Manyu from MECA to MECDA: a call for unity, continuity and respect for legacy

In the life of every community, history must be revisited, decisions must be understood and the future must be built on a foundation of unity rather than division. For the Manyu people of Cameroon, the question of whether our association should be known as the Manyu Elements Cultural Association (MECA) or the Manyu Elements Cultural and Development Association (MECDA) is more than a debate over four or five letters. It is a question about institutional identity, historical evolution, collective responsibility and the kind of legacy we intend to leave for generations yet unborn.

The time has come for our brothers and sisters in the Manyu diaspora, particularly across Europe and the United States, to reflect seriously on this matter and consider aligning their nomenclature with the evolution of the association back home in Cameroon.

The history of MECA, as recounted by those familiar with its origins, is inseparable from the vision of the late Benedict Tarh, a distinguished Manyu son from Kendem village who served as the first private secretary to the late Chief Emmanuel Tabi Egbe, Cameroon’s longest-serving Minister of Posts and Telecommunications.

Following his retirement from Yaoundé, the nation’s capital, Benedict Tarh settled in Buea, the chief city of the South West Region. It was there that he introduced and nurtured the MECA idea, which subsequently spread to Limbe, Tiko, Mutengene and other communities.

This was the seed from which a wider Manyu cultural movement grew. It was an initiative rooted in the desire to bring Manyu sons and daughters together, preserve their cultural heritage and strengthen the bonds that connect our people, irrespective of where they live.

In the early 1990s, Manyu political elites and community leaders recognised the need for a national structure capable of coordinating the activities of the association. Mamfe, the headquarters of Manyu Division, became the seat of its national leadership. That development marked an important stage in the institutional evolution of the association. What began as a community initiative was being organised into a broader structure with a national outlook and a central point of leadership.

The diaspora did not create MECA. It inherited an institution whose roots were firmly planted in Cameroonian soil. That historical connection deserves recognition, respect and serious consideration in every discussion about the association’s identity.

Approximately a decade after the establishment of the national structure, Manyu leaders decided to expand the association’s name to the Manyu Elements Cultural and Development Association (MECDA). The reasoning was straightforward: culture and development must go hand in hand.

Culture preserves our identity, language, traditions, values and collective memory. Development translates our unity into practical action through education, community infrastructure, social welfare, economic empowerment and other initiatives that improve the lives of our people.

What is culture without the material progress of the community it seeks to preserve? And what is development without the cultural identity, shared values and sense of belonging that give a people their character? The two are not enemies. They are partners.

The expanded name, MECDA, therefore expressed a broader institutional ambition: to preserve the cultural inheritance of the Manyu people while pursuing their social and economic advancement.

It was not necessarily a rejection of the original MECA vision. Rather, as understood by those who supported the change, it was an attempt to give that vision a wider developmental purpose.

The important question is this: if the association’s mandate has evolved to embrace both culture and development, should its public identity not reflect that evolution?

Across Europe and North America, many Manyu communities continue to identify their organisations by the original name, MECA. This persistence raises a legitimate question: why has the transition to MECDA not been embraced uniformly by the diaspora?

We must be careful not to assume that every individual or chapter has the same reason. Some may be attached to the original name because it is the identity under which their organisations were established. Others may regard MECA as a cherished inheritance from the founding generation. Still others may have questions about the process through which the change was adopted, the authority behind it, or the extent to which the national decision was communicated and implemented abroad. These concerns deserve a hearing. But attachment to history must not automatically become resistance to institutional evolution.

There is a difference between preserving the legacy of the founders and insisting that an association must remain permanently confined to the name under which it began. No one is asking the Manyu diaspora to abandon its heritage. On the contrary, MECDA carries the original cultural identity forward while explicitly recognising the developmental responsibility that the association’s leaders subsequently embraced.

The letters may have changed, but the Manyu people have not. The founding history remains. The cultural mission remains. The bonds of kinship remain. The issue is whether we can honour our beginnings while accepting the legitimate evolution of the institution we inherited.

Our brothers and sisters in Europe and the United States are an indispensable part of the Manyu family. They contribute ideas, resources, professional expertise and opportunities that can benefit communities back home. Their associations are important spaces for preserving Manyu culture among younger generations growing up far from Cameroon. But belonging to a wider community also entails a responsibility to engage constructively with its institutions.

If the national leadership adopted MECDA as the association’s name through a legitimate and properly communicated process, then diaspora chapters have a compelling reason to consider adopting that identity as well. A common name can strengthen recognition, facilitate cooperation and make it easier for our organisations to speak with one institutional voice.

Imagine the confusion when organisations claiming a shared heritage operate under different names without a clear explanation of their relationship. How do we present ourselves to development partners, cultural institutions, public authorities and the next generation of Manyu leaders? How do we build a coherent institutional identity when our nomenclature tells different stories about who we are? A shared identity would not resolve every disagreement, nor would it eliminate differences in local circumstances. But it could provide a stronger foundation for collaboration.

The diaspora’s strength should be measured not by its distance from the homeland’s institutions, but by its ability to contribute to their growth while preserving its own valuable initiatives.

Let us be clear: unity cannot be achieved by issuing commands from Mamfe, nor can it be sustained by dismissing the concerns of diaspora chapters. A name change, however well-intentioned, becomes meaningful across an international network when its legitimacy is understood, its history is documented and its adoption is pursued through dialogue.

Minister Victor Mengot and the national leadership should make the relevant resolutions, constitutions and historical records available to diaspora chapters. It should explain when the change was adopted, which body authorised it and what provisions govern its implementation across national and international branches.

Diaspora leaders, in turn, should approach the matter with open minds and a willingness to engage the historical and institutional arguments for MECDA. If there are procedural questions, let them be addressed. If there are constitutional ambiguities, let them be clarified. If there are genuine misunderstandings, let dialogue resolve them. What must be avoided is an endless contest in which the old name becomes a badge of loyalty for one group and the expanded name a badge of loyalty for another. Manyus must not allow nomenclature to become a dividing line through the very community the association was created to unite. The objective is not to humiliate anyone into submission. It is to build sufficient understanding and consensus for the Manyu family to move forward together.

The Patriarch of the Awanchi-Betieku people, the late Benedict Tarh and the other pioneers who nurtured the MECA idea deserve to be remembered for more than the name they introduced. Their enduring contribution lies in the spirit of association they helped establish: the recognition that Manyu people, wherever they reside, have a shared identity and a common interest in their collective future. The most fitting tribute to our founders is not necessarily to freeze their institutions in the exact form in which they began. It is to preserve their original purpose while responsibly adapting their work to the needs of a changing society.

If the expansion from MECA to MECDA was intended to unite cultural preservation with development, then that intention deserves serious consideration by every chapter, at home and abroad.

Our diaspora communities should ask themselves whether retaining the original name serves a compelling institutional purpose today, or whether embracing the expanded name could better express the full range of responsibilities that our association has assumed. That is a question worthy of mature leadership, honest discussion and a shared commitment to the future.

To our Manyu brothers and sisters in Europe, the United States and across the wider diaspora, this is a respectful but firm call for reflection and engagement. MECA is part of our history. MECDA represents the subsequent expansion of that institutional vision, as described by the leaders who supported the change. These two realities need not be placed in opposition. Let us document our history accurately. Let us establish the legitimacy and scope of the decisions taken by our national leadership. Let us hear the concerns of diaspora chapters without dismissing them. And, where the transition has been properly authorised, let us work towards a common name that reflects the association’s cultural and developmental mission.

We cannot continually invoke the founding fathers when defending our preferred position while refusing to examine the institutional decisions made by subsequent generations of Manyu leaders. Nor should national leaders expect unquestioning acceptance without explaining the decisions they ask the wider community to embrace. History gives us roots. Dialogue gives us understanding. Unity gives us strength. Development gives our collective effort practical meaning.

The Manyu people deserve an association that honours its past without becoming imprisoned by it, embraces development without abandoning culture and recognises the diaspora not as an outsider but as an integral part of the wider family.

The question before us is not whether MECA mattered. It did, and its founding legacy must never be erased. The question is whether we can carry that legacy forward under an institutional identity that embraces both culture and development. The time has come for MECA and MECDA to cease being symbols of division and become chapters in one continuous Manyu story.

Let Mamfe and the diaspora sit at the same table. Let the records speak. Let reason prevail. And let every Manyu son and daughter remember that our ultimate allegiance is not to a set of letters, but to the people, heritage and future those letters are meant to serve.

May the legacy of our founders continue to unite us, and may the next generation inherit not a dispute over a name, but a stronger institution worthy of the Manyu people.

By Soter Tarh Agbaw-Ebai