Paul Nilong, Emmanuel Tita, Kizito Elad and Victor Mbah—are the the latest recruits who amplify narratives crafted in Yaoundé to delegitimise Dr. Samuel Ikome Sako to fracture the government-in-exile.
By The Independentist Editorial Desk
From traditional rulers and colonial administrators to parliamentarians and church leaders, Ambazonia’s revolution has been weakened not only by external force but by internal voices lending legitimacy to occupation.
A Familiar Rhythm of Revolutions
Revolutions, across history, follow a rhythm that is tragically predictable. They begin with grievances—deeply felt and long ignored—that crystallise into a call for justice. They rise on waves of collective action, and they confront powers unwilling to relinquish control.
The American Revolution of the 18th century began with a cry against “taxation without representation.” That phrase was not simply about money; it was about dignity. It reminded the colonists that they were never seen as equals, but as second-class subjects of the British crown.
Ambazonia’s grievances have been even sharper. For decades, its people endured systematic marginalisation: the erosion of their educational and legal systems, the suppression of their common law heritage, and the economic exploitation of their resources without benefit to their communities. When teachers and lawyers marched in 2016, they did more than protest professional grievances—they revealed the entrenched reality of second-class citizenship under La République du Cameroun.
The Inevitability of Betrayal
Every revolution produces heroes. But it also produces traitors. The American Revolution had George Washington, who endured. It also had Benedict Arnold, who betrayed. Arnold began as a decorated general, a patriot admired for his courage, but fell into resentment and corruption, eventually defecting to the British. His name survives in history, but only as a synonym for treason.
Ambazonia’s struggle has had its own Arnolds. Figures such as Cho Ayaba, Sisiku Ayuk Tabe, Iya Marianta, Chris Anu, and Ebenezer Akwanga once carried the banner of resistance, raising hopes and mobilising support. Yet, over time, ambition, disunity, and covert alliances have turned their energies against the very revolution they once championed.
They have not stood alone. Many of the traditional Fons and Chiefs, custodians of culture, accepted titles and patronage from the occupier in exchange for their loyalty. Colonial senators and parliamentarians—parading as representatives—have sat comfortably in Yaoundé while their people bled. Cabinet members and administrators, draped in the garments of office, have given Ambazonian legitimacy to a system designed to erase Ambazonia itself.
These betrayals, whether born of greed, ambition, or fear, have not strengthened the revolution. They have weakened it.
The Echo Chamber of Imperial Voices
Empires have always needed local allies. During America’s war for independence, loyalist pamphleteers urged colonists to accept subjugation as the natural order. Today, Ambazonia faces its own echo chambers of betrayal.
Some of these voices are political operatives—Paul Nilong, Emmanuel Tita, kizito Elad and Victor Mbah—who amplify narratives crafted in Yaoundé to delegitimise Dr. Samuel Ikome Sako to fracture the government-in-exile.
But the echo chamber extends further. Certain religious leaders, entrusted with the moral authority of shepherds, have chosen instead to bless the hand of the oppressor. Archbishop Andrew Nkea has appeared side by side with Yaoundé officials at state ceremonies, conferring spiritual cover on a false union. Bishop Michael Bibi, whose diocese lies at the heart of Ambazonian suffering, has discouraged public protest, casting the cry for liberation as disorder rather than justice. Reverend Samuel Fonki, head of the Presbyterian Church, has spoken the language of “dialogue” and “unity,” but his calls have too often legitimised colonial frameworks while silencing the legitimate demand for sovereignty.
These are not neutral interventions. They have the effect of confusing the faithful, weakening resistance, and softening the sharp truth of oppression. In lending their pulpits to the occupier’s script, they undermine the very people they are called to serve.
History’s Harsh Verdict
History is merciless in its memory of betrayal. Benedict Arnold gained temporary favour with the British, but no honour. He died in obscurity, remembered not for his early heroism but for his ultimate treachery.
So it will be with Ambazonia’s betrayers—politicians who chose titles over freedom, chiefs who chose stipends over culture, administrators who chose office over justice, and prelates who chose influence over truth. They will not be forgotten, but they will be remembered without honour.
When Ambazonia’s story is finally written, its heroes will be celebrated. Its betrayers will be listed, not as visionaries, but as examples of the consequences of ambition without principle.
The Enduring March
Revolutions endure because they belong to the many, not the few. The American colonists knew it; the Ambazonian people know it today. Betrayal may delay freedom, but it cannot erase it. The march continues. And history has already chosen its destination.
Betrayal is temporary; sovereignty is eternal.
The Independentist Editorial Desk
