Letter of Fr James Nielen to Archbishop Paul Verdzekov, Bamenda. Your Grace, Last night, Saturday night, I came back from Nyos. On Friday rumours reached us that the Lake had killed some Fulani man and his cows. Then again that the quarterhead of Cha was lying dead in his compound, with his two women. On Saturday morning I was so worried that I went there with my two catechists, Sylvester and Hortensia, and with Madame Rosina Jam. We climbed by car to lse, which is high on top, overlooking the Nyos valley. We thought to get information there, but all the men had gone to Nyos. We could not take the road down which passes near the Lake, so we took the other road which hits the ringroad between Cha and Nyos. In the first compound we entered, we found eight people dead: a child and her mammy lying very peacefully outside with the dog; in one house a big, fat Pa had tried to crawl to the door; two other young men were lying on the floor. We rushed to Mr. Vincent Zong's compound. He is the Government teacher, who once asked you if he could join the Juju dancing group. His wife, Mary, is head of our Lifeschool in Nyos. They had, after years of waiting and praying, finally got a boy, their fifth child. Vincent was lying dead with his son, Mary with the baby in the next room; in the children's room the three girls. Little Jacqueline who attended school in lse, had come down for her holidays. All dead! We rushed on past all the houses in the Nyos market square. All the houses were still locked. We knew that everybody was dead behind these closed doors. We rushed on to the Mission. There we found Nazarius, our catechist, as if he was saying his prayers, his head on the bed, the bed where I usually sleep when I visit the place. Four of his brothers had come from the coast to visit him. He was their elder brother. All dead. One had a beautiful watch on which had stopped at 1.00 a.m. Sylvester stayed behind with Hortensia to bury the catechist. He was their cousin. I joined a motorcar of some Fulani man who was hurrying to Subum, to see if his family was alive or dead. Subum is 7 kilometres farther on the Ringroad. I only went as far as the Mission. I opened the door and found Lawrence, the catechist, lying on the bed, cold as ice. I shouted: "Anthony! Anthony!". I had sent Anthony, one of our seminarians at Fundong, to help the catechist during his holidays. There were some children playing in the Mission, children belonging to Winifred Ateh who is midwife in Subum. Anthony answered! He had survived! He was digging a grave for Lawrence and for Pa Thomas. Anthony told me: he and Lawrence were still sitting in the lean-to kitchen, when something held his breathing. He struggled to get into the house, where he collapsed on the bed. At about one in the night he managed to wake up and look for Lawrence. Lawrence was lying outside. He managed to carry him into the house. Then he fell back on his own bed again. His chest was hurting so much and he felt very weak. He must have been half conscious right into Friday, until he finally got up and started to do the only reasonable thing there was to do: to dig a grave for Lawrence. Then, too, he found out that other people had died: Pa Thomas, the old head Christian living across from the Mission, and the midwife's sister in law. A big motorcar passed carrying wounded people from Subum to Wum. I jumped on the back of the truck, a truckload full of dazed people. Peter Frum, the driver, said there must be more than a hundred dead people in the village of Subum. In Nyos simply all people had died, except one Pa and one boy, who had slept a little higher up the mountain.
There may have been 500 people sleeping in Nyos that night, because Thursday had been a market day and people from all sides attended the market. Some had gone back, others had stayed and died, because they slept in Nyos that night. No Christian of Nyos came to greet me and cry with me. The church of Nyos had died, with Mattias, the head Christian and Nazarius, the catechist and Mary, the choir mistress. I wanted to continue past Nyos to the other village on the other side, Cha, about 11 kilometres away. But in Nyos I met Father Fred ten Horn from Wum. He had come with the S.D.O. who had stopped at Cha, because he was afraid. Martin, the catechist of Cha, had survived. He was sitting on the road, crying that he had beaten the drum and that no Christian had come to church. This is what I surmise has happened: Gas from under the Lake has accumulated until it shot out down the slope into the village of Nyos. It must have penetrated right through every house in Nyos. There was no difference between people inside or outside their houses. Then it must have filled up the valley, spreading out. It still had power to kill people at Subum on the one side and Cha on the other. The gas may be building up again. I have heard that the Governor wants all people to leave the valley. Bafmeng has lost three outstations. Pray for our catechists and all our dear Christians who have died ....