A Diary from Home Part II

By Tijan Nimaga, New York

After a warm welcome from every family member and friends, I wasted no time going to bed. The beautiful Gambian night life coupled with noise from neighbors added more joy to my first night at home. For nearly twenty years this kind of spiritual night life was absent from my immigrant life in the United Sates. While in bed I stared at the ceiling and began to enjoy the wonderful melody from the crickets as they compete. As a school boy, I hated their irritating nocturnal noise but that night, everything was special and the irritating noise felt like music that lulls one to sleep in a nostalgic trance. In fact, I began to enjoy their sounds  because it brought me so many fond memories. Then as I continued to think about what lies ahead the next day, I slowly fell asleep. As dawn approached, the competition between roasters began. It was not a surprise to me when cocks began to crow at predawn. This was something I enjoyed very much. I woke up and had my early morning prayers then prepared for the first morning in The Gambia after nearly twenty years.

My first morning in The Gambia after this extended hiatus was very special. I had the traditional Sarahule breakfast. As I sipped pap from the calabash my imagination drove me towards our colleague, Mathew K. Jallow. He would have loved to crack some jokes; common cultural jokes between Sarahules and Fulas especially, when it comes to eating that particular Sarahule morning meal. After breakfast, I headed to Serekunda. Standing on the roadside along the Kanifing highway, I realised that the usual morning commute was the same as I left it many years before Jammeh’s arrival on the political scene. Locals are still struggling or sometimes pushing one another just to get in the mini vans that ply the Banjul-Serekunda High way. There were also the profanities especially, among drivers and drivers and apprentices and apprentices and passengers. I looked towards Banjul and the infrastructural development along the road side of Kanifing towards Banjul was attractive-New Banks, DHL, Huge furniture warehouses, vehicle spare parts shops, clothing outlets and many others. To be candid, that area has developed but it could have developed more if more efforts were made by the government. I wanted to book a taxi to the Serekunda Market, but decided that it would be better to walk so I could see every development that people had claimed to have occurred in The Gambia during the past fifteen years. When I arrived at the West Field junction, to my amazement, the Mercedes Benz 190s are now the most common taxi-cabs. In the early 1980s, such vehicles in black were the fashion for members of the diplomatic corps and Cabinet Ministers. I reflected that Sir Dawda even owned some of that brand. As I stood in bewilderment, one scene captured my imagination at the defunct GUC compound. This place is now under NAWEC the nation’s only power company – a terrible monopoly by any standard! There was a very long line and I curiously went in and joined the queue only to hear what people would say. My plan worked. No sooner had I joined the thick line than a man in his late 60s began complaining about his utility bills."They are charging me more than what they charged me in my previous bill", he lamented. "I must thank God for had it not been my son in America; I would not be able to pay this bill", he claimed looking at me in the face.  Immediately after he mentioned America with an unusual stare into my face, I left the scene lest some one gets suspicious of my mission. Then I pretended as if I were looking for some one in the line. Similar complaints could be heard from almost everyone. Some were even trying to switch to a new system called Cash power. This is a non-meter reading electric service where consumers purchase an electronic card and when the card expires, power turns off automatically. Some Gambian consumers support this innovation because it gives them the chance to manage their income coupled with its unproblematic billing system. All one does is order a meter and the rest of the electric supply remains in one’s hand.

After attentively listening to what many had to say, I walked down towards the only Church in West Field, Kanifing. When I was leaving The Gambia in the early 90s, the junction towards Kairaba Avenue had nothing, but today there stands a Trust Bank and Traffic lights. It was here that I witnessed a female police officer shouting at the top of her voice on a driver who had just stopped to pick up a passenger at a no-stopping zone. The officer was doing her job very well but the question was why the government built a cubicle for officers to sit down. A police officer conducting traffic should be standing on the road but not sitting in a booth. When she had finished saying her nasty words to the driver, she seized his licence and walked away. Perplexed, I did not wait to see the end of it, but she walked away to a distant location which meant something I later learnt while enroute to Brikama.

The incident took place by Tabokoto when my driver to Brikama answered to a mobile phone call. The apparently hungry police officer who was looking for just that kind of violation screamed at the top of his voice; "stop the van right now"! He ordered. The driver who knew his offence, stopped immediately and the officer requested for his licence. "Do you know what you have just done? He asked. "I am very sorry" the drive, pleaded humbly. "No, park the vehicle and give me your driver's licence," he demanded forcefully. The poor, emaciated driver did just as ordered and like the police woman, he too walked away. Then I began to think why the police officer did not say what he had to say where the driver parked but just kept on walking. I asked the driver where the officer was headed and he admonished me to, "just wait.”  He then followed the officer. At this stage the apprentice began hauling profanities complaining about corruption and a rotten system. I then got off the van and pretended that I was going to buy something from a store just few meters from where the officer headed. To my utter dismay, I saw the driver handing him two hundred dalasi notes. The officer looked around to see if no one was watching then he gave him back his licence. I walked quickly to the other side of the vehicle and got on. When the police officer approached the van he began to feign seriousness towards the driver so that we the passengers would think he had taken the necessary procedures per traffic laws."Next time you commit such a violation you will have your licence suspended” he warned pretentiously. Then I said to myself whatever -after he gave you two hundred dalasis. It was at this moment that I realised what it meant when a Gambian police officer walks away from an offender and heads to an isolated location. Simply put, “bribes and I’ll let you go”.

So many things have changed within the Serekunda Market too but people’s attitude towards environmental and food hygiene has not changed much. Food items are still littered  on the floor with flies all over the area. It was when I began to ask for prices of basic commodities that I knew how hard our beloved country has become. Inside the market you could find many American and European goods especially fashionable clothes most of which were then sold only by N&N in Banjul. That store too is gone for good. To be honest with anyone who has not been to The Gambia for the past twenty years, you can almost find everything you want from America and Europe at the Kairaba Shopping Center. So I as continued on wandering in the Serekunda Market like a tourist, I realised that it was almost mid-day and it was time for me to go home.

But for all the time I spent in Serekunda, I saw many things beyond the scope of this diary. After my first day in The Gambia, I continued on with my private life, enjoying the company of my wife and friends. I also visited the much-talked about Paradise on the Kombo Coastal Road. No doubt, this area has witnessed a serious face lift which many Gambians call development but one thing the government must do, is, reduce the price of land there. The price of land at Coastal Road starts from D200, 000 and above. Imagine if one pays two hundred thousand dalasis on an empty land, how much would one pay for its development.  

Another piece of fascination the unending sackings. Each day I watched the TV or listened to the radio I would hear the usual announcement that such and such senior government official has been fired and replaced by another. I kept everything to myself until the day I left for the US.

On July 19th just few days before the July 22 numerous events, I decided to trek the rural areas to see for myself the condition of the roads. I can't remember what day it was, but I could remember when we were stranded in the traffic for nearly one hour-forty-five minutes. This particular day was the day that Col. Muhamar Gaddafi, the Libyan leader arrived in Banjul as the guest of honor for the July 22 anniversary. We were in a vehicle and all of a sudden; I heard a siren from a motorcycle which I knew was one of the presidential escort officials. Our driver pulled his van to the road side and explained that "President Yaya Jammeh is on the way to receive his guest of honor for this year’s July 22 anniversary". I was happy for I am lucky enough to at least, witness the Biscuit Party that every Gambian kid waits when President Yaya Jammeh is on the Highway. I politely suggested to the driver that it was very hot in the van and that with his kind permission; I wanted to exit the van to cool off. He agreed and as I stood along the deserted roadside, the second presidential motorcade passed while both sides of the tiny, dilapidated road were occupied by throngs of President Yaya Jammeh’s supporters and to be honest many were children, young people majority of them women. For the children and the young men it was predictable-the Biscuit Party! As I looked at the crowd with pity and amazement, a Toyota pickup sped pass with some soldiers, one standing with an AK-47 riffle in combat readiness. Then few minutes later, for the first time in my life, I saw President Yaya Jammeh standing at the view point of a black Hummer and the next thing I saw were biscuits flying in the air. Each biscuit he threw, the young men and the children pushed one another some on the ground and God knows only the strongest could get one. Transfixed at the way people responded to the biscuit party, one of the biscuits rolled on the opposite side of the road and one boy almost lost his life when he slipped, lost his balance and narrowly escaped a traumatic fall. Had he fell, a speeding military vehicle coming seconds after he stepped back, would have crushed him to death and based on information from some of the passengers, such tragic scenes are common in Jammeh’s biscuit parties. We waited patiently, the soldiers and the police force finally dispersed and so we continued on our trip peacefully. I was glad to have witnessed at least one Biscuit Party numerous tales of which I have heard from many people. After we passed Brikama, I was impressed with the way the highway looks. The road to Basse is wider than the previous one but as we continued, one old man warned me that I should not be very excited about this road because the contradictory evidence was within reach. The wider road, he added, ends at Sotokoi village and it is almost three years now since the white elephant project commenced. Arriving at Sotokoi, it was exactly as the old man had predicted. In some cases, the driver had to divert or detour the highway and stay on the roadside for miles and as he navigated these treacherous terrain, the vehicle plunged into huge pot holes that can flatten tires and cause serious accidents. As we continued on, I saw evidence of how much money The Gambia government wasted on security. Between Brikama and Soma, there are well over six police stations. Before I left The Gambia in 1990, there were just two police stations; one at Kalagi and the other at Soma. But today, one can't count the number of police stations on this bank of the River Gambia. I began to think why so much has been spent on security while paradoxically; the crime rate in the country has been worsening significantly. As I wondered and pondered over this issue, another issue exacerbated my confusion- schools! Did I say schools? Yes, today there are more schools in The Gambia than there are children to attend. As our van maneuvered through the potholes leaving behind a cloud of red dust that we frantically tried to cover ourselves from I remembered this once beautiful Gambian landscape.

After all the endless police stops, we finally arrived at Soma where I spent a week and then headed to Banjul. But this time I took the Farafenni-Bara route on the North Bank Region. Over there too it was a dusty road and one can clearly see some road construction workers either sitting down, idling or begging drivers some money to by Chinese green tea for Gambia’s popular brew- Ataya. Folks would brew and drink that tea the whole day. Sometimes you could even see some of them sleeping. I was angry but what can I do in a situation where no one seems to care. The workers did not know where the money being used to build the roads came from and I only wish they knew that it is the World Bank and not something that belongs to Yaya Jammeh.