By Mwalimu George Ngwane
It is with a heavy heart that I read (in The Post of Monday , January 31, 2005) of the death of ace columnist Barry Fohtung. Ah! memories; memories of the early 90s when together with Dibussi Tande,Jing Thomas Ayeah, BB, Taku Charles, Rodcod Gobata, Paddy Mbawa, Charly Ndichia, Francis Wache and the rest of the Young Turks, Barry would write those fine essays on the state and future of our collective destiny as a people.
Even though we shaped the countours of our geo-poltical space with our pens, I only got to meet Barry for the first time in the year 2000. Tall and taciturn, dark and daring, handsome and hale,Barry's sarcastic style in writing contrasted with his seducing smile in demeanour. The last time I met him was at Bate Besong's book launch in Yaounde March 2004 and there was nothing on his physique that betrayed death's hidden agenda.
I wonder whether he lived to see the democratic train he had so much wanted to board for his life's sruggle got caught at the crossroads of mortality. But I know he will, with a golden pen in hand, join the angelic scribes to scribble those celestial verses that will one day make our terrestrial triangle live to the tenets of its National anthem.
Bye, Brother, bye.
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