Mr. Tabe Paul Menge, alias Blondo, was born in Buea, Cameroon to the late Papa Emmanuel Bruno Tabe, at the time a Nurse at the Buea General Hospital, and Mama Regina Fausta Mayong Tabe née Menge. Following our dad’s various transfers, he attended St. Anthony’s Primary School, Mamfe; Holy Family School, New Town, Victoria; and Government School Egbekaw, Mamfe.

Paul was a pioneer student in the then Union Comprehensive College, Bachuo for two years, before transferring to St. Joseph’s College, Sasse in Buea, where I had just begun my broadcasting career. He wrote both the Cameroon and London GCE's, and got admission into the University of Calabar Nigeria, thanks to his London GCE results. In Calabar, he studied Local Government, with a focus on Urban and Regional Planning, a specialization that later gained him employment with Cameroon’s Local Councils Fund, FEICOM, where he rose to the rank of Regional Delegate.

The road to FEICOM though, was not a straight-forward one. For a while, he worked for the Census Bureau and did some journalism practice along the way. Surprised? Paul returned from Nigeria in the heat of multi-partysm in Cameroon. An undeniably down-to-earth person, he quickly identified with ordinary Cameroonians who were clamoring for political change. Each time he attended a political event and watched the TV news, he would question what his journalist sister and her colleagues were getting paid for. “Where do you get your news? Are you sure you speak for Cameroonians?” Then he began writing stories of events as he saw them and sought to publish them in private newspapers. He bluntly dubbed government journalists “QUACKS”.

Blondo’s never-ending quest for knowledge took him to IRIC and to the highly competitive and highly valued Economic Policy Management Programme (known in French as Gestion de Politiques Economiques – GPE), a World Bank-sponsored programme at the University of Yaounde II. His dynamism and extremely hard-working nature propelled him to complete the programme in record time and to earn a Master’s Degree.

But the greatest transition of all in Blondo’s life occurred on August 12, 2013. A really DARK Monday, trust me on that one. Blondo died instantly after he was knocked down by a motorcycle! As early as age 20, Blondo had begun driving cars, often taking our dad to Nigeria for shopping. Papa, who was British educated, did not understand French and so was unable to read and determine whether the “Dejeune Lactees, Matinal, Guigoz, etc” that had flooded the markets had the right composition for his kids. Solution then, go next door to Nigeria and buy the Ovaltines, Horlicks, Bird’s Custard, etc, that he knew.  Blondo, a willing and ready driver, just made it easy for Papa. Over the years, he drove personal and service cars. It is such an irony that someone who was on the wheel for almost thirty years was caused to disappear by a motorcycle he was not even riding!

Blondo dear, I write this only with an unusual strength that came from your departure – the realization of what your life really meant, the numerous lessons to be learned from your selflessness, your sharing spirit, your fun and laughter, your philosophy that life is TODAY, right here and right now. You always made me feel like you inspired the author of the verse:

“Lord for tomorrow and its needs,                                                           
I do not pray;                                                                                                     

Keep me my Lord from stain of sin,                                                                    
Just for to-day."

Yes, that was your life – just the worries of here and now, and the next day will be fine too.

Ah, I keep referring to Blondo, but I really mean Menge, as we called him at home. So where did Blondo come from? None of his siblings can remember! I even recall dad once handing him his mail that came through the Mamfe hospital address and asking “Blondo is what??” Answer: A long burst of laughter on our large veranda as we sat with visiting friends. Then the name even became contagious, with one of his siblings, Julius, just embracing the appellation “Petit Blondo”. And his siblings can’t count how many times we’ve been asked if Blondo was our brother. That was Menge – he starts something and it goes viral. I hope someone comes up with an explanation of how this became a Tabe “sub-name.” Thank you all.

Blondo was preceded in death by his father and younger brother (Emmanuel Jr). You go, dear brother; we pray they welcome and guide you to the bosom of the Heavenly Father. As a kid, my dream was to become a nurse, in high admiration for the female nurses in their white aprons and caps. Papa’s reaction: “No my daughter, not a nurse. Any of my children who chooses the medical field must either be a Doctor or Nursing Sister. I cannot educate you to take orders like I did. You must be in a position to give orders – that should be very clear.” Do you think it ended there? One summer holidays in Mamfe, Papa invited me and Moses to the operating theater in efforts to encourage us to become medics. Moses, who had the courage to watch an operation thereafter did not eat meat for I don’t know how long. As for me, I did not even muster the courage to put on the medical breathing mask from the moment I could no longer recognize my own father and brother in their masks. 

So Blondo, please, it's time now for you to share with Papa that his son, Julius (the one kid who was most scared of “dead people”), and his first grandchild (and “wife”) Mayong, are in senior ranks in the Healthcare field as he had so wished--that his descendants rise above his rank in a profession he so dearly cherished. Blondo, let Papa know that Ekieta, his ‘big, big Moyo” has already given him a great grandson. And if Emmanu ever felt lonely, that will be no more – you two can play some “young-boy” tricks on Papa, invite Michael Jackson to dance to his “Thriller” that always fascinated Papa – hmm, “family fun time”, eh?  As for Mama and the rest of us, we will see you, we will touch you, we will even say goodbye, but like those gone before you, you will FOREVER remain with us.

F-O-R-E-V-E-R, Blondo!

Love Always!