I was born in Kumba in the South West Region of Cameroon but my family later moved to our village called NKWEN in Bamenda: in the North West Region of Cameroon. This is where I spent the greater part of my childhood and my life as a teenager!
Each day I went to primary school : Catholic School Futru Nkwen, I learnt how different life in the village was compared to life in a township-Kumba; where I had done my nursery and early primary school years!
One of the things that caught my attention was how some of my primary school mates used to freely harvest fruits from nearby farms and compounds during break time and eat , sometimes without even washing these fruits. Mangoes, guavas, passion fruits, bananas, oranges,'nthoch', 'ankop' and many other fruits were easy to find and in large quantities! Usually the bigger and brave boys of the school would make a bet to see who could harvest more fruits within the shortest time possible.
Despite several warnings from our no nonsense headmaster ( Mr Clement Tamasang), I often wondered why some of my primary schoolmates would venture in to from someone else's property with no permission. I was told by one of the boys that 'life in the village was different, here there is so much foodstuff in the farms to harvest, many trees, many fruits and if you can have some for yourself then you won"t go hungry". I thought that was easier said !
As time went on I realised that not only was it a "bad" habit for some pupils to climb on trees in other people's compound and farms to harvest fruits, it was also a show of strength and how daring some could be!The funny thing was, some of our mates would rather over-eat than share their booty with others on the grounds that they were the ones who took the risk to climb on the trees and also did the harvesting.
One day my friend(Anto) and I were returning from school and decided to pass through 'Pa Adams' compound. Adam was his nickname as the story goes, given to him by the people of his neighbourhood because his compound was full of 'adam ' fruits better known as passion fruit. We met Pa Adams sitting in front of his house weaving a basket. We greeted him and begged if we could have some adam fruits. "Yes ma pikin dem" was his reply which meant Yes my children go ahead and harvest them. My friend and I looked at each other in total surprise! More so because it was often rumoured in the village that Pa Adams lived a solitary life, had no wife, no child nor grandchildren, hardly ever paid visits to other people and likewise. Perhaps that was the reason many feared coming to harvest fruits from his compound. For a moment we thought "should we freely go ahead and harvest the fruits, what if we eat them and something bad happens......? My friend and I then decided to go ahead as Pa Adams had asked us to. We both harvested quite a lot, packed some in to school bags, tied some unto our pullovers, then we quickly said "thank you Pa" to Pa Adams and varnished!
On our way home we were really excited we had been able to harvest much 'adam fruits' but we were too afraid to start eating them : we spoke of how we were going to break the news to our brothers and sisters as soon as we got home and to do same to other classmates the following day at school.There we were, we had asked for permission to harvest, we had been granted one, we actually did harvest but we were too scared to eat the fruits we so much wanted! What an irony!
Once home I told my sisters and brothers what had happened and asked them to come and share the fruits with me! Some did others didn't for fear that these fruits had been harvested from the "mysterious and much talked about" Pa Adams' compound!
But even as I sat there eating the fruits I had a little feeling running through my mind that Pa Adams could have actually been " a mystery and somewhat devilish" as was often rumoured in the village . Unfortunately no one ever said he was also a very kind man like he had just shown us by allowing us have as much passion fruits as we wanted. I spoke of his kindness thereafter but he wasn't liked by many people so it didn't matter to them. He had been labelled as a "lonely, mysterious, wicked old man, fit to die and be buried with a stone in his hand"!
Pa Adams died many years later but till date, this story comes to mind every time I see passion juice at the supermarkets.
And so through this post I remember Pa Adams' kindness and pray that his soul rests in peace!