Mailing address, soccer, and life in N'gaoundéré.

Since 2004, N’Gaoundéré has grown immensely. There are now 3-story buildings, and the urban sprawl is shocking. A couple days ago I was walking down a main street (no one knows the name of the street) when I saw a white-man store. This is what expats call a store that has mostly set prices, chocolate, sometimes refrigerated goods and cookware. I browsed the store to see what it has to offer. Last week I searched everywhere in the market for cotton balls and could not find any. I finally saw something that looked like big cotton squares and thought, well that will work. What I realized in the white-man store is that I have been ripping up Cameroonian maxi-pads and using them as cotton balls for my face. It’s really the same product and not that strange, but I couldn’t help but freeze in the store and burst into laughter.

Last time I wrote about Mariamou and her sewing machine. At that moment I did not realize that she actually has a sewing business. Because this weekend is the fete de Ramadan, everyone (including me) is having clothes made. She has made no less that 15 outfits for this party. Women drop off fabric for her as if her days last much longer than 24 hours. She has given up on sleeping. She wakes at 3am to prepare a meal for at least 11 people to be eaten at 4am before the sunrise. She goes back to sleep at 4:30 to wake up at 6 to get the children ready for school. When they leave (around 7) she begins to sew. She sews and cuts fabric until 1pm when school ends and she prepares lunch for the kids. She continues to sew until 4 or 5 when she starts to prepare dinner (she’ll have prepared sauces that simmer all day). We eat dinner when the sunsets around 6:15. Then we hang out until 8, when typically she’ll say I shouldn’t work tonight, but will pull out her machine and work until midnight. She has 4 outfits left to make before Friday and the homestretch is looking good.

What surprised me is the cost of labor and supplies verses monetary profit. She makes quality clothes with buttons, choice thread and backing. She purchases the extra products herself. Prices vary according to the complication of the outfit; however, a typical charge is 2,000 FCFA ($4). When she is finished, after the supplies costs, she makes about 700 FCFA profit ($1.40).

What I have come to realize is that saving money in Cameroon is extremely difficult. Imagine if everyone in the US either had a minimum wage job, or no job at all, and the price of goods remained what it is today. Trying to save money would be extremely difficult. With your earnings you support yourself and your immediate family, as well as your extended family. By the time you have fed, clothed, and housed everyone, you may have extra money for health and school fees. What’s difficult about Cameroon is that goods are not cheap in accordance to how people are paid. For example, let’s say Mariamou makes $1.50 from each dress she makes. If she makes 10 dresses a week, she’ll make $15. Below I have written out expenses for one day at the market to feed her family and extended family that eat here daily.

1-kilo meat- 1500 FCFA ($3)
Oil- 500 FCFA ($1)
Maggi spice cubes – 100 FCFA ($0.20)
Onion- 100 FCFA ($0.20)
6 Tomatoes- 200 FCFA ($0.40)
Garlic- 100 FCFA ($0.20)
Beans/legumes- 300 FCFA ($0.60)
5 kilos Cous Cous/manioc mix- 600 FCFA ($1.20)
Plantains- 1000 FCFA ($2) (not at every meal, x2 a week)
Bread- 500 FCFA ($1)
2 packages of Spaghetti- 500 FCFA ($2)
(I have left out sugar, tea, and chocolate which are luxury goods we have a couple days a week)

Total- 5400 FCFA ($10.80)

Keep in mind that is one full day of food for 10-15 people and includes meat and plantains. On Mariamou’s salary alone, it would be impossible for a family of this size to survive. She would most likely only pay for her children. What I want you to understand is the discrepancy between the money made and the cost of goods here. Internet is $1 an hour, 1 liter of petrol is $1.30, and rent for a secure two-bedroom home with a living room, pseudo kitchen, and bathroom is $60 a month (that does not include the water or electric bill). Finding and keeping a decent paying job is rare. Having a government job often comes with a secured salary because of corruption, whether you are qualified or not. (This does not include educational jobs, as teachers are often not paid.)

The idea of taking the next step and starting a bank account or taking out a loan is scary for a woman like Mariamou. Would you trust someone with your money if you couldn’t read? Furthermore, the written language isn’t your native patois? What if she doesn’t have any business next week? Or if one of her kids is sick and needs medical attention? That’s just an example of the cycle of poverty in Cameroon.

Fortunately for the extended family, Mariamou and Ishmaila both earn income. Last week, however, when the motor to Mariamou’s sewing machine broke at 8pm and she asked me for a $10 loan because they didn’t have it that night, I was happy to have a role in the family income structure. I don’t pay room and board because I’m considered family, but I can help with sewing emergencies. After a night mission to find an open boutique, I told her the motor was a gift, not a loan, and the adventure alone was worth the motor’s price to me.

On a different note, I have a Post Office Box! If you want to send something to me, please send it to:

Sarah Oxford
BP 657 N’Gaoundéré
Cameroon, Africa

(Please note that mail delivery is unreliable. Your letter or package may take several weeks, a month, several months or longer to arrive, and it may not arrive at all. Please take this into consideration when sending anything of value.)

Obtaining this P.O. box took four hours, visits to three different government buildings, and five trips between the three buildings, but I successfully have a box for as long as I want it (as long as I pay $20 a year). I filled out many forms and on each crossed out the M. for Monsieur and wrote in Mademoiselle.

When I do professional business oriented activities I can’t help but imagine that I’m a female revolutionary paving the way. That’s at least what I try to imagine when I want to scream at someone, but know the yelling won’t aide my situation.

I have started the process of creating a girls’ soccer club. I arranged a meeting with the delegate of sports hoping to discuss the best way to forge the way. I arrived at his office at 8:30 yesterday morning and waited for 30 minutes. He arrived at 9 and led me into his huge office with couches and a table. I had underestimated the level of his position (I forget when your American your often automatically directed to the most important person) and his interest in my program. Within ten minutes of the meeting starting, I was sitting with 10 men. The delegate of youth, head of basketball and team sports, head of Pedagogical studies, head of Physical Education, and the list goes on. I explained that I work for an NGO and have a background in soccer. I am here to teach business practices to women with the goal of raising their standard of living. I told them that I believe sports are an integral part of leadership and teamwork practices, plus they are fun. I want a girls soccer program. I said it …pause… pause… They were thrilled.

For over three hours we discussed how to organize the program. Today I am to write out the rules of the program. What amuses me is that I sat with 10 men all paid by the government and they all stated over and over again, we will not call it a league because then the government will ask for money. What I stated was that I am not paying anyone, but for the test program (over the next two months) I will divide the soccer balls I brought and if the program is successful I will return in January with uniforms. There is a radio announcement being made for a coaches meeting for next Monday at 10am. I am observing a team practice at 3:30pm that afternoon. We know there are 8 groups that meet and play with each other (10-20) girls. I am hoping to have 4-6 coaches dedicated to the trial program. Their teams practice once a week, and then I organize the Saturday matches between the teams. I’m the official organizer and the coaches are volunteers. We decided that the girls who play will be between 12-18. At first I wanted to do Saturday clinics with younger girls, but I realized that younger girls are not afraid to play. They play at school. The older girls have nowhere to play. Plus, if the younger girls see the older girls playing it will make them excited to play when they get older. I am hopeful and determined to make this work. Over and over again, the men said, this is hard in N’Gaoundéré. I asked—If we don’t try, what would happen?

Looking through my finances the other day I realized I had not drank a beer in 18 days. Honestly, in this world, I don’t think that’s healthy☺. Today, maybe after I tone my face using a maxi-pad I will go back into the world of men and drink a beer.