By Mathew K Jallow, Associate Editor 

It is hard to believe that in early 1991, there were only a few independent newspapers in The Gambia: The Gambia Onward, The Nation and a few others. Then, along came The Point Newspaper. And much later, in 1992, The Daily Observer Newspaper was birthed. Since then, a proliferation of newspapers at home and overseas, has put The Gambia among the countries with the highest per capita newspaper ratio. Today, Gambians have developed a vociferous appetite for reading and an unquenchable thirst for information and knowledge. Even when the desire and passion to inform fellow citizens became a prohibitively dangerous enterprise under the Jammeh regime, we found a way by out by establishing inarguably Africa’s most effective online media outlets; albeit so far away from our homeland. But, it all had a beginning. And the variety of media tentacles all go back to one source; The Nation Newspaper. And yes, the reverend Mr. Dixon Colley, whose name is not a symbol, but a synonym with Gambian media and journalism. The genial, affable and gregarious Mr. Dixon Colley is the true personification of an iconoclastic character, with his signature hat and an easy smile that exudes infinite love for all things human.

Mathew K. Jallow, Associate Editor

No Gambian has had an impact on modern Gambian print journalism as Mr. Colley did. Not the once fiery Jawara nemesis, Ba Tarawalley. Not the quite grand-fatherly Mr. Jones of Grant Street. Not even the diminutive and energetic Mr. Allen. And, when my friend, Nana Grey-Johnson, came along in the late 1980’s and established The Topic Magazine, the culture of reading in our country had not developed to the level that could financially sustain the magazine. But, that did not prevent Mr. Nana Grey-Johnson from establishing himself as inarguably one of Gambia’s finest writers; one I would tip my hat to. But, the legacy of Mr. Dixon Colley is more than just The Nation Newspaper. By far, his most enduring legacy is the people whom he helped to nurture and whose development journalistically, he influenced and impacted. They are a veritable kaleidoscope of writers, which includes Deyda Hydara, Demba Jawo, Momodou Sillah of The Gambia Journal, Pap Saine, and of course, yours truly, among many others. Now I cannot even remember the circumstances surrounding my first meeting with Mr. Colley, nor do I remember where we met, and to me frankly, that is no longer important anyway.

When I first met Mr. Colley, I was an angry young man with much to say but without any outlet or platform to express myself politically. My fascination with socialist dogma and the draw and illusion of the impossible utopian society was fast fading from memory. In my mind, a new battle cry was evolving out of the ashes of Marxist socialism; and it was social justice. I had never dabbled in Keynesian economics and Adam Smith’s theory of wealth; a theory defined by self interest, but the world outlook that they illustrated in the much acclaimed writings bequeathed to us, became my battle flag. Not that I knew much about either John Maynard Keynes or Adam Smith at that point in time, but as a young man, Mr. Colley did, without even knowing it, help my transition from a raw, raging and unbending socialist indoctrinaire, to a rationalist capitalist world outlook. Granted, media voices then did not have the potency and force of conviction of today’s media, the simple fact that I found a new way to express myself politically through the pages of The Nation Newspaper, offered me an opportunity to vent my frustration against Jawara’s docile and kleptomaniac governments. The Nation Newspaper was the rediscovery of my dissenting voice and a new home for political self expression after losing my voice at Yundum College’s Student Voice newspaper, following my expulsion from College. I was a young man who had no idea where I was heading to, from Sare Gainako, a village no one knew, ever heard of, or cared less about, trying to secure my rightful place in our stratified and maligning Gambian society; a society in which only political power and material wealth defined the worth of a person. Gambia represented everything that Mr. Colley detested, and the war cry of his editorials echoed the torment and frustrations in his heart.

Mr. Colley and I met many mid-mornings around MacCarthy’s Square or the Post Office, because that is how predictable and disciplined he was. Anyone who knew Mr. Colley could easily make him out from a crowd by the signature features that set him apart from everyone else; the little hat, the lumbering elephant gait and a smile that always adorned a dark face, contrasted sharply by a two rows of bright teeth seldom found on a man of his advanced age. The discussion of current events always animated Mr. Colley, but it was his encyclopedic knowledge and his narration of the past that always impressed me about him. And when I recounted my exploits as a rebellious anti-government student, he was polite to listen intently, but little did I know that my story was a mirror image of his own life. Without a doubt, my moments of pride always came whenever I saw Mr. Colley read through whatever I have for publication. On one particular occasion, after reading my piece, he turned on someone and said; “this young man will go places.” Well, Mr. Dixon Colley, I now have arrived there, and we are ready and able to take our country; this country you gave so much to, to where your dream for it still rests unfulfilled. And if that day comes, your tall, dark, bronze statue will hopefully adorn the Gambia High School round-about, and facing east towards Koina and Sutukoba, to proudly welcome visitors to a different Banjul and The Gambia that you always dreamt for us all.