Something extraordinary happened this weekend in Cameroon that has everyone talking. Maurice Kamto, the man who dared to challenge Africa’s second-oldest president, has been mysteriously barred from the upcoming presidential race. What’s more shocking? Nobody’s explaining why.
Picture this: you’re watching a boxing match where the strongest challenger gets disqualified before even entering the ring, while the 92-year-old champion gets to fight a bunch of sparring partners. That’s essentially what’s happening in Cameroon right now, and frankly, it’s gotten people really worried about what comes next.
The chief of the electoral commission, ELECAM, announced the decision in a news conference on Saturday when he read out a list of 13 approved candidates, which did not include Kamto. No reasons were given for the exclusion. This silence speaks volumes, particularly when you consider that among the 83 people who submitted their file to join the race, only 13 have been retained.
Here’s where things get really interesting. Paul Biya isn’t just any president – he has been serving as the second president of Cameroon since 1982, making him the world’s oldest head of state at 92 years old. Meanwhile, he has held an iron grip on the Central African nation for nearly 43 years and is now launching a reelection bid that could literally keep him in power until he’s nearly 100.
But Maurice Kamto represents something entirely different. This isn’t just another politician trying to grab power. He’s a respected law professor who actually challenged the 2018 election results and paid dearly for it. Opposition candidate, Maurice Kamto, and over 200 of his supporters were arrested for protesting the controversial 2018 presidential polls. While Kamto was released after 10 months, 41 of his supporters remain behind bars. That takes real courage, especially in a country where dissent often comes with serious consequences.
What makes this whole situation even more troubling is how the system has been rigged over the years. Biya scrapped term limits in 2008, clearing the way for him to run indefinitely. Think about that for a moment – imagine if your country’s leader simply changed the rules so they could stay in power forever. That’s not democracy; that’s something else entirely.
The approved candidates tell their own story too. Most of them have direct connections to Biya’s ruling party, the RDPC. It’s like having a restaurant where all the menu options are basically the same dish with different names. Voters get the illusion of choice without any real alternatives. Meanwhile, Biya and the RDPC have maintained their stranglehold over Cameroonian politics via their control over all government institutions, including the electoral commission and judiciary.
What’s particularly worrying is how Cameroonians are reacting to this news. Youths protest in Douala following the announcement, and his rejection has since its disclosure caused an uproar on social media. When you exclude the one person who genuinely represents change, you’re essentially telling millions of people that their voices don’t matter.
The timing couldn’t be worse either. Cameroon is already dealing with serious challenges – ongoing conflicts in English-speaking regions, economic struggles, and a population increasingly frustrated with decades of authoritarian rule. Adding electoral manipulation to this volatile mix is like pouring gasoline on a fire.
International observers aren’t staying quiet about this either. Independent observers have viewed this as a series of fraudulent elections, leading opposition parties to boycott the 2020 legislative and municipal elections. When your elections become so questionable that people stop participating altogether, you’ve crossed a dangerous line.
The broader implications extend far beyond Cameroon’s borders. Africa has been making significant strides toward democratic governance, but situations like this remind us how fragile progress can be. When a 92-year-old leader manipulates the system to ensure his eighth term while barring his strongest challenger, it sends a chilling message to democrats across the continent.
Moreover, this Maurice Kamto barred Cameroon election controversy highlights a pattern we’ve seen in too many African countries. Leaders who came to power promising change gradually transform into the very dictators they once opposed. They modify constitutions, control electoral bodies, and systematically eliminate genuine opposition. It’s a playbook that’s been used repeatedly, and unfortunately, it often works.
The human cost of this electoral engineering cannot be overlooked. Ordinary Cameroonians watching their democratic hopes crushed may turn to more extreme measures. Cameroon’s electoral commission has rejected the candidacy of Maurice Kamto, the main rival to President Paul Biya, in an upcoming presidential election, raising the risks of protests. History shows us that when peaceful democratic channels are blocked, people sometimes pursue other options.
For Kamto himself, this exclusion represents years of work and sacrifice seemingly going up in smoke. Kamto, who has two days to appeal, was considered the primary threat to Biya’s continued rule. His legal background and international recognition made him uniquely positioned to challenge the system from within. Now, with his path to power legally blocked, the question becomes whether he’ll accept this verdict or fight back through other means.
The international community also faces difficult choices. Diplomatic pressure might help, but realistically, Biya has weathered international criticism for decades. Economic sanctions could hurt ordinary Cameroonians more than the ruling elite. Nevertheless, staying silent while democracy gets dismantled piece by piece isn’t really an option either.
Looking ahead, this election will likely proceed with Biya facing weakened opposition candidates who pose little real threat to his power. Should he win the election, which appears likely in the absence of an opposition coalition, Cameroon will continue down a path that leads further away from democratic governance and closer to outright authoritarianism.
The tragedy here isn’t just about one excluded candidate or even one compromised election. It’s about a entire generation of Cameroonians who have never experienced genuine democratic change. They’ve watched the same man rule their country for their entire lives, promising improvements that never quite materialize while systematically crushing anyone who might offer an alternative vision.
Ultimately, the Maurice Kamto barred Cameroon election story serves as a stark reminder that democracy requires constant vigilance. It can be eroded gradually through legal maneuvers and bureaucratic manipulation just as effectively as through military coups. When electoral commissions become tools of incumbent protection rather than fair arbiters, when constitutions get modified to serve individual ambitions rather than national interests, democracy dies not with dramatic fanfare but through a thousand small cuts.
The coming weeks will reveal whether this latest assault on democratic norms will spark the kind of sustained resistance needed to restore genuine political competition in Cameroon. However, one thing seems certain: excluding Maurice Kamto from this race hasn’t eliminated the desire for change – it has simply forced that desire to find other outlets. The question now is whether those outlets will remain peaceful or whether Cameroon will join the growing list of African nations where frustrated democratic aspirations have turned violent.
