Home.

You know that feeling when you have a new boyfriend/girlfriend and you walk into their room and your picture is displayed on the wall or corkboard visibly for all to see? Suddenly you realize that the relationship is going somewhere. They want to be reminded of you when you are not around. You are done wondering how they feel about you. Usually this makes you really happy and boosts your confidence.

I did not tell Mariamou that I was in town, just that I was “coming.” With Cameroonian transportation, this could mean today or in two weeks. I decided I would surprise her. I knocked on the door and walked into the entryway of the house. I heard the 2 year old, Souriya, yell, “mama, there is a white person here.” Arms flew and I was tackled. Tears ran and screams of happiness echoed. For the next two hours I was reintroduced to the quartier as her best friend. I had forgotten how many people I actually knew and loved. Ishmaila, her husband, has 29 siblings (His father has 4 wives). Family members in town came to visit one after the other with their children and friends. Kids that I once played with have transformed into teenagers, babies into children. Over the past 3 years things have changed, but I have not been forgotten.


I walked into the living room to see six pictures framed on the wall. My picture is the largest one in the center. My confidence automatically boosted and I realized that they missed me as much as I missed them. The relationship is mutual and I am done wondering.

For the next three days I stuck by Mariamou’s side. She rarely leaves the house. In this culture, when you are married you clean, cook, and take care of the children. You only leave the house when your husband gives you permission (small trips around the quartier are OK). The strange thing is that I can sit and stare at the wall and things actually happen. Gossip flies, people visit, clothes are made, and I learn. It’s rarely boring, as you would expect.

My second day here Mariamou asked me if I wanted to go to a meeting with her. I agreed and walked into a living room where about 20 women sat. Only two spoke French and they all stared at me. Over the next hour I learned that these women have formed a tantine. Every Saturday morning 24 women meet and give one dollar (500 FCFA). One member leaves with $25 that she can use however she pleases. The order for taking the money rotates. They also give roughly 40 cents (200CFA) to be put into a bank account that will not be accessed for one year. If someone is sick, they give another dollar for hospital expenses. I was thrilled to say the least. Not only are they starting businesses and money saving practices, but also they invited me to be a part of it and are interested in my ideas! I am officially the 25th and final member of the Circle of Muslim Women- Quartier Tongo-Pastoral Tantine (They do not care that I’m not Muslim and are really proud to have a white member).

Over the past three years I have sent Mariamou a small amount of money for Christmas. I told her it was none of my business what she did with the money, but of course I was extremely curious. Time and time again she impresses me. It amazes me how different we are and yet how well we get along. She is 25, I am 24. She has 3 children and has been married since she was 15. I am in and out of relationships all the time. She prepares every meal for 15 people. I barely cook for myself. She cannot read nor write. I read a book a week for pleasure and am always studying something on the side. Neither one of us really speak French well. Her first language is Fulfulde, mine English. She does not play sports. I spend a lot of my free time doing athletic activities. Yet somehow when we are together we have some of the most engaging and interesting conversations that I have ever had. Our cultural exchange and mutual respect to learn from each other is inexplicable. She’s brilliant. She can watch someone cook a complex dish of food and go home and make the dish. She will improve its taste without ever writing anything down. She’ll make it for at least 15 people. What I learned is that with the money I sent she bought a sewing machine. She loves couture and clothing. She told me that she wanted to learn to sew long ago, but I put it off as a pipe dream. Now she has an electric Singer. A young, unmarried seamstress comes into her home a couple days a week to make clothes. The seamstress sells the clothes she makes and teaches Mariamou how to sew. Mariamou doesn’t just sew simple things; she makes complex shirts and dresses. She now makes all of her children’s clothes and probably will make mine, too.


Her husband Ishmaila is a winner as well. Literally. He seams to win everything. He is a great bike rider and when he was younger he entered a bike race and won $50. One of the richest men in Cameroon said he liked how hard working he is and doubled his winnings. With $100 he moved from his village to N’Gaoundéré where he opened a small shop selling powdered milk, sugar, flour, and other items for cooking. Over time his boutique has grown and he has made enough money to support his family and Mariamou. He now has purchased his home, two televisions, a Toyota, and can pay for medical expenses. A couple weeks ago he entered a question and answer contest with Nido (the company that makes powdered milk). He won a refrigerator! Mariamou now has a refrigerator that sits in the living room next to the TV. She buys powdered juice mix, mixes it with water and sells it both as juice and popsicles to children in the quartier. Sometimes she’ll make up to 5 dollars a day! Her goal is to save enough with the juice business to buy another sewing machine and run a tailor shop. She told me that if her husband were to die, she would be left with little money. She wants to buy a small room and lease it out. If something happens she will have a place to live (the current house goes to her children). She also said that they have an agreement that they will have a monogamous relationship, but if he does change his mind (polygamy is accepted here, and often encouraged for wealthy men and chiefs) she will leave and live in her room. Again, she is brilliant.

My life outside my home is developing as well. Taguem and I are researching the classes I will teach at the Research Center. I will have two business classes, one for illiterate women and one for literate women. In addition, I will teach two English classes, one for beginners and one for advanced learners. There will be a 25-person cap on all classes. I have purchased a printer (to print out homework- over time this will save money) and two chalk boards. One is for classes at the Research Center and the other for classes in my Quartier. Things are progressing, but nothing will start until after Ramadan. I am going through the process of opening a bank account and a post office box.


I am starting to work out at 5 o’clock every evening. Abdu, one of Mariamou’s children, is now 8 and his cousin, Bopo, is 12. They come with me to the track to run and pass the soccer ball. I love that they come with me. Walking around a Muslim town in shorts and a t-shirt can be tough, but with the two boys I am protected from slurs and men hitting on me. They are being labeled my two husbands. I could not be happier that they run with me. When we come home we do pushups and sit-ups together. Then we shower and eat dinner, followed by homework time then some TV (usually the O.C.. or Super Man).

As you can read, my life is good. If anything gets me down, all I have to do is walk home to know that I am loved. Although I do not have a boyfriend right now, I have a Cameroonian family, and for now, that is what I need.