We henceforth would open our eyes, as obscene dancers of moving kidneys, as songs burning with sexual aches, alarm bells in the stomach of emptiness, today constitute our revolution. For Ada Bessomo, Obili, a residential area in Yaounde, capital of Cameroon, is the epitome of bitterness itself. How does one, in such a context, reconcile self esteem, a recollection of better days and love for a country that flexes its muscles against your breath, almost as if to test your patience, to suffocate its very future?
