I wrote the lines below in 2022 when I lost my visa, again it is deep reading them now. This was my thinking of how to navigate my illegal situation.
Working without legal documents would provide me with too erratic resources, with which I could hardly accomplish anything concrete—except perhaps taking public transportation and risking further imprisonment. The last thing I need right now is to create more problems for myself. I have chosen to focus on intellectual growth, particularly in mathematics and computer science. My main priority is to help friends and family while I wait for the situation to improve. Anything that might prevent me from advancing intellectually in these areas will be set aside. I prefer to work on a voluntary basis even without legal papers. Whatever happens, I will continue working on these endeavors. It will take time to reach a level of knowledge that makes me truly resilient on an intellectual level.
A Point to Revisit from the Previous Chapter
(Another fable—or perhaps an illusion: I failed to consider that my residence permit might be rejected. That was another mistake on my part. Not accounting for the possibility of being turned down, not considering a particular failure, means I might naively assume everything will go as planned. It’s important to remember that nothing is guaranteed. I could lose everything overnight, and despite that, life must go on. I might be expelled, forced to return to Cameroon, or left without family support—but regardless, I will have to continue living. The biggest error would be to feed on an illusion, to live as if that illusion were reality, and to repeatedly crash into it.)
I realize that whenever I can’t solve a particular problem, the thought of being expelled immediately comes to mind. I become stressed about everything. All these issues flash before my eyes: my problems with documentation, my financial troubles—they all come back in an instant. I want to be free. I want to be free. Freedom. Freedom.
What is the price of this freedom? What do I have to lose? Where does this fear come from? Where does it originate? From deep within, from the soul. Freedom, freedom, freedom, freedom. I want freedom. To be free. Just that—to be free. That is what I aspire to; that is my essence and my hope. I must liberate myself, and I must do so as soon as possible.
I experienced a similar sensation at the end of last year—the same internal suffering, the feeling of being imprisoned. First, it was at college, and it’s ironic because that’s when I realized I didn’t want to be confined in that environment anymore. I felt trapped by the institution I was part of. I also made a big mistake by giving what little I had to my mother; now I find myself with nothing. I could have saved that money for my own registration instead. I can neither return home nor go back to school.
I NEED TO EXPRESS MYSELF. I NEED FREEDOM.
(A reflection: Today, I can consider what I should have done in the past, even though back then I didn’t have the information I possess now, nor did I have the strength to admit I might be wrong. I blamed my mother—for when I gave her that money, I was proud of myself, thinking I was the loving son. Now I want to blame her for what is happening to me, even though I could have simply said no. Investing in myself also means learning to accept loss. If I am to invest in myself, I must also be prepared to lose a lot—friends, family, sleep, meals, and many other things—rather than continue complaining about what I haven’t achieved because I didn’t make the necessary sacrifices.)
I face only one risk: being sent back to my country. I have been at risk of this since I found myself in this state of illegality. It is crucial that I do not commit fraud on public transportation. Finding a job will also be very challenging. In fact, I have been living with this risk since the day I arrived in France.
Identity? 