By Emmanuela Siy
The ongoing Anglophone Crisis in Cameroon has plunged the Northwest and Southwest regions into turmoil, forcing community healthcare providers to navigate a perilous landscape. They face a harrowing dilemma: an unwavering commitment to saving lives collides with stark realities of danger. Navigating bomb threats in Mamfe and Konye, and moving through treacherous forest areas in Kwakwa and Muyuka, these workers risk their lives daily to provide care to victims of the conflict.
Since 2016, clashes between Anglophone separatists and government forces have resulted in widespread violence, displacing thousands and severely disrupting healthcare access. Hospitals and clinics are frequently targeted, leaving many community health workers operating under constant fear.
According to the UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA), more than 583,112 people are internally displaced due to violence in the two regions. OCHA adds that over 210 health facilities are no longer functional because of destruction or abandonment by medical staff.
Healthcare infrastructure in some areas, particularly in the Southwest Region, has crumbled. Hospitals have been burned, community health providers kidnapped, and others killed. This has forced some workers to operate under permanent threat, facing a daily choice between their duty to care for the sick and the risk to their own lives.
Fifty-two-year-old Nchinda Oumarou Kenyi, a farmer and community health worker in Yoke-Malende, Muyuka, recounts his experience: “When the crisis started, I had nowhere to run to. I could not just move with empty hands; I had no money to go to another town to start afresh.”
He was trained as a community health worker in 2014 and began his work in 2018. “We started in 2018 to distribute drugs and vaccines. We were suspected of being spies for both the government and the separatist fighters. Sometimes we were arrested and questioned; other times, we were harassed. In 2023, I was attacked and taken from my home by government security forces and accused of collaborating with separatists. I wasn’t given any chance to speak. I had to get on my knees and plead my innocence before I was released.”
This did not stop him from serving his community. He continued his duties, following his training by identifying and reporting infectious diseases, distributing medical supplies such as medicines and vaccines, and providing first aid and basic medical care.
“When you have a passion for something, you keep doing it no matter what. Moving around and seeing the children and families I have helped, brings me joy. I help at the expense of my own life, but at least my conscience is clear,” Oumarou said.
These community workers are caught in a complex web of loyalty and fear as they weigh their ethical responsibilities against immediate threats to their safety.
“I remember during one of the lockdowns in Malende, a pregnant woman went into labor. I had to leave my house, take her to the hospital on my motorbike, and she gave birth to a baby boy twenty minutes later. Another time, a neighbor’s husband had a stroke. I rushed him to the hospital on my bike, and today he is fine,” Oumarou explained.
As the crisis deepens, Oumarou’s role grows increasingly vital. He works tirelessly, often without pay, to ensure that those affected by the conflict in Muyuka receive the healthcare they desperately need.
“Oumarou embodies the spirit of humanitarian work,” says Dr. Njang Emmanuel, District Medical Officer in Muyuka. “His selflessness and bravery inspire us all to do more.”
Community healthcare providers in these crisis hot zones face profound ethical dilemmas. With limited resources, they are often forced to prioritize care, leading to significant moral distress. Nkolle Enongene, another community health worker in Konye, notes that the anguish of losing patients due to a lack of access weighs heavily on his conscience as he navigates impossible choices across different health districts.
“It is a challenging period. There were over eight health districts to cover in Meme Division at the start of the crisis in 2017. I remember a time we slept in the forest on our way to distribute vaccines; we walked on foot to reach some facilities. I do this because I care for people,” Nkolle said.
Despite the dangers, these health workers often become pillars within their communities. They not only provide medical aid but also instill hope in those in need.
The dilemma faced by community healthcare providers in the South West Region stands as a testament to their dedication and resilience. As they walk the thin line between duty and danger, their stories highlight the urgent need for increased national and global support and advocacy. The courage of these individuals not only saves lives but also inspires hope in the darkest of times.
