Where do I come from, where am I going...

My name is Salomon Firmin Owona and I was born in Cameroon in 1981.
My earliest memories are of the sunny days in Yaoundé:
the taste of red earth when I played in the yard,
the electric shock when I curiously experimented with the socket,
my mom coming home tired but smiling from work,
my sister talking to her friend for hours.
We were a cheerful bunch, always looking for
new adventures.

In 1989 I came to Germany with my mother and siblings
— to my father and my sister Patricia.

I didn't really want to leave Cameroon,
but my sister Ginette lured me with a
bicycle and convinced me.
I remember exactly that cold
winter morning in Erkrath-Hochdahl.
Everything was sterile, so foreign — no colors,
no warmth.
Everyone looked at us as if we were not from
this world.
My mom was not treated well at the airport,
the officers' glances were cold and dismissive.
It was very cold, not just the weather —
an emotional coldness that I will never forget.
Nevertheless, there was also this excitement — starting a new life.

Arriving was not a single event.
It was a long, sometimes painful process.
I learned to adapt, to build bridges
and at the same time to preserve my roots.

I grew up in Erkrath-Hochdahl.
Elementary School Sandheide, where I found my first friends —
but also where I experienced my first real fight.
I can remember a blow to the head,
after I insisted that a writing utensil belonged to me.
That was apparently not accepted by someone.
I was unconscious. I just don't know for how long.
I never told my parents about it.
Realschule Hochdahl — a place full of trauma.
My history teacher had instructed another student,
a few classes above me, Indian or Pakistani (I don't remember anymore),
to hit me.
I was already strong and well-trained for my age.
The teacher was present. I just stood there.
The situation was very disturbing.
The same teacher had beaten up a boy in the hallway during the same school year.
That was the 90s at the Realschule.
Nevertheless, I started asking questions there.
Later, the Higher Commercial School in Hilden,
where I learned that knowledge is power.

The annual summer vacations as a child were varied.
Sometimes I went to a youth camp,
or I just wandered from basketball hoop to basketball hoop with friends.
It was never boring.
Stories of flights to exotic islands or to Gran Canaria
I never had to tell like other children.
But that was okay.
Only strange that none of these wealthy classmates
knew the African continent.
What accompanied me early on was self-learning.
Not as a glamorous choice, but as pure necessity.
When you look different and speak differently,
you have to be better to keep up.
From this necessity became passion –
the joy of discovering, understanding, growing.

I observe, test, understand.
Whether music, technology, trade, or people —
everything is a big experiment to me.
Why do people do what they do?
What drives them? What holds them back?
These questions have occupied me for years.

I like jogging around the swimming lake.
Not for fitness, but for clarity.
With every step, I sort thoughts,
check my stats on the sports watch,
and ask myself: Am I still on the right path?

I am a father of three children:
Afidi, Otis, and Salomon Jr.
They are my anchor in this unsteady world.
When everything around me changes,
they remind me of what really counts:
Love, laughter, unconditional acceptance.
They ground me more than any concept,
any philosophy, any success.

I would go through fire for my family,
because I know they would do the same for me.
I am difficult because I am the youngest among the siblings,
but still loud — in African cultures, younger ones don't have much to say.
Nevertheless! I have always raised my voice,
spoken my opinion, followed my dreams.
That has shaped me: respectful towards elders,
but never silent in the face of injustice.