“The Right-To-The-City Question” and Indigenous Urban Populations in Capital Cities in Cameroon

Abstract

This paper explores the implications of state land tenure modernization and urbanization-promotion initiatives for human rights in Cameroon. The aim is to promote understanding of the implications of these initiatives for the right-to-the-city of indigenous urban residents. It is argued that the implications are more severe in politico-administrative headquarters than elsewhere in the country. Three different cities have served, at some point, as national politico-administrative headquarters in Cameroon, the study’s empirical referent. The designation of any city as a politico-administrative headquarters invariably creates a land scarcity problem in that city. The problem is aggravated for the city’s indigenous population by colonial and post-colonial planning policies. For this reason, the policies are said to be in violation of basic human rights as stipulated by the UN Declaration of Universal Human Rights as well as the African Charter.

Keywords

Buea Cameroon Douala indigenous populations land tenure modernization right-to-the-city urbanization Yaounde

Introduction

Worldwide, people are becoming increasingly aware of the ideals of human rights. Furthermore, there is a growing recognition of the need to protect these rights. What is unclear, however, is what these rights entail. The land domain, because of cultural differences in its definition and conceptualization of access and claims of entitlement, is ideally suited to clarifying these rights—especially as they pertain to access to the city. In African ethos, land is viewed not as a commodity but “a gift from God” that belongs to the dead, the living, and the unborn. However, colonial authorities introduced neo-liberal market principles and modes of legality that promoted individualism in land ownership throughout the continent. These principles were inherited and vigorously promoted by Western change agents throughout Africa.

This has far-reaching implications for the right-to-the-city of indigenous city dwellers. With Cameroon as the empirical referent, I identify and discuss the most poignant of these implications. Cameroon’s suitability in this context cannot be overstated. It is the only country that was colonized by three different European imperial powers, namely Germany (1884–1916), Britain (20% of the territory, 1919–1961), and France (80% of the territory, 1919–1960). It is also one of only a few African countries in which multiple cities have served as national capitals at some point. Buea served as the seat of the German colonial government of Kamerun (1902–1916), and the capital of British Southern Cameroons (1919–1961). Douala is the point at which Portuguese explorers first entered the territory that eventually became Cameroon (circa 1473). The city later served as the national capital of French Cameroun under the UN Trusteeship Administration (1946–1961). Yaounde has been the national capital of French Cameroun since independence in 1961, and that of the Republic of Cameroon since reunification in 1972.

In the next section I begin with a quick review of the theory and concept of right-to-the-city. Then I briefly discuss the evolution of land tenure modernization and urbanization-promoting initiatives in Cameroon. This is followed by an analysis of the implications of the initiatives for access to urban land for members of the indigenous populations in the three cities.

Right-to-the-city: theoretical and conceptual perspectives

The concept of right-to-the-city in the discourse on modern urbanism was first articulated by French philosopher, Henri Lefebvre, in the 1960s. As originally articulated by Lefebvre (1968) and echoed in his later works (Lefebvre, 1972, 1973; 1974; 1996), the concept of right-to-the-city embodies elements of human rights. Harvey (2008), one of the leading contemporary authorities on right-to-the-city, has taken Lefebvre’s argument a step further. For Harvey (2008: 1–2), the right-to-the-city goes far beyond what may be the rights of individuals in a given city to the resources offered by that city. “It is, moreover, a collective . . . right since changing the city inevitably depends upon the exercise of a collective power over the processes of urbanization” (Harvey, 2008: 1–2). Harvey’s call is for a radical transformation of social, political, and economic order in the city. A profound concern for justice, and especially questions of equitable access to the city, is a persistent theme in Harvey’s works as evidenced by his 1973 piece on Social Justice in the City (Harvey, 1973).

The notion of justice, as presented in literature on the right-to-the-city or the broader issue of spatial justice, draws directly from jurisprudence. It calls for the impartial resolution of conflicting claims of entitlement to scarce and non-substitutable resources, such as land. Here, justice does not necessarily imply equal treatment for all in a strict jurisprudential sense. Rather, justice may sometimes require preferential treatment for some. For instance, members of indigenous populations may have to be accorded preferential treatment to ensure a just outcome. This view of justice has actually been proposed as potentially useful for dealing with land problems in Africa (Moyo, 2000; Obeng-Odoom, 2010; Thomas, 2003). In his appraisal of The State of African Cities 2010 Obeng-Odoom (2010: 428) chided its author, the UN-Habitat, for failing to articulate urban problems such as forced evictions and illegal land settlement within the broader framework of justice in the city.

There are ongoing efforts to relocate justice questions from the social to the spatial milieu. Recent works epitomizing this trend include Soja’s (2010) Seeking Spatial Justice, Mitchell’s (2003) The Right to the City, and Harvey’s (2008) The Right to the City. These and similar works have drawn inspiration from Lefebvre’s earlier pieces, such as his treatise La Production de l’Espace (Njoh, 2012). Traces of Lefebvre’s (1968) work, Le Droit à la Ville, are easily detectable in these works. “In fact, the title of Mitchell’s and Harvey’s works, The Right to the City, is a verbatim translation of Lefebvre’s Le Droit à la Ville (French)” (Njoh, 2012: 753).

The right-to-the-city question has also been entertained in professional circles. The question has been central to many UN meetings, including those held at the UNESCO headquarters in Paris in 2005 and 2006, Barcelona in 2005, and Porto Alegre in 2008. More recently (2010), it constituted the central theme of an internet-based debate organized by the UN-Habitat (UN-Habitat, 2010). Despite its popularity in scholarly and professional circles, the concept of right-to-the-city remains nebulous. What does it entail? Who are the rights bearers in matters relating to right-to-the-city? I tackle these questions next.

The concept of right-to-the-city draws partial inspiration from the UN’s 1948 Universal Declaration of Human Rights (the Declaration) and the 1986 African Charter (the Charter) on Human and People’s Rights (ACHPR). These rights, as guaranteed by the Declaration and the Charter, include (ACHPR, 1986):

Human dignity;

Freedom of speech;

Affordable shelter;

Freedom from living in pain engendered by poverty; and

Access to sufficient food.

The Declaration and the Charter uniformly guarantee access to basic human needs—food, shelter, hygiene, and sanitation—for all regardless of race, ethnicity, religious, and political affiliation, ideological persuasion, and creed. However, as articulated in the literature on urbanism, the concept goes beyond the spirit of the Declaration and the Charter. It espouses the notion of a collective right for all citizens as active agents of change. It is within this framework that the concept has assumed a role similar to movements in the recent past, for example, “Occupy New York”, “Occupy Washington”, and cognate movements. Such movements have essentially been a reaction to perceived or real injustices that have resulted in urban inequalities and poverty throughout the world. The notion of right-to-the-city has fueled efforts culminating in the creation of a platform for challenging the increasing commodification of urban public goods and services.

Right-to-the-city package

The following items are generally staples with respect to the content of the right-to-the-city package: environment, housing, infrastructure, economy, socio-culture, and politics. The environment attribute of the package is concerned with clean air, natural light, and absence of pollution. The housing element speaks to the opportunity to procure suitable and affordable accommodation, while the infrastructure element addresses issues of water supply, sewage, waste water, power, and transportation. The economic concern is with the freedom to own/rent land, pursue economic opportunities, and claim compensation for displacement. The social component deals with basic freedoms, including those relating to movement and access to urban facilities. The cultural element speaks to questions of access to venues of cultural importance, access to recreational facilities, and freedom of religion. Finally, the political element addresses itself to the right to participate in shaping one’s local community and government.

The rights bearers

The rights bearers in the discourse on right-to-the-city are often identified as including women, children, and racial and ethnic minorities (UN-Habitat, 2010). Woefully missing from this list are indigenous urban populations. Yet, in their efforts to access valuable urban land, this group faces barriers that their non-indigenous counterparts would deem to be rare or unheard of. One factor at the root of this problem is the commodification of urban land. As Harvey (2008) has argued, the commodification of urban land is inherently discriminatory against the disenfranchised. This is because urbanization and capital are inextricably intertwined. The process by which this intimate connection occurs is of itself exclusionary, as capital is concentrated in the hands of a few. This in turn leads to the continued marginalization of the disenfranchised. Right-to-the-city and its attendant benefits invariably introduces economic and legal inequalities. Within this framework, the right-to-the-city is reserved exclusively for those with the ability to pay. It is, therefore, no wonder that some municipal authorities elect to make tax payment a prerequisite for benefiting from adequate urban goods and services.

The positive link between urban life, or urbanization, and economic growth is not uniquely associated with Western civilization. The politico-economic history of Africa pre-dating the European conquest contains accounts of the economic dominance of large towns over their smaller proximate and remote neighbors (Njoh, 1999; Hull, 1976). More recent research has uncovered evidence confirming a positive association between urbanization and development in Africa (Njoh, 2003; UN-Habitat, 2010). Cognizant of these benefits, colonial authorities in Africa designated colonial towns as exclusively European enclaves. “Colonial/Apartheid”, South Africa’s infamous “Pass Laws”, exemplify this trend (Njoh, 2007). The promotion of public health was a well-known pretext for exclusionary planning policies in colonial Africa. The case of French colonial planning schemes in Senegal, for example, during the outbreak of the bubonic plague in 1914, is one example of this (Njoh, 2007).

The indigenous leadership inherited colonial urban planning laws that have been effective in excluding the poor from cities. Examples include laws requiring Eurocentric building materials and land tenure formalization. The Commission for Legal Empowerment of the Poor has identified these requirements as leading causes of poverty and relative deprivation in developing countries. In Cameroon these policies tend to have their severest impact on indigenous members of the country’s cities, especially the administrative centers.

Evolution of land tenure modernization in Cameroon

The nature and raison d’être of Cameroon’s land tenure modernization initiatives are intimately linked to the country’s colonial history (see above). The European powers, as well as the indigenous authorities who succeeded them, undertook some level of land tenure modernization activity. One common thread running through efforts in this regard is the fervent desire to supplant the indigenous land tenure system with Eurocentric varieties.

Initial efforts in this connection were dominated by the use of force, especially during the German colonial era (Schler, 2005; Joseph, 1975). For instance, during the period 1891–1902, the German military commander, Karl Freiherr Graveneuth, used armed troops from Abomey (today, Republic of Benin) and Sierra Leone to quash local opposition to colonial government land grabbing schemes in Buea and Douala, respectively. In 1914 the German colonial government executed Douala’s King Rudolph Manga Bell because he opposed the Reichstag plan to supplant native seaside settlements with exclusive European enclaves. Earlier on, and less than a hundred kilometers from Douala on the slopes of Mount Cameroon, the colonial government had forcibly relocated members of the native population to reservations (reservats). This was punishment for the natives, known as Bakwerians, for their opposition to colonial rule. The reservation policy assigned each Bakwerian family an area of about 1.5 hectares for habitation and cultivation (Njoh, 2002; Fisiy, 1992; Meek, 1957). Furthermore, in 1911, it mandated the consolidation of dispersed native settlements into villages with surveyed plots and numbered buildings. A commensurate policy specifically targeted areas under native settlements in Tiko in the present-day south-west region. By decanting them into reservations, the Germans effectively began the formal process of denying Bakwerians the right-to-the-city.

In addition to force, German colonial authorities also enacted sweeping pieces of legislation to reinforce their grip on all land throughout Cameroon. The first such legislation, the Crown Lands Act, was promulgated on July 15, 1896. Its aim was to convert all so-called unoccupied lands throughout the territory into property of the German Overseas dominions. The Germans were also responsible for introducing the first land register, the Grundbuch, in Cameroon. Its purpose as the repository of information on all transactions in land remains unchanged.

The German colonial tenure in Cameroon ended abruptly after the end of World War I and the commensurate negotiations that ensued. As part of these negotiations, the territory was divided between France and Britain as League of Nations Mandate Territories. The League of Nations stipulated the manner in which the territories were to be administered. One stipulation worthy of note here spoke specifically to the issue of land tenure. In this regard, the League of Nations mandated respect for native customs relating to use, transfer, and alienation of land. In its attempt to adhere to this stipulation, French colonial authorities operated two systems of land laws in their portion of the territory. One of these systems, namely l’indigènat, governed lands belonging to, and controlled by, unassimilated members of the native population or les indigènes. The decree establishing this system was enacted on October 4, 1924. The decree was not novel, rather it was the replica of a policy that was in force in France and had been adopted in French West Africa since 1917. The other system was designed to govern European residents and assimilated members of the indigenous population (i.e. les assimilés or les evolués).

The first of these policies professed to be sensitive to native customs and traditional land tenure practices. However, in reality, it was indistinguishable from the second one. Paradoxically, the land laws adopted by French colonial authorities in Cameroun bore a striking resemblance to those of their German predecessors. The paradox is obvious once one acknowledges the degree of animosity that characterized French–German relationships at the time. However, the resemblance is understandable given that European colonial powers of all stripes pursued the land expropriation agenda with equal vigor. Thus, like the Germans before them, the French enacted a policy that converted all land that was neither individually owned nor duly registered, into property of the French colonial state (Njoh, 2002). The policy was a replica of a 1907 French West Africa Court of Appeal decision. The decision had ruled that customary rights and interests in land were null and void unless they were formalized and duly registered. Another law with similar objectives, la legislation d’attente, was enacted on July 24, 1921. This law was also not new, rather it was an extension of a law that had been employed many decades before in 1855 to introduce the transcription system in France. This law lasted until June 17, 1959 when it was replaced by Law No. 59–47 of the same year. It was intended to aggrandize the quantity of land directly under French colonial government control. A related major effort in this regard constituted the enactment of a Decree on January 12, 1938. This decree declared as property of the colonial state all land left unused or unoccupied for a period of 10 years (terres vacantes et sans maître) (Fisiy, 1992: 35; Njoh, 2003: 82).

Unlike the French, British colonial authorities did not have to feign adherence to League of Nations’ stipulations regarding attentiveness to the native land ethos in Cameroon. After all, the British colonial administrative strategy of indirect rule was designed to acknowledge and preserve African indigenous institutions whenever feasible and necessary. As part of this strategy, colonial land policies in Northern Nigeria were patently attentive to native laws and customs. This explains the decision by British colonial authorities to simply transfer these policies to the League of Nations Trust Territory of British Southern Cameroons (BSC). This decision was premised on a belief that BSC was more culturally aligned with Northern Nigeria than with its administrative sister-region, Eastern Nigeria. Despite rhetoric to the contrary, British colonial authorities followed in the footsteps of their German predecessors in expropriating land throughout BSC. Proclamation No. 25 of 1920 was the first major attempt on the part of the British to realize their aims in this regard. The Proclamation converted 264,000 acres of land around Mount Cameroon into property of the British colonial government of Nigeria. This was essentially all of the lands that the Germans had expropriated in the region prior to the abrupt termination of their tenure in Cameroon (Meek, 1957: 355). Although the Germans had been declared an enemy of the allied forces, their farmers remained in control of the lands they had acquired prior to the outbreak of World War I. This was because the British were unable to find suitable and willing entrepreneurs from allied countries to acquire the German plantations. At the conclusion of World War II, the British colonial government of Nigeria was assigned the task of administering BSC, including the lands in question. In 1946 the British government enacted two major ordinances. Both ordinances, Ordinances No. 38 and 39 of 1946, sought to regularize the status of the lands (Meek, 1957). Ordinance No. 38 of 1946 empowered the colonial Governor to acquire and employ the lands as he saw fit for the purpose of promoting the common good of the indigenous inhabitants of Southern Cameroons (Meek, 1957: 366). For its part, Ordinance No. 39 of 1946 established the Cameroons Development Corporation as a statutory body to assume control of the plantations (Meek, 1957: 366).

The colonial era in Cameroon ended in 1960. Despite this, the country’s land policies remain Eurocentric. The country’s landmark land law of 1974 is illustrative. Like the colonial land laws before it, this law made the Head of State the custodian of all land throughout the country. Also, like their colonial predecessors, contemporary land legislation required that all transactions in land be registered in the National Land Registry in order to be officially recognized. In a similar vein, the land certificate was made the sole official instrument attesting to one’s claim of entitlement to land. According to Land Ordinance No. 77–1 of January 10, 1977, urban land owners had until July 6, 1984, and rural land owners, until July 6, 1989, to convert all land deeds or certificates of occupancy into land certificates. The law mandated that failure to abide by these stipulations would result in concerned parties forfeiting their claims of entitlement to the land in question. These requirements, and modernist land policies in general, have far-reaching implications for the right-to-the-city in Cameroon. I dedicate the remainder of this paper to identifying and discussing these implications.

The right-to-the-city of indigenous city dwellers

The right-to-the-city question assumes a heightened level of importance in three of Cameroon’s major cities: Buea, Douala, and Yaounde. Each of these cities has served as the seat of the country’s national government at some point. In addition, the cities have continued to serve as regional administrative headquarters since the demise of colonialism. Consequently, they have received heightened attention from colonial and post-colonial governments alike. More noteworthy is the fact that the cities have served as the laboratory for testing the workability of the country’s land tenure modernization initiatives since the colonial era. Their status as administrative cities, and the commensurate facilities therein, have served as magnets for immigrants, known locally as “strangers”. More importantly, land reform initiatives have typically been enforced with particular zeal in these cities because of their status as administrative capitals.

It is therefore surprising that the question of accessibility to increasingly scarce urban land for indigenous members of these cities has received minimal attention. In fact, the only published works on this question are those of Socpa (2010), Njoh (2012) and Orock (2005). With the exception of Njoh (2012), none of these studies has approached the question from a comparative perspective. Njoh’s study (2012) does not accomplish the objectives set forth here. For one thing, it ignores the politico-administrative role and the implications of this role for the right-to-the-city question in the focal cities. For another, it is inattentive to the unique right-to-the-city problems of members of the cities’ indigenous population. Yet, throughout Cameroon’s history, government land reform actions have disproportionately limited the access to land for indigenous residents of (capital) cities. I submit that these actions have significantly violated the right-to-the-city for indigenous populations in Buea, Douala, and Yaounde.

Many land tenure modernization initiatives significantly impact on the right-to-the-city for these populations. Prominent in this regard are the following initiatives:

The mass expropriation and conversion of land and the concomitant establishment of native reservations;

Plantation agriculture and rapid urbanization policies;

The policy to modernize indigenous land tenure systems; and

he policy to westernize housing delivery mechanisms.

The right-to-the-city implications of land expropriation and conversion

As noted above, colonial authorities were notorious for expropriating and converting land throughout Cameroon into property of the colonial state. The 1896 German landmark land law, and similar pieces of legislation by the French and British, was designed to accomplish this objective. The post-colonial government’s land laws of 1974 and 1976 can also be seen as having achieved an identical objective. This is especially because it effectively classified all land throughout the country as property of the state. A perusal of relevant articles of the UN Universal Declaration of Human Rights of 1948 and the ACHPR of 1986 is revelatory. It suggests that government actions in this regard violate many facets of the human rights of all, with non-formal claims of entitlement to land in Cameroon. One important point needs to be made before delving into details of the violations in question. The conversion of land into property of the state has more immediate consequences for the capital cities than elsewhere. For reasons I have already alluded to, useable land in these cities is highly sought after. Consequently, since colonial times, efforts to expropriate land in the cities have always been relentlessly pursued.

The German colonial government native reservation schemes that were necessary to convert the fertile lands around Buea Mountain into colonial state property are illustrative. This act, as Njoh (2011) opines, constitutes an egregious violation of the human rights of members of the native (Bakweri) population. The violation here can be appreciated at two levels. First, decanting the indigenous peoples into reservations as the Germans did, failed to treat the people as human beings. Such treatment as was doled out to these people is clearly contrary to the requirements of the Declaration and the Charter. Article 1(1) of the Declaration and Article 19 of the Charter require that human beings be treated as individuals “born free and equal in dignity and rights.”

At the second level, confining members of the native (Bakweri) population to reservations was tantamount to denying them the right-to-the-city. In this regard, the Bakweri were not free to take advantage of the many opportunities afforded others by the blossoming colonial economy. This narrative held true even for other capital towns such as Douala and Yaounde, despite the absence of reservations. It is no accident that non-indigenous members of these towns have always fared better than their indigenous counterparts since the colonial era (see Orock, 2005 in the case of Douala; and Socpa, 2010 in the case of Yaounde). Rather, this is a function of the preferential treatment that has always been accorded members of the non-indigenous population. Members of this latter group have always been more “willing and able” than their indigenous competitors to pay the astronomical cost associated with urban land. The “survival of the fittest principle” suggests that the non-indigenous population is comprised of the fittest of their respective home-groups. For this reason, they are more likely than most members of the indigenous population to survive under the most challenging circumstances. This renders “willingness and ability to pay” unfair as a precondition for access to urban land for indigenous city dwellers.

The right-to-the-city implications of plantation agriculture and rapid urbanization policies

Plantation agriculture and government efforts to promote urbanization, for example, through infrastructure building, have been very effective in complicating the livelihood of indigenous city residents in Cameroon. The Germans were the first to establish agro-plantations in the country. Policies in this regard contain features that are deemed to be obviously in violation of basic human rights. One of these is the forceful acquisition of land. Before the end of their brief tenure in Cameroon, the Germans had forcefully acquired 210 acres of land around the colonial government station in Buea alone (Njoh, 2002: 408). They had also established vast acreages of plantations, complete with ancillary facilities along the Atlantic Coast in the Buea Mountain vicinity during the same period. The success of these plantations—and successful they were—depended on forced labor. This forced labor was initially sourced from members of the native population, and then later from immigrants from hinterland regions. Therefore, another feature of the German plantation agriculture policy that would be in contravention of contemporary human rights standards is the use of forced labor. By requiring the indigenous people to work without remuneration, the plantation agriculture policy prevented them from using their labor for economically gainful purposes. This goes against the grain of UN Human Rights stipulations and especially Articles 21 and 22 of the Charter. These Articles guarantee the “right to economic development and the right to dispose of one’s wealth as one sees fit.” From a broader perspective, plantation agricultural activities, which even now are commonplace in the coastal regions of Cameroon, infringe upon the people’s rights to own, alienate, and dispose of their communal property as they see fit. Article 21 of the Charter specifically stipulates that “All peoples shall freely dispose of their wealth and natural resource (ACHPR, 1986). This right shall be exercised in the exclusive interest of the people. In no case shall a people be deprived of it.”

Plantation agriculture also had another far-reaching implication for the right-to-the-city of indigenous people in the capital cities. It rendered city life less bearable for these people, who were accustomed to cultivating their own food on farms within close proximity to their residences. Since the introduction of plantation agriculture, these people were compelled to trek long distances to carry out subsistence farming activities. Thus, it is safe to argue that plantation agriculture stifled an aspect of culture for indigenous city dwellers in Cameroon. This in itself is in violation of Article 22 of the Charter, which guarantees the protection of people’s culture.

Efforts to promote urbanization and modernization have also had far-reaching negative implications for the right-to-the-city of indigenous city dwellers. Developments in colonial Douala exemplify this problem. German efforts to urbanize/modernize this city took off in earnest in 1892 (Njoh, 2002). This is when German colonial authorities used armed forces to dispossess the indigenous people of their land. The colonial government wasted no time thereafter in declaring itself the sole owner of all but the few tracts of actively occupied land in the city. It then proceeded to sell vast tracts of land around the estuary to European settlers. The proceeds were channeled towards colonial infrastructure development projects at strategic points around the city. In 1901, when proceeds from land sales could not cover the cost of colonial government projects, colonial authorities introduced a direct tax, the “dog tax”. This tax was levied on all dog owners throughout the city. One year later, the authorities introduced another tax, the “head tax”. This latter was levied on all native adults at a fixed rate of three marks per man, unmarried woman, and child, in remunerative employment. Married men with more than one wife were levied two marks for each additional wife. In 1908, when proceeds from these taxes still fell short of meeting the cost of colonial government operations, the head tax was increased to six marks for men. Those incapable of paying this amount were offered the opportunity either to perform manual work for 30 days on public works projects or to exit the town. The head tax rate was to witness yet another increase to ten marks in 1913. This increase was, however, exclusively for those with estimated annual incomes of 400 marks and/or who had more than one wife.

Two features of the aforementioned modernization/urbanization policy of the Germans in Douala would have affected the right-to-the-city of the town’s indigenous residents. The first of these was the taxation policy as a whole. As Harvey (2008) would argue, for example, in urbanization and capital, making the ability to pay, say taxes, as a precondition for urban residence is inherently exclusionary. This is because only a few possessed the means to pay. Thus the Germans, willingly or not, had effectively set the stage for continual marginalization of the disenfranchised in Douala. The other feature related to the exorbitant tax on plural wives. Here it is necessary to note that polygamy, particularly polygyny, constitutes part of the indigenous ethos of most Africans, including Cameroonians. Therefore, it is safe to conclude that, if nothing else, the policy succeeded in refusing access to the city for the many polygamists who were incapable of meeting the cost of taxes associated with plural wives. It is conceivable that this policy, including taxes on dog ownership, discouraged Douala’s indigenous residents from practicing their traditional culture. More worthy of note was the option of exiting the town for those who were incapable of meeting the stipulated tax obligations. While the immigrants of the town could return to their homelands, the indigenous dwellers had nowhere to go. Therefore, the colonial government taxation scheme would be deemed in violation of the right-to-the-city of the indigenous people of Douala. Other features of the scheme were in contravention of one or more fundamental human rights as stipulated by the Declaration and/or the Charter. To the extent that some of the schemes discouraged indigenous ethos, they would certainly be in violation of Article 22 of the Charter. This Article guarantees the protection of people’s culture.

The establishment of plantations made the most significant contribution to urbanization in Cameroonian coastal towns such as Douala and Buea. For instance, the population of towns in Fako Division, including Buea, increased tremendously with the establishment of the first plantations in the region in the late 1800s (Njoh, 2002). Almost all of the growth resulted from the high level of immigration, particularly the influx of single males recruited from hinterland regions and neighboring Nigeria to work on the plantations. Njoh (2002) makes one important observation in this regard that bears repeating here. No effort was ever made to increase the quantity of land allotted to indigenous families in the region, even though these families had increased in size. “Thus in Tiko, for instance, the 300 acres originally assigned to 50 households remained unchanged for a long time into the heydays of plantation agriculture in the region” (Njoh, 2002: 411). Conceivably, the failure to augment assigned family plots to account for increased family sizes had severe implications for food provisioning for indigenous dwellers of Tiko. In other words, this failure on the part of colonial authorities infringed significantly on the right-to-the-city of these people.

Right-to-the-city implications of modernizing indigenous land tenure systems

As stated at the beginning of this paper, the image of land and its raison d’être in Africa contrast sharply with that of Westerners. In traditional Africa, land is anything but a commodity. Rather, it is “a gift from God” belonging to the dead, the living, and the unborn. From this perspective, the living are charged with a crucial responsibility, namely to be good stewards and custodians of land. Within the framework of this ethos, the sale of land is forbidden. In contrast, Eurocentric ethos considers land mainly as a commodity. Seen through Eurocentric eyes, the value of land is only as good as its market price or economic worth. The scramble for Africa by European powers was propelled by a desire to maximize the utility of the land’s economic potential. Of course, the scramble was also motivated by political ambitions. However, these ambitions were subordinate to the economic motivations. This is because while economic power can be employed to achieve political power, the converse constitutes a less tenable proposition. Accordingly, colonial authorities prioritized the transformation of land into an economic commodity. This transformation entailed, among other things, the introduction of neo-liberal market principles and modes of legality that promote individualism in the land domain. The avowed rationale for policies in this connection was the promotion of economic development. This rationale continued to serve as the pretext for land reform actions by post-colonial authorities throughout Africa. Pronouncements such as the following by the UN Department of Economic and Social Affairs epitomize the thinking of pro-Western agents of international development on land tenure modernization.

African nations have been particularly troubled by a lack of information on the rightful owner of particular parcels of land. As a result, it is very difficult to determine who is liable for taxation purposes. In this case, a compulsory land register would solve these administrative problems and speed up the time it takes to determine the proper owner in private land transactions, thereby increasing the supply of land to the market. (UNDESA, 1973: 177)

The requirement for formalizing claims of entitlement to land in Cameroon is, like others throughout Africa, based on the aforementioned sentiment. In fact, authorities in Cameroon can summon further armor from more recent arguments by proponents of land tenure formalization to justify their land tenure modernization efforts. A leading contemporary proponent of land tenure modernization is Hernando de Soto. De Soto (2000) contends that land tenure formalization constitutes a viable means of ensuring equity among different societal groups.

However, evidence suggests that the land tenure formalization process has had negative implications for the poor and other minorities in Cameroon (Fisiy, 1992; Njoh, 2012, 1998; Socpa, 2010). Conversely, the process favors bureaucrats, politicians, and business people. In fact, many provisions of the country’s land law are overtly skewed to favor members of these groups. For instance, by making the state the sole custodian of all lands throughout the territory, as per Section 1, Part I of Ordinance No. 74–1, the law accords the state, and hence, societal elites, inordinate powers. In fact, the law gives the Ministry of Lands and the Head of State the power to make small (less than 50 hectares) and large (over 50 hectares) grants of land, respectively, to willing and able investors (DeLancey, 1989; Njoh, 2003). Most of the lands so granted have been for purposes of political patronage, and have been in the country’s leading politically influential cities of Buea, Douala, and Yaounde. The precondition for the grants, namely the ability and willingness to immediately develop the land, means that only the economically advantaged have benefited from them. In other words, the grants have benefited mainly members of the non-indigenous population in these cities. As argued above, the so-called strangers in these towns are, on average, wealthier than members of the indigenous population.

Such grants have effectively reduced the quantity of land available to indigenous city dwellers in these cities. This is because land cannot be created or relocated. Thus, it is clear that the grants have conspired to deprive indigenous city dwellers of their right-to-the-city. In the general area of Buea, the quantity of land available to indigenous city dwellers has been further reduced through recent actions by the state. Prominent among these actions has been the decision to convert and sell erstwhile colonial plantation lands as freehold lands to private entities (Njoh, 2012). In Yaounde the state has aggressively pursued policies designed to address the national capital’s problem of quantitative deficiencies in housing. Efforts in this connection have included the parceling out and sale of so-called state land to private parties willing and able to immediately develop the land (Socpa, 2010). Note that state land originated as the ancestral lands of the indigenous people of Yaounde, which were expropriated and converted into German colonial government land in 1896. The lands were converted into colonial property on the pretext that they were “ownerless and unoccupied”. Post-colonial efforts along similar lines have inherited erstwhile colonial government lands, and proceeded to declare more land as state property if the lands are “free of any effective occupation” (see Section 1, Part III(a) of Cameroon’s Land Law of 1976). How such state land expropriation activities violate the human rights and the right-to-the-city of Yaounde’s indigenous inhabitants can be easily appreciated. The notion of “vacant and ownerless land” with respect to a people’s ancestral land is absurd and preposterous.

In fact, the act of designating the ancestral lands of Yaounde’s indigenous dwellers as “ownerless”, as colonial authorities and their post-colonial successors have done, is legally indefensible. The Australian High Court case which pitted the indigenous Meriam people (the plaintiffs) against the Government of Queensland (the defendant) is informative here. The case, commonly known as Mabo v. Queensland,¹ was decided by the High Court of Australia on June 3, 1992. The lessons drawn from this case can be of use not only to the indigenous Yaounde dwellers but also to residents of Buea and Douala. Like the native Meriam people, the indigenous people of these three cities lived and utilized their ancestral lands in a multitude of ways before the European conquests. Also, these indigenous people, like other Africans, operated a functional land tenure system based on their customs and traditions before any land tenure modernization initiatives. Furthermore, it is obvious that the indigenous dwellers of Buea, Douala, and Yaounde, like the indigenous Meriam people, have a special connection to their ancestral lands that cannot be measured in exclusively economic terms. Therefore, as in the case of Mabo v. Queensland, any theory advancing the doctrine of terra nullius or “vacant and ownerless land”, is untenable.

Right-to-the-city implications of westernizing housing delivery

Housing takes up the lion’s share of urban land in Cameroon. This is particularly true in the case of the capital cities of concern in this paper. Therefore the housing crises and the land question in these cities are intimately connected. Seen in this light, government actions designed to address the cities’ housing problems have several implications for their land question. It is from this perspective that the implications of government efforts to modernize housing and the housing delivery process in the country can best be understood.

Government efforts in this regard have mainly been through three quasi-state agencies, namely the Cameroon Building Corporation (or Société Immobilier du Cameroun (SIC)), the Office for Planning and Development of Urban and Rural Areas (or Mission d’Aménagement et Equipement des Terrains Urbains et Ruraux (MAETUR)), and the Office for the Development and Management of Industrial Zones (or Mission d’Aménagement et de Gestion des Zones Industrielles (MAGZI)) (Njoh, 2012). SIC is responsible for supplying rental and owner-occupied housing. For their part, MAETUR and MAGZI are in charge of sites and services projects for individuals, and industrial land servicing respectively.

Analysts are unified in charging that since its creation in 1952, SIC has succeeded in serving only members of the country’s middle- and upper-middle classes (Njoh, 2012; Socpa, 2010). In all of the cities of concern here, the class is dominated by immigrants as opposed to indigenous city dwellers. As a quasi-state agency SIC usually claims the best building land, while the least desirable plots are allocated to the poor, mainly indigenous, urban dwellers. In Yaounde this land allocation scheme has resulted in compounding the housing problems of the city’s indigenous dwellers (Socpa, 2010).

The activities of MAETUR and MAGZI, as Socpa (2010) has observed, have also had the effect of dispossessing Yaounde’s indigenous residents of their ancestral lands. To appreciate Socpa’s point, it is necessary to first acknowledge the following fact. One’s eligibility for a MAETUR serviced plot depends on one’s ability and willingness to immediately execute a building project on that plot. Thus, indigenous city dwellers are seriously disadvantaged since those most likely to meet this criterion are, for reasons already mentioned, predominantly immigrants. MAGZI-serviced land is also available exclusively to those with the wherewithal to immediately implement industrial development projects on the land. MAGZI-led initiatives have had severe consequences for indigenous city dwellers, especially in Yaounde, the national capital, and Douala, the country’s economic hub. For instance, under relevant provisions of the country’s land law, ancestral lands not backed by formal claims of entitlement have been confiscated and placed at the disposal of industrial developers. Policies in this regard date back to the 1980s (Njoh, 2012; Socpa, 2010). The real and perceived injustices perpetuated by such policies have been at the root of some of the most violent riots that Yaounde has experienced since the 1980s (Socpa, 2010). These injustices have also nurtured intense acrimony and hatred between the city’s indigenous dwellers and its immigrants, or so-called strangers.

Summary and conclusion

Governments in the developing world are often unaware of elements of their policies that are in violation of human rights. This is particularly true in the case of rights that have recently been acknowledged, and about which knowledge is at an inchoate state. One such right is the right-to-the-city. This paper has discussed this right with a view to promoting understanding of the ways in which it can be violated. Cameroon’s unique history—being the only country that was colonized by three European powers, and one of the few African countries that has had three different national capital cities—makes it ideally suitable as an empirical referent for the study. The study shows how the country’s colonial and post-colonial planning laws have impeded access to these capital cities for members of their indigenous population.

Footnotes

Funding

This research received no specific grant from any funding agency in the public, commercial, or not-for-profit sectors.

Notes

Author biography

Ambe J Njoh is professor of environmental science and policy in the School of Geosciences, at the University of South Florida, Tampa, USA. He has written extensively on urban planning and the political and socio-economic implicatiions of urbanization in Cameroon in particular and the Africa in general. He is the author of 10 books, and about 100 peer-reviewed articles, book chapters and technical reports. His most recent book is on ‘urban planning and public health in Africa’ (Ashgate, 2012).

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