I remember having read a story, rather an article in one of the local Newspapers way back in 2013, which predicted that Cameroon may soon be given the disgraceful crown of being a country with the highest number of consumers of alcohol. And this means, the highest number of drunkards.

This reminds me of an experience in Jos, Nigeria in 1978. I had just graduated from the Nigerian Institute of Journalism in Lagos, and picked up a job with the Nigeria Standard Group of Newspapers and Magazines, as a features writer. Jos is an extremely cold town situated on a high table land called plateau state.

I was lodged at Ambassador Hotel at Tafawa Balewa Street pending when a house will be allocated to me as was the case with most staff of the company. My first night in Jos was an experience of its own. I could hardly stand the cold.

Then I remembered what a friend of mine back home in Cameroon had told me about hot drinks and cold weather. He got his experience from London where he studied printing technology.

He said when the weather is excessively cold, I should take a shot each of every spirit that is whisky, gin, brandy, and you name it. Mix them in one tall class and then close it up with lime syrup. The effect in you is that it warms you up against the cold. Instead of getting you drunk, you feel the heat.

When I began feeling lonely and cold in my hotel room, I decided to go down to the bar on the ground floor. I went straight to the counter, mounted on a tall stool usually by the counter and ordered a mixture of five different hot drinks and rounded the chemistry with lime syrup.

I drew in a hard breath and inhaled the cold, then took a taste of the stuff. It tasted fine. Then with another taste I cut down the contents of the glass by half. When I took another long sip, the glass was empty.

I noticed the barman was eying me with suspicion. When I pushed my glass over to him to fill another round, he politely took leave of me saying I should wait and that some customer was calling him urgently upstairs.

Without any thought in my mind, I believed him and waited patiently. I was surprised that when he came back, he was accompanied by his white Boss, a middle-aged man, whom I later understood was Scottish.

He drew a tall stool and sat beside me he looked bewildered. He did not seem to know where to start.

“Are you alright?” he finally asked me. “Oh yes, but why”? I also asked. His barman had told him that there was a stranger at the bar who he strongly believed I wanted to commit suicide through drinks. That I had taken one tall glass of assorted spirits which I gulped in one sip and I was asking for another. It was here I understood their bewilderment at my drinking style.

I took my time to explain to him the effect of this mixture and that it meant no harm. I even ordered around for him.

Then he finally asked me where I come from. When I told him I came from Cameroon. His reply was somehow a disgrace to me.

“From Cameroon, no doubt”. Thereafter, we became good friends. He told me he has come in contact with many Cameroonians and drinking seems to them a way of life.

So when I heard that Cameroonians consume 620 million hectolitres of beer in one year, it is not strange to me. I know the price rise will not be a deterrent.

It is our way of life and the government knows it. So the government can conveniently make good money from taxes on drinks and then turn-around to say it is a way of making Cameroonians drink less. Lie.