In what political scientists are calling “a spirited contest between the Greatest Generation and… well, also the Greatest Generation,” Cameroon began counting votes Sunday in a presidential race that poses the question on nobody’s mind: Can a sprightly 76-year-old upstart dethrone a 92-year-old incumbent?
Welcome to Cameroon 2025, where “regime change” means swapping one grandfather for a slightly younger grandfather, and where the youth vote comes from anyone under 60.
Paul Biya, who has been president since 1982—that’s right, the year E.T. phoned home and Michael Jackson released *Thriller* – is seeking his eighth term with the campaign slogan “Greatness and Hope.” One might argue that after 43 years, perhaps it’s time to deliver on that hope, but Biya’s supporters would likely counter: “Patience is a virtue, and we’ve got nothing but time.”
His chief rival? Former government spokesperson Issa Tchiroma, a mere 76 years young, who represents what passes for revolutionary change in Cameroonian politics: someone who remembers the Apollo moon landing firsthand instead of as a historical event from their prime years.
A Generation That Knows Only One Name
The electoral mathematics are deliciously absurd. Just over 8 million Cameroonians registered to vote, and a significant chunk of them—everyone 43 and younger—have never known another president. That’s an entire generation for whom “President Biya” is as permanent a fixture as the sun rising in the east.
“I’m 43 years old. I’ve never known another president,” said voter Magdalene Tientcheu from Douala, articulating what might be the saddest political autobiography ever uttered. She’s voting for change, though one imagines after four decades of the same leadership, even a slightly less elderly statesman would feel positively revolutionary.
The Campaign: One Rally and a Prayer
Biya’s campaign strategy has been nothing if not efficient. Why hold multiple rallies when one will do? The 92-year-old held a single campaign event in Maroua, presumably to conserve energy for the gruelling four-or-five-year term ahead, and otherwise relied on state media and social media posts.
It’s a bold strategy: Let the opposition wear themselves out with all that tedious “connecting with voters” business while you maintain a dignified, presidential distance. Some might call it complacency. Others might call it genius-level energy conservation.
Meanwhile, Tchiroma has been doing the exhausting work of actually campaigning, galvanising large crowds with the radical message that perhaps—just perhaps—43 years is long enough for one presidential tenure. Revolutionary stuff.
The System That Keeps on Giving (the Same Result)
Of course, Biya has certain advantages beyond his youthful 92-year-old vigour. He abolished term limits in 2008—because why let something as trivial as constitutional restrictions interfere with destiny? The single-round electoral system means whoever gets the most votes wins, even without a majority. And with nine opposition candidates splitting the anti-Biya vote like a fractured mirror, the math favours the incumbent.
“A surprise is still possible, but a divided opposition and the backing of a formidable electoral machine will, we predict, give the 92-year-old his eighth term,” noted François Conradie of Oxford Economics, in what might be the least surprising prediction since someone forecasted that the sun would rise tomorrow.
Conradie added, with the kind of diplomatic delicacy that comes from years of observing African politics: “Although we think he isn’t very aware of what is going on, it seems that the machine he built will divide to rule one last time.”
Translation: The emperor may not know he’s wearing clothes, but his tailors are still working overtime.
The Suspense Kills (Slowly, Over 15 Days)
Results are expected within 15 days, and there are no exit polls, so Cameroonians will have to wait with bated breath to discover whether the 92-year-old or the 76-year-old will lead them into the future.
After voting in the upscale Bastos neighbourhood, Biya told journalists with Sphinx-like wisdom: “Nothing is given. Let’s wait and see. Let’s wait for the name of the winner.” It’s the kind of statement that could mean anything or nothing—perfect for a man who has turned political longevity into an art form.
Meanwhile, in Garoua, security forces fired teargas to disperse Tchiroma’s supporters who tried to gather near his residence, because nothing says “free and fair elections” quite like teargas on voting day.
The Question Nobody’s Asking
So will Cameroon finally see change? Will the generation that has never known another president finally get to update their political vocabulary? Will “Greatness and Hope” finally become something more than a slogan?
The smart money says no. Biya controls the state institutions, the opposition is fragmented, and the electoral system is designed for incumbency. But in a country that has suffered decades of economic stagnation, where oil and cocoa revenues haven’t translated into widespread prosperity, and where a 43-year-old can honestly say they’ve never experienced a transfer of power, perhaps the real question isn’t whether change will come.
It’s whether Cameroonians will still remember what change looks like when it finally does.
As voter Patrick Mbarga Mboa, 45, diplomatically put it after casting his ballot: “I hope peace and tranquillity will continue in the country after the election.”
Not change. Not transformation. Not a new direction.
Just peace and tranquillity.
After 43 years, perhaps that’s what passes for ambition in Cameroon’s politics—a nation where the only thing more permanent than the president is the hope that someday, somehow, things might actually be different.
But not today. Probably not within 15 days either.
Maybe next election cycle. When Biya is 99 and Tchiroma is 83.
Now that would be a change you can believe in.
