The British southern cameroons paid for this fighter jet to rescue an ungrateful colonial master.
By Ali Dan Ismael editor in chief
In 1941, at the height of the Second World War, the people of British Southern Cameroons, a small UN Trust Territory under British stewardship, made a noble gesture that should have echoed across history. Despite colonial subjugation and political voicelessness, they raised money for a Supermarine Spitfire—the British fighter aircraft that helped turn the tide against Nazi Germany.
That aircraft, christened the “Victoria Cameroon”, flew in Britain’s defense, funded by a people who had no planes of their own, no army, and no vote in Westminster. They contributed in the belief that their loyalty would one day be honoured with liberty.
What they received instead was betrayal.
The Mamfe Conference: A Clear Voice Ignored
In 1959, traditional rulers, civil society leaders, and political representatives gathered in Mamfe for what became one of the most defining conferences in the history of British Southern Cameroons. The overwhelming consensus of the Mamfe Conference was clear and unmistakable:
The people of Southern Cameroons desired full independence.
This resolution was sent to the British Colonial Office and the United Nations Trusteeship Council. But by the time the matter returned from London, something had changed.
It was Sir Andrew Cohen, Britain’s former Colonial Under-Secretary and then the UK representative to the United Nations Trusteeship Council, who insisted that the 1961 plebiscite offer only two options:
Join the already independent Federal Republic of Nigeria, or
Join the still-unformed Republic of Cameroon, then governed under French trusteeship.
The third option—complete independence—was removed without consultation, without explanation, and without regard for the expressed will of the people.
What Changed? The Price of Strategic Silence
To this day, no official explanation has been offered for the reversal. But historians and diplomats point to a likely diplomatic grievance lodged by President Ahmadou Ahidjo of Cameroon, acting under French strategic influence, following the loss of Northern Cameroons to Nigeria in an earlier plebiscite.
It is believed that Ahidjo, angered by Britain’s handling of the Northern Cameroons vote, pressured London to block the independence of Southern Cameroons—threatening to derail postcolonial regional cooperation and French-West African alliances if Britain allowed another region to go free.
Rather than defend the expressed democratic will of the people—already affirmed at Mamfe—Britain capitulated. And so, under Sir Andrew Cohen’s direction, the United Nations was asked to endorse a binary vote that forced Ambazonians to choose their poison, with no path to sovereignty.
To the people of Ambazonia, this was not just a betrayal of a promise—it was the theft of a nation.
And What Came After?
Since the ill-fated plebiscite and Britain’s conspicuous absence from the 1961 Foumban Conference, Ambazonians have lived under a foreign constitutional order they did not help draft, did not negotiate, and never ratified.
What began as a federal arrangement was quickly dismantled. In 1972, Cameroon abolished the federation entirely. Southern Cameroons was annexed in all but name, reduced to a marginalised minority ruled from Yaoundé, its language, institutions, and aspirations systematically dismantled.
And What Does Britain Say Today?
When questioned today, British officials repeat the worn-out reply:
“The plebiscite resolved our obligations.”
But that plebiscite was designed by a diplomat who ignored the Mamfe consensus, removed the most legitimate option, and then washed his hands of the outcome. And Britain’s claim of resolved responsibility rings hollow as Ambazonia bleeds.
A Letter, A Legacy, and the Commonwealth’s Test
Ambazonia is now eagerly awaiting the response to the open letter addressed to the Commonwealth of Nations. The letter, grounded in documented international law and moral appeal, outlines Britain’s unresolved trusteeship obligations and the tragic consequences of neglect.
But will the Commonwealth reply with action, or with another conspiracy of silence?
Only time will tell whether the new Secretary-General, The Honourable Shirley Ayorkor Botchwey of Ghana, will hear our cry—or walk the same diplomatic tightrope of avoidance that her predecessors did.
History reminds us that Ghana once stood for Ambazonia. It was Kwame Nkrumah who personally supported John Ngu Foncha, even helping finance his campaign against the incumbent EML Endeley, under the vision of African self-rule and unity. Today, we appeal to that same Ghanaian conscience.
Will it rise again?
Ambazonians Shall Never Forget
They remember Sir Andrew Cohen.
They remember the Mamfe Conference.
They remember “The Victoria Cameroon” Spitfire.
And they remember the silence that followed.
If Britain left the European Union to escape elitist bureaucracy and defend sovereignty, how then does it justify robbing another people of that same sovereignty?
Today, Ambazonians still export bananas to Britain and Europe—below fair market price, while our people are killed with weapons supplied by foreign powers. We are not merely forgotten. We are exploited, erased, and denied the dignity of history.
Conclusion: A Debt Long Overdue
This editorial is not a demand for pity. It is a call for acknowledgment.
Ambazonia is asking Britain—and the entire Commonwealth—to reckon with their role, not only in WWII, but in the unfinished decolonisation of Southern Cameroons. Ambazonia calls on the UK to recognise the historical injustice, support credible mediation, and pay reparations for its policy of strategic abandonment.
Ambazonia shall never forget.
Not the Spitfire.
Not Mamfe.
Not the silence.
Ali Dan Ismael is a senior editorial contributor at The Independentist. He writes on historical justice, conflict resolution, and post-colonial transitions.
