to age with no one to support their fragile bones.
Mind you, I am in no way condemning the methods being used though I might suggest that we must all seize this moment, an outcome of your situation, to do some self-reflection within the context of the disease and the era.
For example, let us take the case of parent-child rapport. Ours is a culture still unwilling to liberate itself from archaic and impractical [considering how times have changed] attitudes towards sex. For whatever reason, parents in our culture refuse to acknowledge the fact that their children are sexually active. They find in this denial, a comfort that is both misleading and empty. Their children are propelled into a sexual world with no ammunition, no counsel, and no guidance, just a craving for the forbidden. Besides, who isn’t tempted to taste the sacred?
This refusal by our parents to discuss sex is a hurdle we must eradicate because the consequences are too grave for us as a society to tolerate.
In most cases, if an individual is infected they are faced with the prospects of being isolated, despised and psychologically excommunicated for having a taboo of a disease. That is what victims of the disease must contend with, honesty against isolation, lies against companionship. And who amongst us with a beating heart, blood running through their veins doesn’t crave for the warmth of another being especially in time of sickness?
Financial resources have been utilized in excess to raise awareness of the existence of this virus. At this point in the fight against such a resilient and seemingly indomitable enemy, perhaps it is time some resources are committed to educating people about the unquestionable humanity of those infected, Simon, for they are human, just like you and your victims.
This might seem like an insignificant or inoperable terrain to thread on but I can almost guarantee that when our society is able to embrace infected people, infected people would see no need in hiding their infection and in turn others are saved from this cycle of infection. In embracing infected people and uninfected people alike we embrace ourselves.
Simon my hope is your tragedy can initiate such a dialogue so that when you walk out of that Polish jail, we can embrace you again. Mind you, embracing you and finding the courage and will to forgive you will not be easy. But the long road to forgiveness has begun, at least on my part hoping that you find the peace to forgive yourself.
So, it is only appropriate that I leave you with this Soyinka quote to reflect on:
‘My shadow is trapped but not my essence.’
My dear friend, the daemon in us is quite an abominable genius and its machinations too mysterious for us, mere mortals, to comprehend so whilst in that cage of confinement take heart and never let the man in you die..
Sincerely
Kangsen Feka Wakai
Houston, Texas
Hello Kangsen
What a letter. Your sound so satiric.You are a classic explain of an intelligent.Many Thanks to Justice Wakai the simply, honest and God fearing person that brought you forth
Emmanuel Ngang
HTO PH TSSF
Cameroon
237 77 91 36 75
Posted by: Emmaunel Ngang | March 22, 2010 at 08:05 AM