For the people of Ambazonia, the lesson is equally clear. The path to justice will not emerge from within the structures that have denied it. It will not be granted through internal adjustments or cosmetic reforms. It must be pursued with clarity, with strategy, and with an unshakable commitment to the principles of self-determination.
By The Independentistnews Editorial desk
There are moments in the life of a state when a single decree reveals more truth than decades of official speeches. The recent decision by Paul Biya to reinstate the office of Vice President is one such moment. It is not reform. It is not renewal. It is not even adaptation. It is preservation—of power, of structure, and of a system that has long resisted accountability.
For over forty years, Cameroon functioned without a Vice Presidency. Its sudden resurrection, at a time when the question of succession looms large, is not coincidental. It is deliberate. It is calculated. And above all, it is revealing. Let us be clear: this is not about governance. It is about control.
By creating a Vice President who is appointed rather than elected, and who automatically assumes power in the event of vacancy, the regime has engineered a transition that bypasses the will of the people. It is a constitutional shortcut dressed in the language of stability. A mechanism not to empower the nation, but to insulate the system from uncertainty. And yet, in this calculated move lies an unintended confession.
For decades, the state has projected an image of permanence—of continuity so assured that change was unthinkable. But this decree betrays a quiet anxiety at the heart of power. It acknowledges, without saying so, that the era of one man cannot last forever. That the machinery of control must now prepare for a future it cannot fully command. But even in preparing for that future, the regime has chosen the path of exclusion.
Nowhere in this restructuring is there recognition of the crisis that has defined the last decade. Nowhere is there acknowledgment of the people of Southern Cameroons, whose demand for self-determination has reshaped the political landscape. Nowhere is there an opening—however small—for dialogue, for federalism, or for justice. Instead, the message is unmistakable: succession will proceed, but the structure will remain. This is the tragedy of the moment.
At a time when the state could have chosen transformation, it has chosen continuity. At a time when it could have addressed the root causes of conflict, it has doubled down on the very architecture that produced it. The reinstatement of the Vice Presidency is not a step forward. It is a reinforcement of the past. And yet, history teaches us that such moments, while designed to close doors, often reveal the cracks in the walls.
For the international community, this decree should be read not as a sign of stability, but as evidence of fragility. Systems that are confident in their legitimacy do not need to pre-arrange succession behind closed doors. They do not need to centralize authority in anticipation of uncertainty. They trust the people. They trust the process. This system does neither.
For the people of Ambazonia, the lesson is equally clear. The path to justice will not emerge from within the structures that have denied it. It will not be granted through internal adjustments or cosmetic reforms. It must be pursued with clarity, with strategy, and with an unshakable commitment to the principles of self-determination. The decree changes many things within the corridors of power. But it changes nothing in the fundamental question before us:
Who decides the future of a people?
Until that question is answered with honesty and justice, no office—whether President or Vice President—can claim legitimacy over those who were never part of the covenant. The world must now choose how it will read this moment. As continuity. Or as a warning.
The Independentistnews Editorial desk
