Prof. Martin Zachary Njeuma

Dear Aunty Limunga,Embelle and Christine...Our prayers and thoughts are with you on this anniversary of the transition of Uncle Zac(husband,father,patriarch) .Gone too soon. Not sure about that ! Dear uncle,you touched our lives in innumerable ways. Your life,memories and legacy,will always be cherished. Life isn't measured by the length of time spent here on earth,but by its  depth and quality. May your gentle soul RIP.   May God's Grace be sufficient as you navigate one day at a time.May His Love,compassion and peace continue to be your strength,anchor,guide and shield.

Grand Uncle as we keep on remembering the legacy you left on this earth,i pray that the Almighty God will give you rest and you will be counted amongst those to benefit from the imcomparable power of resurrection.I still remember your passing on to glory as a thing of yesterday.
          You taught me what is required of a man to gain respect from others.Your humility,gentleness and your willingness to give even when you had nothing was also unique.Rest in peace the great historian of our time.

How time flies and how time almost feels like it hasn't moved. on your 4th anniversary of resting with the Lord, we continue to give God thanks for giving you to us and how you were able to steer the enlarged Njeuma family in togetherness and unity. We continue to celebrate your life in our own individual and unique ways and pray that you continue to rest in the bosom of our Lord and Saviour. May your soul continue to rest in perfect peace.

Embelle.

Remembering Zacharia Moundinde Martin Njeuma One Day, popularly called “Prof”.  Father, husband, uncle, brother, grandfather, Cameroon’s pioneer PhD historian, writer, author, lecturer, consultant, entrepreneur, philanthropist, the list goes on and on.

It’s been a year (April 28, 2010) since you were called on to eternity. To us mere mortals, you are physically absent, but in Christian ideology, to be physically absent in the body is to be present with the Lord. Your passing date was your new birthday into eternity. The day before you passed on, I felt a “presence” in my room and minutes before I got the call from my mother, I felt that same “presence”.  It was tangible. I now know that you stopped by to say bye-bye.

 Remembering you one year on, I am filled with mixed emotions, sadness, laughter, some more sadness, some more laughter. Sadness because you left a void that cannot be filled, and laughter remembering the funny things you did and said. As far back as a child can remember, I remember the structure you tried to instill in our lives. The mandatory sleeping period (siesta), the tennis clubs, watching the sound of music, watching ROOTS over a series of 8-10 weeks during lunch on projectors, (way before TV got to Cameroon), the bakweri parties, entertainments with the SOBAN Rotary Class, and the list goes on.   I remember the family trips we took, I remember the not so good times too, it's part of life, and as time progressed and I grew mature, I knew that no one goes to parenting school and just as Christ forgave and gave us liberty and freedom in the sacrament of Salvation, so should that Salvation be shared and utilized by all. That was my mantra for travelling to Cameroon in February 2010! To let you know that as your child, I loved you and only wished the best, wanting you to live the rest of your life, free from worry, fear and regret, to enjoy God’s salvation and reap the fruits from years of hardwork! Basically, that you should relax!  We were all looking forward to our trip to Egypt to celebrate your 70^th birthday, but man proposes and God disposes, you fell ill and never quite recovered.  

You were more than uncle to your nieces, nephews, friends, in-laws  and neighbors. You were Papa, and the deep void you have left cannot be filled. I remember when we were children and you would ask us to punch your belly. We would punch with all our might, and you’ll say harder!! Until we got tired and our fists hurting…lol. You were tall, strong and big! You were like a giant. I remember when you took us to boarding school in Bamenda and the road trips with our American friends. I remember when you visited me in France in 1995 and in Ecuador in 2005, and how much fun and fear we had going up the car lifts to the mountain tops in Quito, Ecuador. I remember your trip to South Africa in 2007, how you felt proud standing on Nelson’s Mandela’s house-turned museum. You got to the pinnacle of your career, a peak where only few attain and you were an expert in your field and you played your role on earth exceedingly well, wearing so many caps.

 In this one year, I have sought to find out the meanings of the words you used so often. One of them is “Bismillah” (you pronounced Bisibilah) which means In the name of Allah. Used to start something, whatever a Muslim wants to start (driving, eating, walking, reading …they’ll first say Bismillah).

Another one was Subhanallah (you pronounced Su-khu-banalai..lol) which means Glory to Allah, can be used in many places, for example if you heard something amazing and you want to express your amazement. It has been a year of thinking, of retrospect, a year of recollecting memories of you.

 
Though we are physically separated from you, we miss and mourn you and you continue to live in our hearts. Your light stays ignited in our hearts and shines ever so brightly!

 
On behalf of your family, your wife, daughters, sisters, nieces, nephews, friends, neighbors, in-laws, students and all you knew you as a father, we thank you for being Papa! Zac! Igwe! Bro! Old boy! Prof!...the list goes on..We salute you for playing such major roles in our lives. We thank God that He gave you to us for 70+ years and we celebrate your life and your legacy.

 
May your soul rest in perfect peace.

 
Your Embi (your preferred spelling of my name). 
 

 

 

FOND MEMORIES

 

Starting as young, bright students, who had the fortune of attending the best secondary schools and universities of our time at home and abroad, we had great expectations for our union. We supported each other, enjoying not only our studies, but also sports and indoor games such as lawn tennis, squash, table tennis, scrabble and monopoly, in which we competed keenly against each other in a spirit of fair camaraderie. Our lawn tennis matches at Mecklenburg Square in Central London won us the admiration of all and sundry. You did not mind that I was sometimes the better player at these sports and games. You encouraged me in all my endeavours and you were proud that your spouse, your Limunga, would become the first female Cameroonian with a Ph.D.

Our performances were so unique at the time that the phenomenon of “Monsieur docteur, Madame docteur et peut être les enfants docteurs” created sensation in the Cameroonian community as we started our careers as young lecturers at the University of Yaounde. Then God blessed us with two admirable daughters who would also break records – a woman civil engineer cum telecommunications engineer cum business manager and the first Cameroonian female commercial pilot cum lawn tennis champion. Our ambitions were not only for ourselves and our direct children, but also for our siblings, nephews, nieces and others who showed promise and whose levels of livelihood we made significant inputs to raise. The Good Lord also made it possible for us to be called upon to make our contributions to the development of Cameroon and Africa in outstanding and selfless ways through the challenging positions of high responsibility to which we were called to serve. You became an outstanding academic, respected nationally and internationally, and you were at your best when you were travelling around the world to participate in commissions and conferences or to teach, and to do research in history.

Now you have become history, all too soon, and in the height of the festivities marking the 50^th anniversary of the independence and reunification of Cameroon in which you were expected to play a determining role. May the merciful Lord grant you peace and rest in His heavenly kingdom, where there is no more sickness, no more pain.

Your Limunga.