There is a question that the authorities in Yaoundé have so far avoided answering plainly: who really pushed for the return of the Vice President of the Republic?

On paper, the answer appears straightforward. President Paul Biya initiated the constitutional amendment that brought back the office abolished in 1972. Parliament subsequently approved it in April 2026, giving the Vice President a potentially decisive constitutional role as the successor to the Head of State in the event of death, resignation or permanent incapacity.

But politics is rarely as simple as the official paperwork suggests. If this was genuinely President Biya’s personal political project, then Cameroonians deserve to know why the idea became urgent now. Why, after decades without a vice-presidency, did the regime suddenly decide that the country’s constitutional architecture was incomplete? And why has the office remained vacant? That question has become even more difficult to ignore.

At the end of December 2025, President Biya promised that a new government would be formed “in the coming days.” Months later, Cameroon still has no new post-election government. Yet, in the midst of this institutional uncertainty, the authorities found the political energy and parliamentary machinery to amend the Constitution and create a new office whose principal significance is succession.

That juxtaposition deserves scrutiny. If it was Biya’s idea, where is Biya’s Vice President?

The President has the constitutional power to appoint the Vice President. The office was therefore not created as an independent institution beyond his control. It was created as an institution whose occupant depends entirely on the President’s choice. Yet months after its restoration, there is still no Vice President.

This creates a remarkable political paradox. The regime told the country that the new office was necessary for institutional continuity. But when the President subsequently spent more than two months abroad, the country still had no Vice President. Biya returned to Yaoundé on August 20 after more than ten weeks away, while the position remained vacant. If the Vice Presidency was principally about guaranteeing continuity, the prolonged vacancy raises a very obvious question: Continuity for whom, and for what purpose? Was the Vice Presidency really about succession? The timing is impossible to ignore.

Cameroon entered 2026 after one of the most contested presidential elections in its recent history. Issa Tchiroma Bakary challenged the official outcome and claimed victory, while the government maintained that Biya had won another term.

Biya, at 93, is the world’s oldest serving head of state. Against that backdrop, restoring an office that automatically places its holder at the centre of presidential succession cannot reasonably be treated as an ordinary administrative reform.

It is a succession reform. And succession is ultimately about power. This is precisely why the public deserves more than the official explanation that the Vice President will guarantee stability. Stability is the stated reason. Who benefits from the new constitutional arrangement is the more important question.

So who was behind the idea? There are multiple possibilities, but they should not be confused with established facts in Yaoundé. Maybe the idea originated with President Biya himself and reflects his assessment that the constitutional succession mechanism needed strengthening. It could be also that senior officials around the presidency persuaded Biya that the old system was too risky. Likely influential figures within the ruling CPDM establishment saw an opportunity to shape the succession before the inevitable transition at the top. Perhaps the proposal emerged from competing interests around the Biya family and the wider power network that has grown around the Unity Palace. Or imaginably several of these forces converged on the same conclusion.

At present, publicly available evidence establishes who formally submitted the proposal, but it does not establish who first conceived it, who lobbied for it inside the presidency or who influenced the precise constitutional design.  And that is exactly where serious journalism should begin. The unanswered question of the presidency! The most revealing development may therefore not be the creation of the Vice Presidency itself, but what happens next.

Who will be appointed? Why that person? When will the appointment be made? What political constituency will the appointee represent? And, most importantly, who will have persuaded President Biya that this particular person should stand next to him at the top of the succession ladder?

These questions matter because the Vice President under the new arrangement is not merely another government official. The office potentially determines who inherits the presidency when the current occupant can no longer continue. That makes the identity of the future Vice President a matter of national interest.

A nation deserves to know who is designing its succession

For more than four decades, Cameroon has operated around the extraordinary political longevity of one man. The question of what comes after Paul Biya has consequently been one of the country’s most sensitive political questions. The reintroduction of the Vice Presidency has now brought that question into the Constitution itself. But instead of clarifying the succession debate, the reform has arguably made it more intriguing.

If the office was urgently required to protect institutional continuity, why has it not yet been filled? If it was designed with succession in mind, why has the President not identified the person who will eventually stand first in line?

And if President Biya was indeed the sole driving force behind the reform, why has nobody publicly explained what changed his mind after decades without a Vice President?

Cameroon should not have to rely on rumours, Unity Palace whispers and social-media speculation to understand a constitutional change of this magnitude. The CPDM Central Committee should tell the country: Who proposed the Vice Presidency? Who pushed for it? Who advised the President? Who drafted the political strategy behind it? And whose interests does the new succession architecture ultimately serve? Until these questions are answered, the official explanation of “continuity” will remain incomplete. Because in Yaoundé, as in every political capital, the most important question is sometimes not who signed the document, but who persuaded the person holding the pen.

By Soter Tarh Agbaw-Ebai