My mother was the backbone of our family, the quiet force that somehow held everything together. Her instincts were usually spot on, and her love was pure. Mum never suppressed her opinions to gain likability or favoritism. She spoke her mind and her truth whenever she had the chance. Never one to seek the spotlight, Mum was humble by nature. She was an honest person with a deep faith in God and tradition.
As the youngest child, I spent a lot of time with her. My earliest memories go back to when Mum started a carrot farm in Mbengwi with my older brother, Dr. Jinkeng Asong. Being the youngest, I got involved in all her ventures, often providing free labor. Mum then moved on to raising goats, which became my first part-time job after school—ensuring we could account for the goats and feed them. I found peace among these animals, becoming so skilled that I could predict the exact day a pregnant goat would give birth. Mum would often recount this story, laughing at my uncanny ability. Later, we ventured into pig farming and poultry. Mum even dabbled in making her own washing soap and yogurt. Nothing could stop her; she could do anything she set her mind to. She was a gifted and natural entrepreneur.
My first taste of entrepreneurship came when my dad was transferred from Mbengwi to Foncha Street in Bamenda for work. We had to sell most of the animals we had raised. I remember going to the market with my brother, selling everything. One particular goat was especially difficult for us to part with. The mother of this goat had died at birth, so we raised her like a baby, often feeding her milk and human food. To me, she felt like my little sister. It was a unique bond, as she was more like a human than a goat. Letting her go was heart-wrenching, and we often reminisced about that experience while huddled around Mum in the evenings, laughing and discussing life. That is who mum was – taking everything she did seriously and doing it with heart. Nothing was too small or too big. If it meant something to her or her family, she took it seriously.
When we moved to Bamenda, I was often the only child at home, as my siblings were in boarding schools. The first time I saw Mum cry wasn’t for a person, but for an animal—a pig named Korack. She was pregnant when she caught African swine fever, leaving her with just three days to live. With Dad and my siblings away, none of us could bring ourselves to kill Korack before the illness took her, and she died three days later. I returned from school to find Mum in tears, devastated by the cruelty of a pregnant animal hopelessly killed by disease. It has never been about money for her but passion for what she did. That moment has stayed with me, teaching me what it means to love someone—or something—with purity and no expectations. It also instilled in me a passion for everything I do. Pour your heart into it. That moment also taught me about self-reliance; just as no one was there to help Mum, you must be prepared to do as much as you can on your own.
Mum was an exceptional entrepreneur. Often without a business plan, she was strategic and creative in her endeavors. She understood early on that relying solely on a salary wasn’t enough; you must find alternative sources of income and always seek ways to reinvent yourself. She was simply unstoppable reinventing herself at every turn. In her later years when we had moved to the family compound in Mile 16, mum didn’t have to work but oh boy, not this woman. She unsurprisingly opened a shop at the family compound and partnered with my older sister to sell products from the USA.
After my dad’s transfer, we arrived in Buea in 1997. With extremely limited resources and no money, the only guaranteed food we had came from the eggs of old layer fowls we brought with us. We ate eggs every day until Mum and Dad could get settled. Mum was strategic, always thinking several steps ahead.
Eventually, we moved to a new house in Gaston Junction, Buea. Around the time I started at the University of Buea after high school, Mum began trading firewood. Who gave her that idea? How did she know it was the right business to start at that location? Only God knows. That business was timely and strategic, providing the cash we needed for transportation to the university, pocket money, and household expenses. It was even more crucial than the tuition we paid. It was Mum’s business instincts that cushioned us, enabling her and Dad to sponsor all five of us to the best boarding schools in Cameroon.
She didn’t speak much but managed her responsibilities as a mother and wife amidst many trials and tribulations.
Mum was a decision-maker and a go-getter. I remember when she was about 55 years old, deciding to travel to Yaounde, the capital city to take an exam that would improve her grade in the civil service, thus increasing her salary. I thought it was a joke considering her age. Nothing could stop her. Mum prepared, studied, took that exam, and passed. I couldn’t believe it. Who takes an exam at 55? Only my mother would do that. She was smart, and her work ethic was impeccable.
Mum never forgot her roots. Growing up farming, she used that skill and the knowledge she gained from her training to feed our family for almost 40 years. We had farms wherever we moved, growing most of what we ate. Mum taught us how to use our hands and brains to sustain ourselves. All of us have become skilled in animal husbandry and cash crop farming, thanks to her. She was an experienced agricultural farmer and a very proud one.
As a wife, I watched Mum care for my dad for as long as I can remember until she passed. She loved him and always considered him in everything she did. Like any couple, they faced trials in marriage, particularly with in-laws. But even in the toughest moments, she found light in her children and held onto our well-being as a reason to be resilient. Mum understood from the beginning that her children would be better off growing up in a home with both parents rather than a divided one. Because of that understanding, she endured; and endured.. and endured!. She was right, and I am forever grateful for her foresight, endurance, and sacrifices for us.
In her later years, when Mum became sick, she never gave up. After suffering a stroke on November 1, 2023, she still gave us two years and 41 days of beautiful memories and warmth. She fought until the end, allowing my siblings and me the greatest honor of caring for her until she passed on December 12, 2025.
My mother, thank you for loving me, my siblings, and my father unconditionally. I know you are in heaven with God, watching over all of us. Thank you for pouring everything into me, for teaching me humility and steadfastness in the face of hardship. Thank you for instilling in me the spirit of a go-getter and an entrepreneur. Thank you for loving my wife and always reminding me to take care of her and give her “chop money.” Thank you for allowing us to care for you during your final days on this earth. We love you dearly and will NEVER EVER FORGET YOU! Until we meet again, Mum, stay peaceful.