It is my grandfather, The Fon of Fontem who famously asked whether the many guards he saw at the Prime Minister’s Lodge in Buea were guarding against death. He quipped that when death would come, it would pass all the guards by, without their noticing its passage.

We would later learn in Sasse how that type of thought pattern helped Ralph Ellison to create the character of the “invisible Black American” in his “Invisible Man,” or of the mystery man, Wilkins the postman in “The Invisible Man” of GK Chesterton, or  the science fiction scientist Griffin, in the “The Invisible Man” of HG Wells.

We were learning about “Invisible Man” and “The Invisible Man” in English literature while Mr. Martin Amin Efuetngu (as he was then known) was trying to get our youthful, curious minds to understand the subject. “Mathematics”. The sixty-some of us young boys that got into Sasse College in September 1964 were told that our young, enthusiastic and apparently all-knowing

Mathematics teacher had just graduated from Sasse the previous year, and was retained by the Principal, Rev. Father Cunningham to teach Mathematics.

Our new books provided by the College included one on Mathematics. One of his first acts was to ask us to tear off the “answers” section that was at the end of the book! We did so reluctantly, but before long, we realized that it was the best way of forcing us to actually think over the several Mathematics problems he gave us to solve in class or as homework. His teaching approach which was very interactive made Mathematics a darling subjects to many of us.

Mr. Amin would later leave us in Sasse and go abroad to  further his education – in Mathematics. When he returned, I and a few others (Joseph Ndem Atem, Joseph Asonganyi, and others), still Sasse Boys, used to visit him, a SOBAN, in Kumba where he was either holidaying or living. At each visit, he would give us rounds and rounds of Mathematics problems to cross-check the answers. It is later that I realized that he was preparing an “answers” section for the Mathematics book(s) that would later create the brand name “Amin” in the Mathematics milieu of the teaching cycles in Cameroon.

He later continued his education in Canada, where he wrapped it up with a PhD in Mathematics. He returned to Cameroon and got employment with the then lone University of Yaounde, where he rose to the rank of Professor of Mathematics.

He had a great passion for teaching. Indeed, he saw teaching as a mission or a vocation, unlike many who see it as a part time job they take on, in addition to a main interest. He was like a missionary with a mission, unlike many who seem to be dubious about their mission or who see teaching as a substitute for the real thing. He was one of those for whom teaching is a serious business; who saw teaching as an avenue for thinking and transmitting knowledge. And so the “Amin” brand name we just talked about!

He was a man of the past and present, and knew early when value started being increased not by labour, but by knowledge. So he easily navigated from the old teaching approach, to providing his pupils with the ability to think, work, and embrace technology. “CITEC”, the Technology school he opened and managed, was the metaphor for this shift. The school provided knowledge, information and expertise to adults and the youth alike. He vulgarized the mantra that knowledge is not diminished when it is shared!

His regular end of year graduation ceremonies, one of which he had just organized before his demise, was his effort to marry the new type of knowledge paradigm he was promoting, with the social and emotional skills that would help his graduates to collaborate with others – the soft skills not imparted by most institutions in Cameroon today. It is usually said that each person’s private activity converges in the common good; I have no doubt that his vision was centred on this.

The fear of death usually leads some humans to think and behave irrationally. He had no time for that because, as usual, death came stealthily on December 20, 2015, and off it went with him, at a most unexpected moment, and at a most unexpected place! As fate would  have it, he died just after attending the obsequies of one of the young students – Edward Fobellah – who was in the September 1964 Class that he taught Mathematics to.

If nobody will praise me, I will praise myself, said the lizard that fell from a tall iroko tree.  And who will praise the iroko tree that falls itself? Of course, all the animals and birds that were perching on it! Professor Nkem-Amin was an iroko tree!

As he is lowered to his eternal resting place over this weekend in his native Lebialem, he will be praised by all. He will be praised by adults, children and students at all levels in Cameroon and abroad, that he helped and whose respect he earned; he will be praised by SOBANs, especially the Yaounde chapter that will miss his regular presence at meetings; he will be praised by the so many development associations to which he provided leadership and inspiration. He will be praised by his wife and children; by his family and friends.

Prof., Go well!

Your student,