POPE LEO XIV ANGLOPHONES ARE BLEEDING

Opinion by Prince Mundi

 

Dear Holy Father, Pope Leo XIV,
We welcome you to Cameroon with reverence, but also with heavy hearts.
Your visit is announced as a spiritual one, and indeed, that is what we need most. Yet your office is not only spiritual, it is a global voice for peace, justice, and truth. Wherever you go, the cries of the suffering find a way to reach you. Today, as you set foot on this land, we pray that you will hear ours.
For more than a decade, the Anglophone regions of Cameroon have been bleeding.
What began as grievances has turned into a prolonged and painful conflict. Today, entire communities live in fear. Children who should be in classrooms are instead trapped at home, or worse, caught in the chaos of violence. Many have grown up knowing nothing but uncertainty. Education, once a pathway to hope, has been disrupted for years.
Our economy is broken. Businesses have collapsed. Families struggle daily to survive. In many areas, life has simply come to a standstill.
Our places of worship once sanctuaries of peace, have not been spared. Even our priest are suffering from constant kidnapping and demands for ransom with some killed. Churches have been damaged, gatherings interrupted, and worshippers scattered by the sound of gunfire. Even in prayer, we are not always safe.
Holy Father, we feel forgotten.
We have cried to our leaders. We have looked to the government, but its efforts, though present, have not brought the peace we long for. We have looked to the international community, but their actions have not matched the depth of our suffering. The much-talked-about dialogue of 2019 raised hope, but for many of us, it did not bring the change we desperately needed.
And so today, we turn to you.
As you prepare to meet Paul Biya, and as you engage with political and civil society leaders, we humbly ask: do not let our pain be absent from those conversations. Whisper our struggles into the ears of those in power. Speak for those who can no longer speak. Carry our story into rooms we cannot enter.
Holy Father, speak truth, clearly and courageously. The Gospel you carry is one of justice, compassion, and peace. We ask that nothing, no protocol, no pressure, no brown envelope should silence that truth. Let your words reflect the suffering you will witness, especially as you travel to Bamenda, a city that has become a symbol of both resilience and pain.
We are not welcoming you with celebration alone. We are welcoming you with expectation.
From Nyasoso to Furawa, from Nwa to Bangolan, from Kuk to the smallest villages hidden in the hills, our people are watching, hoping, praying. What flows from our eyes today is no more tears but blood,  is the weight of years of loss, fear, and uncertainty.
We do not ask for miracles beyond reach. We ask for a voice. A voice that will remind the world that we are still here. A voice that will challenge those in authority to act with urgency and sincerity. A voice that will reignite hope where it has nearly died.
Holy Father, be that voice.
As you come among us, come as a peacemaker. Come as light in a place that has known too much darkness. Come as a shepherd who does not ignore the wounded sheep.
We place our hope in God, but today, we also place a part of it in you.
Do not forget us.
With blood in our eyes and faith in our hearts,
The Anglophone people of Cameroon.