When Cameroon’s President Paul Biya mounted the podium on October 7 in the northern city of Maroua—his first and only campaign rally for the October 12 presidential election—many Cameroonians were struck not by his words but by the long pauses between them. His voice, once firm and commanding, came out in a rasp, and his hands trembled slightly as he read from his notes. “I am aware of the unfulfilled expectations that make you doubt the future… [but] I can assure you that these problems are not impossible to overcome,” Biya said in a speech that lasted some 24 minutes. For a country that has known no other leader since 1982, the frailty of its president was as telling as any policy announcement. Biya has ruled Cameroon longer than most of its citizens have been alive. Entire generations have been born and grown up under his leadership. But he’s not done yet. Now, at 92, he has won yet another seven-year term—potentially extending his reign to nearly half a century when he will be 99. On October 27, Cameroon’s Constitutional Council on declared Biya the winner of the election with 53.66% of votes against 35.19% for his former ally-turned challenger, Issa Tchiroma Bakary. Days after the vote, Tchiroma had claimed winning 54.8% of the vote in 18 key districts, which, he affirmed, constitute 80% of the slightly over 8 million electorate against 31.3% for his former master. Biya’s longevity in power is not just political—it is deeply personal for Cameroonians, many of whom view his presence as a reminder of continuity without change. University students joke that Biya has been president longer than the campus lecture halls have stood. Despite his age, Biya has not created a pathway for new leadership to emerge—either for the country or for his party. Instead, he has quietly laid the groundwork for dynastic succession. His 53-year-old son, Franck Biya—a businessman with no political office and few public appearances—has steadily built a network of allies and influence, with whispers of a succession plan growing louder even as nothing has been made official. One campaign-style photo of Franck briefly circulated online, then vanished.

Across Central Africa, dynastic successions are nothing new. Biya now joins a long line of autocrats in the region who use political institutions to cling to power and secure family handovers. But unlike the overt transitions elsewhere, Biya’s approach is opaque and understated, reflecting a system where power moves through silence, backroom deals, and informal signals. This unusual strategy leaves Cameroonians uncertain about the future. With weak institutions and power concentrated in the presidency, analysts warn that the October 12  election could set the stage for instability and infighting within the ruling elite. This is not just another father-to-son story. It is about how one of Africa’s most enduring strongmen is executing a familiar authoritarian maneuver—but on his own quiet, calculated terms. “It is a typically Biya-esque succession plan: understated, opaque, and designed to keep everyone guessing,” Christopher Fon Achobang, a Cameroonian social justice campaigner and close observer of Biya’s regime, told Africa Is a Country. “That secrecy has long defined his rule. Since taking power, Biya has governed by absence—often literally, spending months at a time abroad. The long-serving leader’s opaque style has left a fragile country guessing about its future,” he added.

When Biya came to power in 1982, he succeeded Ahmadou Ahidjo, Cameroon’s first post-independence president. What began as a hopeful transfer of power has since become an endless reign—one marked by vanishing jobs, rising prices, and decaying infrastructure. Cameroon once offered stability in a turbulent region, but today it is riven by insurgencies, entrenched corruption, and economic decline. “For ordinary Cameroonians, politics has become a distant theater of palace intrigue, while daily life is shaped by inflation, corruption, collapsing infrastructure, and war,” Achobang said. “In such a vacuum, dynastic succession becomes less a choice than an inevitability—offering continuity without change.”

Beyond elite maneuvering, daily life for most Cameroonians continues to be a grind. Inflation has driven up the price of basic foods, while salaries remain stagnant. At his October 7 rally, Biya admitted that his last seven-year mandate had been hampered by “many challenges,” but insisted “the best is still to come.” A local resident who attended the event dismissed the remarks as recycled campaign platitudes. “He gave similar speeches in 2004, 2011, and 2018. We expected him to give a balance sheet of his just-ended mandate. Nothing has been done,” 26-year-old Amadou Abdulaziz told Africa Is a Country. Amadou, who said he attended the rally “out of curiosity,” added that he planned to vote for the opposition: “I am going to vote for change.”

His sentiments are echoed by Tunguleh Ernest Abongho, a 31-year-old business development analyst based in Cameroon’s capital, Yaounde, who dismissed Biya’s victory in the election as a “political omnipotence.”

Abongho foresees his life—and those of most Cameroonians—in another seven years under Biya remaining “tragically suboptimal” since, he asserts, “the entire system is designed to fail us.”

“President Biya has run a succession of “Septennats”: the seven-year term of great ambitions, that of great achievements, that of great opportunities, and now, the seven-year term of great hopes. But these so-called “great ambitions” and “great achievements” have come and gone with no discernible impact on the lives of ordinary citizens,” Abongho told AIAC. “In fact, any successes achieved were only felt and confirmed by those in power. The fact that the new slogan is now simply one of “great hopes” confirms a harsh truth: the entire system is likely to remain suboptimal,” he said.

Cameroon’s last presidential election, in 2018, was marred by violence and low turnout, with only about 53 percent of registered voters taking part (the turnout this year stood at 57.7%.) Biya officially won more than 71 percent of the vote amid widespread claims of fraud, defeating key opposition figure Maurice Kamto, who secured just 14.2 percent. Kamto, who has continued to question the legitimacy of Biya’s rule, was barred from contesting in this year’s election. Even before the results of the 2025 election were proclaimed,observers have flagged serious irregularities: the presence of deceased persons on the voter rolls at multiple polling stations; unequal distribution of ballot papers; attempted ballot box stuffing; and incidents of violence in and around voting centers.

Pockets of protests over fraud allegations occurred in  different parts of Cameroon in the lead-up to the declaration. At least a dozen unarmed protesters were shot dead while ruling party offices, courthouses, council offices, police stations and a school were arsoned.

Three days after the vote, self-proclaimed winner Issa Tchiroma Bakary alleged that a plot was underway to falsify the results in Biya’s favor. In a message posted on Facebook, he claimed that his party’s representative in Bafoussam, in the West Region, was being held against her will after refusing to sign a falsified report declaring Biya the winner in that city—despite what Tchiroma described as “real and undeniable results” showing that he had won there with more than 80 percent of the vote. Biya’s political staying power has never hinged on public mandate. It has always depended on control. Since the country’s first multiparty election in 1992, he has manipulated outcomes to his advantage, abolished presidential term limits in 2008, and ensured that parliament, the judiciary, and the security apparatus serve as extensions of the presidency. In Cameroon, the presidency stands above all other institutions. Parliament and the courts are largely symbolic, rubber-stamping what the president and his inner circle decide. Elections have long ceased to be instruments of democratic accountability; they have become ceremonial performances reaffirming Biya as head of state.

“There are no real elections in Cameroon, only coronations—and this time will be no different,” Tibor Nagy, former US assistant secretary of state for African affairs, told Africa Is a Country. “Whether at age 92 Biya is actually calling the shots, or it’s his entourage which doesn’t want to let go, the results are the same.” He added: “We have one other African country where there has been a dynastic continuation of a head of state to his son—Togo, where ‘Papa’ Eyadéma was succeeded by Faure Gnassingbé, who recently changed the Constitution to allow himself to rule from behind the throne for as long as he lives. That the Togolese people vehemently oppose these changes matters not a whiff—they don’t count in the eyes of the powerful. It will be the same in Cameroon unless there is a political earthquake.”

Like Nagy, US-based Cameroonian writer and political analyst Dibussi Tande said he didn’t  expect the October 12 election to produce any surprises. The field of nine opposition candidates, he notes, was  made up almost entirely of moderates and legalists—figures seeking to steer the ship of state rather than revolutionaries aiming to overturn the system. “There [was]  the usual handwringing about the opposition being unable to come up with a consensus candidate, and then the usual complaints of rigging, and [now] the ultimate coronation of President Biya,” Dibussi said. “The significance of this election is that whatever the outcome, it will be a transition election; it will either mark the official beginning of the long-awaited transition within the Biya regime itself, or the inevitable transition from the Biya regime to a new one. Whether this happens sooner or later is a matter of conjecture, but come what may, that transition begins in October.”

A frail-looking Paul Biya kept chewing something as he greeted party officials during his rare October 7 campaign outing, accompanied by his son Franck. The appearance came a week after Biya’s return from what was described as a “short private stay” in Europe. State-run Cameroon Radio Television, which had exclusive broadcast rights to the visit, avoided showing the president walking—only filming him seated in the tribune or exchanging brief greetings with supporters. At the rally, Biya was offered a white horse, 52 cows, a spear, a belt, and other symbolic items by party members, all presented as tokens of authority and leadership.

As Biya secures  yet another term while quietly grooming Franck amid secrecy and a regional culture of dynastic handovers, analysts are raising the alarm. Emmanuel Tatah Mentan, a US-based Cameroonian author, academic, and social justice advocate, says the current rush to engineer father-to-son succession in constitutional republics like Togo, Gabon, and Chad is both “aberrant and abhorrent” precisely because it is never carried out in reverence to the Constitution. “The attempt by Biya to enthrone Franck Biya as his successor is obvious. There is a subtle media campaign going on to showcase Franck as a loyal, humane, and caring leader,” Mentan told Africa Is a Country. “He was touted by President Paul Biya to French President Emmanuel Macron in Yaoundé [during a visit in July 2022] as a loyal respecter of French interests in Cameroon. Franck Biya has also visited connected palaces in Rey Bouba, a powerful lamidat in northern Cameroon, and the Sultanate of Foumban in the west. The generals in the Cameroonian armed forces have been made to pledge their loyalty to Franck Biya, when he is enthroned,” he added.

But Dr. Christopher Fomunyoh, senior associate for Africa and special adviser to the president at the Washington, DC–based National Democratic Institute, argues that dynastic successions have brought everything but peace, stability, and prosperity to the continent. “Africans are no longer docile in the face of such failed and antiquated policies and practices,” Fomunyoh told Africa Is a Country. “They have left countries poorer and less stable.” Even so, Biya’s ethereal rule has never hinged on charisma or personal authority; it is rooted in a durable system he has come to personify. He has mastered the art of political survival: balancing ethnic elites, distributing patronage, surrounding himself with a fiercely loyal presidential guard, and remaining indispensable to foreign powers—especially France—who continue to view him as a guarantor of regional stability.

“His style of ruling by silence, often spending months abroad, paradoxically strengthens his grip: Factions compete under his shadow, but none dare to move without his blessing,” says  Fon Achobang, the Cameroonian social justice campaigner. “By presenting himself as the sole arbiter, Biya has managed to stay on top, even as the country stagnates. Decisions are increasingly made through factional bargaining among unelected elites, rather than national consensus.” At every level of Cameroonian public life, there is a hierarchy of submission that flushes out dissent and demands obedience to the logic of power. “In Cameroon, you are counted as the odd one out at all levels of society if you radiate strong moral principles,” says Wilson Tamfuh, professor of public and international law at the University of Dschang. “Sometimes, even objective criticisms raise suspicion and exclusion.”

The security services and the ruling party maintain a tight grip on power, but real authority increasingly lies in the Office of the Secretary-General of the Presidency, which now manages most day-to-day decisions. In recent years, Biya has grown almost entirely detached from the people he claims to lead. He rarely addresses the nation, avoids public appearances, and is seen only a handful of times each year. Governance now functions through remote control: Presidential decrees and appointments are often issued via electronic signatures, absent of transparency or explanation. Many Cameroonians quietly speculate that Biya may not even be fully aware he was running to replace himself in office.

“Mr. Biya is too detached from any notion of love of country to have been concerned about what happens to Cameroon after him. He has been living for the moment: ‘I am the state,’ as the old monarchs of France believed,” said Eric Chinje, a Cameroonian-born communications and media expert, currently serving as a visiting scholar at George Mason University in Fairfax, Virginia. “He will leave us with a cluster of gangsters all fighting to be the next Biya. What that holds for the country is, of course, a slow slide into an abyss of poverty, tribal rivalry, and hate.”

Indeed, Biya’s long rule has taken Cameroon from a position of relative postcolonial stability into a state of protracted crisis. In recent years, the country has been grappling with Boko Haram attacks in the Far North and a secessionist insurgency in the Anglophone Northwest and Southwest regions. The latter conflict, sparked in 2016 by the government’s efforts to impose French in English-speaking schools and courts, has since escalated into a full-blown war. Nearly 7,000 people—most of them civilians—have been killed. More than a million have been internally displaced, while thousands of others have fled to neighboring Nigeria.

The crackdown on dissent has also been sweeping. Many English-speaking Cameroonians are now imprisoned in connection to the war, with civilians facing military tribunals under terrorism charges. “Like thousands of English-speaking Cameroonians, I was charged with secession, terrorism, and sponsorship of terrorism,” says Abdul Karim Ali, who has been detained at Yaoundé Central Prison since February 2023. “Despite being a civilian not involved with arms, I was arraigned before a military court, which I boycotted due to jurisdiction limitations. In my absence, I was sentenced to life imprisonment,” he said.

Like  Ali, more than 3,000 Cameroonians are currently in jails across the country for expressing their political views. The list of recriminations against individuals holding dissenting opinions is long. “Visit the notorious Kondengui prison in Yaoundé and see how many politically motivated detainees are there,” says  Fomunyoh. “Talk to journalists and hear how many of their colleagues, like Martinez Zogo and Samuel Wazizi, lost their lives in circumstances that have still not been elucidated years later. Even political parties are not spared the meddling in their internal affairs by the state.”

Dr. Sam Amadi, director of the Abuja School of Social and Political Thought, argues that Biya practices a particularly insidious form of dictatorship—quiet, effective, and largely ignored by the international community. “This is because there is no strong political ferment to frighten him,” Amadi told Africa Is a Country. “I think Biya is largely successful because of the nature of Cameroonian society. The ethnic division and the lack of a history of active civil society have helped Biya sustain a quiet but effective dictatorship. The lack of strong and independent political parties means there is no effective opposition. Hence, the transition—whenever Biya dies or cannot continue—will be low-energy,” he said.

Today, Cameroonians remain sharply divided over Biya’s legacy. Kah Walla, leader of the Cameroon People’s Party and co-coordinator of the Stand Up for Cameroon consortium, says the country has stagnated in every sphere of life under Biya’s rule. “Economically, we have moved from a middle-income country to a highly indebted poor country. Agriculture, which used to drive our economy, has regressed in both quality and quantity,” Walla said. Politically, she argues that the Biya regime has “substantially” rolled back the country’s democratic liberties. “Socially, Mr. Biya inherited a peaceful country with one of the highest literacy rates in Africa, but today, non-state armed groups are active in five out of the ten regions, where they either control territory or terrorize the population.”

Across Cameroon and throughout the diaspora, frustration with Biya’s rule runs deep. In April, US-based activist Maybelle Boma launched the “1 Million Strong—President Paul Biya Must Go” campaign, which has already attracted more than half a million hashtags. She described the response as “overwhelming,” saying it reflects the widespread exhaustion among Cameroonians who are tired of corruption, collapsing infrastructure, a dysfunctional health care system, and rising tribalism. “When President Biya took power, he gave the people hope. But over time, that hope has been replaced by despair,” Boma told AIAC. “If it’s not corruption, it’s tribalism. If it’s not poor governance, it’s neglect. Cameroon has, sadly, become a global laughingstock.”

Eric Chinje and Dibussi Tande agree that the regime has consistently promised more than it has delivered. “The available data clearly indicates that Cameroonians are worse off today than they were 40 years ago; are very dissatisfied with their lot; and are less hopeful about what the future holds for them and their children,” said Dibussi. “In fact, many have lost all hope in the future. The Biya regime has failed Cameroonians.” Chinje adds that the evidence is plain to see: a civil war in the country’s two English-speaking regions, a stagnant and jobless economy, entrenched corruption, weak health and education systems, decaying infrastructure, collapsing urban centers, and a tattered international reputation—all stand as visible proof of a failed presidency.

“Mr. Biya came to office in 1982, inheriting a country which, by all indices, had one of the best economic prospects in Africa,” said Eric Chinje. “The Cameroon flag floated in the air, on land, and in the seas, with Cameroon Airlines (Camair), the Cameroon Transport Company (SOTUC), and Cameroon Shipping Lines (Camship), to mention only a few. That flag long came down; it needs to be raised and the country rebuilt.”

Still, some continue to defend Biya’s grip on the state. Political scientist Elvis Ngolle Ngolle argues that Cameroon’s institutions, laws, and national unity have remained intact under Biya, dismissing concerns that age may be weighing down on the President. “Capacity is more than just age,” he told Africa Is a Country. “Age is virtue, age is wisdom, and age is experience. Other variables come into play and may be more important than age.”

Another political scientist in the University of Buea, Dr Elvis Mbwoge, feels Biya deserves another seven-year mandate to “complete his mission for Cameroon.” “He can rule even beyond a hundred years. He is one of the few God-ordained leaders in the world,” Mbwoge told AIAC. He adds that questions around Biya’s candidacy defeat the very concept of democracy. “Cameroon is a sovereign state with uniqueness in everything, including politics,” he says. “There is no such thing as laid groundwork for dynastic succession in Cameroon, or there is a subtle shift within the regional dynamics of dynastic succession to happen in Cameroon.

“The constant power and influence wielded by Franck Biya is misinterpreted and misunderstood by detractors of that regime, who have termed such power as a possible power succession, which is untrue. However, as an adult citizen of Cameroon, Frank Biya has his human, civic and constitutional rights to become the Head of State if that is what he and the people want.”

Yet even among those who acknowledge Biya’s political endurance, there is growing recognition that the bigger risk lies ahead. Without a clear or legitimate mechanism for succession, the carefully controlled system that has held together for decades may begin to unravel. As Dr. Sam Amadi warns, “When Paul Biya is no more, Cameroon may sink into the abyss of chaos and conflicts. The shadowy powers sustaining his dictatorship could break into cliques and camps—and the anointed son may be incapable of holding them together.”

This uncertainty leaves ordinary Cameroonians watching with weary resignation, aware that decades of quiet control have brought stability at the cost of opportunity, transparency, and generational renewal. As Cameroon enters yet another election cycle under the long shadow of Paul Biya, the future remains clouded. The quiet, calculated grip he has maintained for more than four decades leaves the country’s next chapter dangerously undefined. Whether the system he constructed can outlive him without collapsing into chaos—or whether a new generation of leaders can bring meaningful change—is the question hanging on the lips of every Cameroonian. For now, citizens continue their daily struggle, caught between the weight of political inertia and the faint but persistent hope that the country they once dreamed of can still be rebuilt.