Our Associate Editor MATHEW K. JALLOW was a close friend to two eminent Gambians that the country lost in the past three weeks Messrs: Lamin Sanneh erstwhile Permanent Secretary at the Department of state for Works & Infrastructure, and Musa Amadou Sey. Both Sanneh and Sey were old boys of  the Armitage High School and went on to be one of The Gambia’s most productive citizens. In the arresting eulogy below, Mathew looks back at their meritorious lives. 

Musa Sey: He Was A Jolly Good Fellow

 Last week it was Lamin Sanneh, a soft-spoken man of a positively reputable character and a disposition not to waste many words unless he had to. The venerable Lamin Sanneh was measured in everything he did, and as bureaucrats go, he was a consummate replica of authority, and he reveled in the positions he held in government without being arrogant or aloof. His trademark suit and tie and his distinctive walking strides made him stand out and distinguished from everyone else around him. The dignity he projected in the way he carried himself mirrored his royal taste for adulation, yet like most of us, he was aware he too was very much a product of the poor under-class. Unlike Musa Sey, however, Sanneh’s demise is inextricably linked with the character and the cruel underbelly of this Jammeh regime gone awry; a regime whose taste of blood has left it persistently hungry for more. Like the others who preceded him in their untimely and still unaccountable deaths, Lamin has earned his place in our hall of martyrs, as our symbol of resistance and a monument to a story that our country would rather forget.

Where Lamin Sanneh represented a closed book that one had to read to be able to understand, Musa Sey’s character was as open as the wide expanses of the Sahara desert. With Musa Sey, what you saw was what you got; a man without a need of secrets to keep or hide, living an incredibly simple life unadulterated by the complexities of life’s daily nuisances, but above all, a man who carried his love not only in his heart, but in the invisible silhouette that surrounded him. In his openness, Musa Sey became an enigma who made many people gravitate towards him and embrace his plain and simple apolitical life. In so many ways, Musa Sey was very much the modern day pipe piper, for wherever he went, wherever he sat, he attracted curious people who were often fascinated by his unpretentiousness and down-to-earth mannerism. Unlike most of us, Musa Sey has learnt to transcend the divisive politics of tribe and other differentiating qualities that continue to consume and perhaps paralyze so many of us. Musa was renowned for his verbosity and penchant to use words in English that most of his listeners did not understand; never even heard of, and in that way he showed a side of him that perhaps sought validation or recognition or both. If there was anyone who lived in a world without borders, it was Balla Musa Sey, for he lived the life that the R & B group, the Temptations, and the blues legend Muddy Waters immortalized in song: the Rolling Stone. He belonged everywhere he went, and was perhaps the only man that complete strangers would turn into quick acquaintances in a short space of time. His circles of friends were found to be everywhere; and he came and went unannounced, yet the sight of him in the distance more often than not generated excitement, euphoria and a festive mood among his friends and acquaintances, because truth be told, Musa was the best company one could keep. During all the times we shared in locations far and wide; from Basse to Banjul and from Brikama to Bakau and everywhere in between, he had never once raised his voice in anger. His kindness to friends and strangers alike, and his generous spirit are legendary; endearing him to everyone he came in contact with. In life as in death, Musa Sey is truly a larger than life character; the closest The Gambia has to the legendary Harvard University professor, Timothy Leary. Musa Sey has his share of the younger adoring generation who looked up to him, much as Ebou (Jew) Janha was to James Alkali Gaye, the rest of our idealistic clique and I back in the seventies and early eighties. And whether he knew it or not, Musa Sey was to a degree one of the iconic originators of the social paradigm we lived by in the seventies and early eighties, which in the process, helped to fulfill not only our primal needs for love and affection, but also the dichotomous social values of education and entertainment. But, if there is one thing that made Musa Sey stand taller than everyone else, it is that he became the quintessential metaphor for blindness to the prejudices that continue to define our lives. Until he took his last breath, Musa Sey continued to steadfastly refuse to be defined by the narrow characteristics of tribe and geographic origin, and in that way, he unwittingly became the mystic figure that everyone, everywhere admired and loved. The Gambia has lost two great sons.

Bye Lamin, and bye Musa.