By Kesah Princely and Njukang Princeley, Cameroon
Discussions about the impact of armed conflict on disabled people often fail to resonate with many. However, Nuhu Bello’s recent dark experience in the hands of armed men in Cameroon’s war torn Northwest region, has left many shocked. The visually impaired university student thought he had surmounted the biggest storm of his life’s journey on earth until that faithful evening when not even his White Cane could safe him.
Difficult but promising beginning for Nuhu Bello
Cattle rearing is the main economic activity of the Mbororo population, and Nuhu would never have had access to formal education had he not lost his sight at a tender age.”I was busy taking care of my father’s ship and cattle in the bush when I was 11 years,” he says.
In 2009, the young Nuhu took ill of glaucoma and later completely lost his sight. This was the start of a new challenge which would soon open doors for not just Nuhu but other Mbororo children with disabilities as well. When he learned, for the first time, that blind people could go to school, he immediately wanted to go. But being an Mbororo meant it was going to be all the more difficult to convince his parents. This is because they are primarily nomads and predominantly Moslems. “Education is not in our way of life and convincing my parents to accept that I go to school was almost impossible. We, disabled people are seen within the Mbororo community as patients who should stay home and be cared for,” Nuhu tells DNA.
Many persons took time to convince Nuhu’s parents that blindness is not an illness, and that they should get the little boy sent to school. However, these calls continued falling on deaf ears until an American medical doctor who spoke Fufude, a local language of the Mbororo visited and talked to them. ”My father told me he only accepted to give it a try because he was one of us,” he recounts.
New life in education.
Nuhu too did not ever think education was going to turn his story around. Instead, he constantly questioned why he would not stay home and have good care. “I never knew a blind boy could ever be useful to the extent of performing well in school. I had to go because my parents asked me to,” he says in a rather low tune.
Nuhu was admitted into the Kumbo Integrated School for the Blind which is run by the Baptist Mission in Cameroon. While attending elementary education in the said institution, two things pricked his mind which would motivate him to love education to the point of being kidnapped by gunmen while chasing knowledge. “I developed sudden interest when I saw other blind children learning. I also met and interacted with pupils who came from the Mbororo community,” he reveals.
Nuhu Bello would learn and become vested with the writing and reading of Braille, a writing widely used by blind and partially sighted persons around the world, a giant step which fuelled his enthusiasm towards completing primary school and quickly moving to College. While in junior secondary school, Nuhu’s excellent performance earned him a spot in the Children’s Parliament. He became the first blind Mbororo student to represent Bui Division in the National Assembly session held in the capital, Yaoundé, on June 16, 2014. now a huge motivation to his parents, they were willing to sacrifice even their last cattle to ensure their child continues to shine in school. This also encouraged other Mbororo parents to think of letting their children acquire formal education, though with so much hesitance.
A journey which had become so sweet and supported by many within the Mbororo community suddenly hit the rocks following the outbreak of a crisis in Anglophone Cameroon in late 2016 when Nuhu was in senior secondary school. The said crisis compelled him to stay home for a year, but the passion for education caused him to relocate to the neighbouring West region, where he continued schooling. However, he would eventually need to come home for university education in Bamenda, capital city of the Northwest region. Unfortunately for him, the crisis had escalated to an armed conflict, the Anglophone conflict. So determined to acquire university education and make a difference in his community, Nuhu took the option to attend school under flying bullets.
About Cameroon Anglophone conflict
In 2016, Anglophone lawyers and teachers in separate protests demanded better working conditions from the country’s francophone dominated government. Calls for reforms included a return to a two state federation, withdrawal of francophone magistrates from Anglophone courts, improvement in technical education standards, the removal of francophone teachers from Anglophone schools, among others. Cameroon’s government under President Paul Biya, according to the Crisis Group, delayed to grant the reforms, prompting thousands of angry youths to join the protests. In November of the same year, thousands of youths embarked on street demonstrations in Bamenda and Buea, main cities of the Northwest and Southwest regions also known as Anglophone Cameroon. But their protest was attended with brutal resistance from Cameroon’s defence and security forces. Rights groups and local media reported that some of the protesters were killed with live bullets while dozens of others were arrested. This resulted in the formation of armed groups with sponsorship from individuals in the Diaspora. What began as a socio-professional crisis escalated to an armed conflict in 2017. Since then, nearly six thousand civilians including persons with disabilities have been killed and almost a million others displaced internally and externally. The conflict has had a horrendous effect on persons with disabilities, largely limiting their access to education, shelter, healthcare and economic activities. The latest disabled victim is Nuhu Bello, and his only crime is that he is a student.
Nuhu Bello’s detailed experience in captivity
Now a History Teacher in training at the Higher Teachers Training College in The University of Bamenda, Nuhu had just stepped out to get food at a nearby restaurant when he fell in wrong hands. “I got on a wrong bike after eating and was taken to the bush instead of my house,” he says.
It was about 6 pm local time, 5 pm GMT-1 when this all happened, and since he could not see, the abductors had an easy ride getting him to their base in the bush. “While in the camp, they gave me a little chair where I spent the night. Then, they took my phones and search them all night, forcing me to provide them with the password to my mobile money account,” he recounts.
“They threatened me to respond to their questions or be killed, insisting they could not be in the bush while I went to school,” he adds.
That long night, they carried out some activities which Nuhu says affected his health so badly. “They made a lot of fire to keep warm and smoked hard drugs all night and the smoke affected my eyes terribly”. ”The next day, they forced me to eat rice cooked with a lot of drugs,” he reveals sorrowfully.
as if the torment was not enough, the gunmen forcefully withdrew 350,000 francs CFA (about 575 USD( from his phone and went on to phone his parents to pay a ransom of 1089000 francs (nearly 1775 USD) for his release. “They hit my head many times with their guns and said they would kill me if my parents did not send the requested amount,” he recounts, his eyes filled with tears.
Nuhu’s parents loved their son so much, and would not afford to lose him. Within hours, they raised the funds and sent through an account detail the men had provided. Their hearts thumbed with a furious kind of fear, as they awaited the return of their child. This is because many abductees have been killed even after ransoms were paid.
About 9 pm GMT+1, the gunmen took Nuhu on a bike and dropped him off a road junction. “I did not know where I was as I stood in complete confusion. I had also been robbed of every dime and my two phones. I could neither call anyone nor bud a bike or taxi home,” he intimates.
After waiting for about an hour, a saviour came his way. “I heard a bike and stopped it. Then I calmly explained my situation to the bike rider and he took me home,” Nuhu reveals.
It is not clear who Nuhu’s abductors were, but he suspects they might have been separatist fighters. “From their activities and the fact that they were angry that I was a student, plus searching my phone in case they would find contacts belonging to soldiers; all these suggested to me that they were separatists,” he thinks.
the situation of Nuhu Bello is a reflection of what persons with disabilities in Anglophone Cameroon go through, as they struggle to survive amidst the raging conflict, which is now in its 8th year.
Days of agony after regaining freedom
Nuhu might have fled the danger but bitter memories continue to fill his mind. He says he still feels devastated and disoriented, despite numerous attempts to rekindle his love for education, the one thing that has held him in wholeness since he lost his sight almost 15 years ago. “I isolate myself as much as possible and suspect everyone who comes around me,” he says. Flash backs, Night-mares and heightened anxiety are now all too common to him, as he battles posttraumatic disorder. “Those 24 hours in their hands are everything you would never wish for, not even for your enemies,” he claims. He has been compelled to evacuate his residence to a new side which is over five kilometres away from the university campus and mastering his new environment, neighbours and meeting up with cost of living are barriers the 26 year old struggles to manage daily.
Francis Tanifum, renowned psychologist and researcher in Bamenda says physical and psychological healing are a process and not an activity. He revealed in an interview with DNA that Nuhu, just like his other disabled peers are exposed to danger more by virtue of their impairments.
“Knowing that one cannot see, hear or run each time government forces and separatist fighters are exchanging gunshots is already a huge risk,” he says of those with visual, hearing and mobility impairments trapped in the raging war of separation in Anglophone Cameroon.
Francis, who is equally a Guidance Counsellor, says helplessness and hopelessness easily set in when disabled people find themselves in war situations. “They start feeling that they are a burden because their independence is severely threatened. They also feel hopeless because focus is on other priorities and hardly on their situation, making it difficult to provide them with the requisite amenities for inclusion and equitable participation, and such hopelessness is not without health consequences,” he regrets.
The expert intimates that the neglect of persons with disabilities during this period of the Cameroon Anglophone conflict compels most of them to prefer isolation to appearing in public. They turn to be paranoid and lonely, and this is a dangerous thing that should not happen to anyone. “Isolation leads to the loss of self esteem and eventually to depression which is a terrible situation which many disabled persons unfortunately find themselves in,” Francis laments.
Way out
Education is an inalienable Human Right and depriving persons with disabilities in Anglophone Cameroon because of the raging conflict has been interpreted by experts as a mental genocide against these persons, who are already disadvantaged in so many ways. Nuhu is one of very few blind Mbororo persons in Cameroon to attain university education and killing his morale has a long term effect on the entire community. The pace setter though remains courageous, hoping his advocacy does not go unrewarded.
In 2022, Aishatu Fabane, a Cameroonian researcher revealed in a PhD thesis defence that only 200 Mbororo students were enrolled in the university that year. The situation is worse for blind Mbororo persons who are widely regarded as patients who need treatment and not education. While particular focus is on disabled Mbororo persons, the situation of the general community of people with disabilities in Anglophone Cameroon amidst the conflict is a major cause for concern. The 2006 UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities calls for protection and inclusive humanitarian schemes to disabled people during disasters and conflict situations. The 4th 1949 Geneva Convention which mandate parties in war to protect civilians and their property has not been upheld in the situation in Anglophone Cameroon, provoking a growing debate on the position of International Humanitarian Laws as disabled people continue to pay the price.
Francis tanifum says more silence would only see disabled persons die as the Anglophone Cameroon war has no signs of ending any time soon. “Rigorous therapy is required to help those already suffering from trauma, depression and other mental health complications as soon as possible,” he recommends.
During a mental health training in Buea, southwest region organised by Foundation for the Inclusion and Empowerment of Persons with Disabilities, a not for profit organisation which DNA owes its existence to, participants shared bitter experiences, calling for more workshops on the subject. While hoping for such trainings in the near future, Nuhu has a piece of advice for his disabled peers. “Exercise vigilance in everything you do because your disability leaves you more vulnerable to attacks. Always go around with a guide anytime you can because we are not safe so long as the conflict remains unresolved.”.
Njukang Princeley