9 Things I Miss Most About Cameroon

Being at church in Cameroon comes with its own delightful rituals — not least the dynamic leadership of praise and worship teams. It’s common to see a young singer rise on stage and, for the duration of the service, lead with confident, sometimes playful commands that get everyone involved. From simple prompts like “If you love Jesus, put your hands on your head” to energetic calls of “Now get ready!” the atmosphere becomes lively and inclusive. Those moments of communal movement and voice give a unique warmth to worship that many miss when they’re far from home.

“If you love Jesus, put your hands on your head!
If you love Jesus, put your hands on your shoulder!
If you love Jesus, put your hands on your waist!
Now get ready!
On descends, on descends, on descends, on descends
Remonte! Remonte! Remonte! Remonte!”

Shopping in many Cameroonian markets is an experience of lively negotiation, playful banter and the occasional sharp word. Unlike fixed-price shopping abroad, here you often haggle with sellers, exchange jokes and tests of patience, and leave feeling you’ve both reached a deal that suits you. A simple dress can turn into a short performance of offers and counter-offers, laughter, and teasing — all part of the culture that makes market trips memorable.

You: “Di close na ha mush?”
Seller: “Fifteen tasand.”
You: “Mamamiye! How e deer so?”
Seller: “E no deer. Na better close dis for fyn geh like you.”
You: “I get na 5 tasand ya.”
Seller: “You di look de close fine? Okay, make we no ova talk, gimme thirteen tasand.”
You: “Nooo! I get na six tasand.”
Seller: “See e mop like six tasand! Ah pick de close na pick am?”

The scent of freshly unwrapped Koki — steamed black-eyed pea pudding wrapped in plantain or banana leaves — is unforgettable. There’s something deeply comforting about tearing open the leaves and eating Koki with unevenly ripened bananas. It’s humble, affordable, and rich in memory: the smell alone can pull you straight back to market stalls and neighborhood kitchens where generosity and taste go hand in hand.

Family ties are central to life in Cameroon. Being away means missing everyday closeness: parents, siblings, in-laws, aunts, uncles, cousins and close friends. Those regular visits, shared meals and casual conversations are anchors — losing them leaves a real emptiness. The longing to see and embrace loved ones is a constant reminder of where home truly is.

What I miss most are unhurried visits: friends dropping by to chat for hours about everything and nothing, lingering over tea, laughter and stories. Those face-to-face interactions build warmth and connection that phone calls or quick messages can’t replace. The slow rhythm of genuine conversation is a treasured part of home life.

Local free-range fowl — with its distinct, earthy flavor — is a culinary highlight. When cooked well, the taste is rich and memorable, a reminder of simple, traditional food prepared with care. It’s the kind of meal that evokes neighborhood scenes, shared plates and the satisfaction of authentic home cooking.

Public transport in Cameroon often includes spirited, comic moments. You might climb into the back seat of a taxi to find three passengers already claiming their space, and a hesitant shuffle follows as everyone creates room — more in principle than in actual comfort. That little tension, the repertoire of polite complaints and resigned acceptance, becomes a familiar, oddly affectionate part of daily life.

Riding an okada (motorcycle taxi) on a hot day brings a simple pleasure: the breeze that cools your face as you weave through traffic and scenery. It’s a sensory detail many miss — that fresh, immediate feeling of motion and air that makes a short ride feel freeing and alive.

The closeness to nature — fruit trees you can pick from, long walks across varied terrain, and constant interaction with plants and animals — is irreplaceable. Being able to trek, pick fresh fruit straight from branches, and live alongside the natural world gives daily life a grounded feeling. Those small freedoms and connections with the earth are sorely missed when living abroad.

Sometimes I wish I could be in Cameroon in the blink of an eye. Home sweet home.

What do you miss most about your home country? Share your thoughts and let’s talk.