For Biya, clinging to power is not about solving problems, governing effectively, or reforming a decaying state. It is an act of personal survival — a political shield against the judgment of history, internal betrayal, and possible external prosecution.
The Independentist – Editorial Desk
Biya — a long-seasoned product of French intelligence — fully understands the peril that awaits him should he ever relinquish the reins of power. The fate of André-Marie Mbida and Ahmadou Ahidjo stands as a cautionary tale. Both men, once central figures in the De Gaulle-inspired presidential monarchy that Cameroon inherited from France, were eventually discarded into the dustbin of history. They became expendable once their usefulness ended — a fate that will almost certainly befall Biya and his inner circle, though not while they are alive and in command.
For Biya, clinging to power is not about solving problems, governing effectively, or reforming a decaying state. It is an act of personal survival — a political shield against the judgment of history, internal betrayal, and possible external prosecution. The same survival instinct courses through the veins of his henchmen, whose political and financial fortunes are tied inextricably to his continued rule.
Chief Dion Ngute, long presented as a symbol of “Anglophone inclusion,” knows that his relevance evaporates the moment Biya’s system collapses. Bouba Bello Maigari and Paul Tassong, key operators in the Francophone elite and its financial machinery, are deeply invested in the continuity of the regime’s patronage networks. Akere Muna and Joshua Osih, dressed in the garb of reformists, have ultimately operated within the safe corridors of the system — never crossing the line of true challenge to its foundations.
Fai Yengo Francis, who moved from the governorship to the DDR machinery, has long chosen complicity over conscience. Atanga Nji, the regime’s Minister of Terrorism, as well as Emile Bamkoui, Philemon Yang, Louis Paul Motaze, and Issa Tchiroma have each tied their political survival to Biya’s longevity. They know that without him, the intricate web of protection, privilege, and power they enjoy would unravel swiftly.
And now, fools rush in where angels fear to tread. In the midst of betrayal and quiet alignments, low-key operatives like Agbor Balla have shown a growing interest in joining the club. A flirtatious and calculating individual, he has begun to position himself subtly within the periphery of the regime’s circles. According to intelligence observations, on the night of September 28, at around 11 p.m., he was spotted at the Fairfield Hotel in Laurel, Maryland, holding hands with an African American lady — a scene that, while personal, speaks volumes about his social agility and appetite for charm. In regimes like Biya’s, such appetites can be weaponized; personal vulnerabilities and desires often become valuable assets for manipulation and recruitment.
Similarly, during his last campaign stop in Kumba, Dion Ngute openly bragged about experiencing his first romance in the town — a statement that, though cloaked in humor, reveals much about the moral fabric and social attitudes of many in the regime’s orbit. Like Agbor Balla, such behavior reflects a mindset in which personal indulgence is paraded rather than tempered, a cultural undercurrent that helps explain the persistently high rates of HIV infections across towns and cities in the territory. These casual displays of personal conduct by political figures are not mere anecdotes; they are windows into a broader moral and social decay fostered by those who occupy the highest echelons of power.
Meanwhile, Biya’s sudden and heavily publicized campaign in the North was a calculated move aimed at breaking the emerging northern alliance between Bouba Bello Maigari and Issa Tchiroma Bakary. Whether or not this maneuver has succeeded remains to be seen. However, the rumors of military personnel surrounding Tchiroma’s residence shortly after he exercised his right to vote reveal both the regime’s paranoia and Tchiroma’s underestimation of its capacity for coercion. His rising popularity has clearly unsettled Yaoundé. Yet, in many ways, Tchiroma has not learned the lessons of 1992.
Back then, John Fru Ndi was shielded by the people. The population became his armor when the regime’s hyenas were ready to tear him apart — especially after Britain declared it had no strategic or economic interest in Southern Cameroons, effectively giving France and Biya a free hand. Tchiroma, by contrast, stands largely alone, relying more on political momentum than on popular protection. This exposes him to the same ruthless power plays that have defined the regime for decades.
Now, after a lifetime of loyal service to French intelligence and interests, Biya finds himself utterly alone, forced to face the wrath of his own people without the protective shield of France. The geopolitical winds are shifting, and the empire that once propped him up is retreating into its own crises. Without that cover, the very system he built becomes his trap.
In truth, this network operates less as a government and more as a mutually assured survival pact. Each figure is bound to the other by secrets, corruption, and complicity — unable to defect without risking collective collapse. It is this logic, not any commitment to national progress, that explains the regime’s stubborn endurance despite internal rot and external pressure.
Ultimately, Biya’s refusal to step down is not an act of strength but of fear. His entourage clings to him not out of loyalty, but because their fates are interlocked. And like their predecessors Mbida and Ahidjo, they too will one day face the verdict of history — perhaps not in life, but inevitably in death and legacy.
The Independentist – Editorial Desk
