The Sounds of Yaoundé

It is never quiet here.  Maybe where you live it is quiet or at least is mostly quiet, but in a big city it is never quiet.

View from my neighbor's balcony

The sounds are different here, though similar to other places I've lived.

When it rains the water beats down on the metal roofs creating a cacophony of noise.  You can not have a conversation or listen to a movie or hear the radio.  It is too loud.  You can hear the rain coming across the small valley between the hills.  You know it's coming, a warning before your clothes are wet again. Deafening, and life-giving.


There are churches all over and because there are no sealed buildings - just open windows and sometimes open walls - the sounds pour and trickle out. The music - African call and response syle songs; imported European or western harmony with familiar tunes; drums, whistles, clapping; loudspeakers carrying the repetitive phrases chanting the messages of God; the congregants walking to and from talking, laughing, crying.  Sometimes the sounds are so loud in our apartment, I wonder how the people in the buildings can stand it.

Just before the Bible dedication in Abong-Mbang

Street noise. We live on a small street off the main road.  On our street we hear the thump, thump, crunch of cars and trucks trying to navigate the bumps and potholes, trash and concrete blocks on the way.  The gate squeaks and swings open.  The man at the corner honks repeatedly every evening between 6 and 9 for the guard to open his gate.  The trash truck announces it's presence in the neighborhood at each stop with a special series of honks.  The shoe repairman bangs his box in rhythm as he walks to let you know he is there. The guard and the vegetable lady talk all day long.  Cars in the parking lot behind us start, motor humming or roaring. Sometimes as they load up you hear a thump and a drag, but I only hear that on rare occasion early in the morning. They they talk in the parking lot about their day.  Children come and go, laughing, fighting, screaming. Chickens, dogs, and the occasional duck or goat add their own sounds.  Further away, on the main road, sirens announce the police, or an important visitor to the road. Trucks barrel up the hill changing gears and honking a low loud rumbling. Taxis honking to announce their presence, or to tell you they'll pick you up or see if you want a ride, or warn you they are passing.

This is the view from the main road looking up the road we live on.

Bars blaring music afternoon, evenings and nights.
Weddings beginning early afternoon and going until 6 a.m.
Small businesses with loudspeakers blasting music or advertisements.

A local hair dresser (weaves and braids) with music!
She looked at the first picture I took and then posed for this one.

Lawn mowers and chain saws. Most people use machetes to cut their lawn and hand saws to trim trees, but that is changing and the afternoon noises of small motors running are slowly entering the mix.

Each bird has its own call. My favorite is the call and response echoing back and forth lowering the pitch each time.


Fans blowing making me thankful for electricity.
Generators humming making me wish the power was back on.

The shouts of the whole neighborhood when the power comes back on or the water or Cameroon scores a goal in an important soccer match.

At first it was really loud here. But now, now mostly it fades to a dull background that you only hear if you really think about it.  But it.


Thanks for reading - and for praying for our family and ministry here in Cameroon.

Pray for Noah and Kristin's exams this week, Noah with a fever of 103 today, for Chris's work, for furlough plans including what to do for school.