Il S’appelait Lapiro de Mbanga The Voice That Could Not Be Silenced
Dr.Tata Fon Emmanuel
Lapiro de Mbanga was not just a musician. He was a warrior, a patriot, a rebel with a cause. His songs were not mere melodies; they were weapons—crafted in rhythm, sharpened with truth, and aimed at the heart of a corrupt system that thrives on the suffering of its own people. He sang for Cameroon. He sang for justice. And for that, they tried to destroy him.
The Biya regime, like all oppressive systems, has always feared the truth. Truth is dangerous to those who rule with deception. The regime could not tolerate a man who exposed their greed, their betrayal, their neo-colonial agenda. They have built a government that exists not to serve, but to suppress, a system that crushes anyone who dares to dream of a liberated Cameroon.
They feared Lapiro because his words reached the market woman who toils under high taxes, the taxi driver beaten for refusing to bribe the police, the jobless youth trapped in a cycle of misery. He was their voice, their cry for justice. And so, the regime did what it does best—it silenced him.
But Lapiro de Mbanga was not the first, and he was not the last. How many journalists have been arrested for speaking the truth? How many writers and philosophers have been exiled for daring to question the status quo? How many political opponents have been imprisoned or killed simply for believing in a better future? How many more must suffer before Cameroon is free?
Instead of celebrating its thinkers, Cameroon buries them. Instead of protecting its truth-tellers, it tortures them. This is the mark of a cowardly government—a government so weak that it trembles at the voice of a musician, so insecure that it must imprison a journalist, so morally bankrupt that it must rule through force rather than legitimacy.
And yet, the worst betrayal does not come from the regime alone. No, the greatest betrayal comes from those who have chosen to kneel before this oppression, those who have sold their souls for crumbs.
There are those who should have fought for the truth, but instead, they joined the secret cults, the sex clubs, the cabals of corruption—offering their loyalty in exchange for money, power, and protection. They are the entertainers who now sing praises for the very system that silenced Lapiro. They are the intellectuals who have traded their wisdom for favors. They are the business elites who choose personal wealth over national prosperity.
They laugh in luxury while the people starve. They wine and dine while students protest for their future. They buy mansions abroad while hospitals in Cameroon collapse. These are the worst kind of traitors—not just to the people, but to history itself. They will be remembered not as leaders, but as parasites who fed on the suffering of their own brothers and sisters.
And then there are the agents of repression—those who carry out the regime’s evil with their own hands. The police officers who beat the innocent. The magistrates who send political prisoners to rot in jail. The journalists who spread lies to protect their masters. The government officials who sign away Cameroon’s resources to foreign powers while pretending to be patriots. They believe they are untouchable. But no oppressor has ever ruled forever. No lie has ever defeated the truth.
Lapiro de Mbanga may be gone, but his voice is immortal. Every song he sang, every word he wrote, every truth he spoke is still alive in the hearts of Cameroonians who refuse to be silenced.
To those who still stand for justice, let his legacy remind us that Cameroon will be free.
Rest in power, Lapiro de Mbanga. Your fight lives on.
Dr.Tata Fon Emmanuel
Il S’appelait Lapiro de Mbanga The Voice That Could Not Be Silenced
