Bantaba in Cyberspace
Bantaba in Cyberspace
Home | Profile | Register | Active Topics | Active Polls | Members | Private Messages | Search | FAQ | Invite a friend
Username:
Password:
Save Password
Forgot your Password?

 All Forums
 Politics Forum
 Politics: Gambian politics
 Gambia on the Move
 New Topic  Reply to Topic
 Printer Friendly
| More
Author Previous Topic Topic Next Topic  

Momodou



Denmark
11525 Posts

Posted - 03 Aug 2017 :  10:14:48  Show Profile Send Momodou a Private Message  Reply with Quote
Gambia on the Move
By Baba Galleh Jallow


It’s Saturday, July 01, 2017. We left my lodgings at 4:04 am and got to Banjul at 4:45, so we could catch the first ferry to Barra. We are packed at the Banjul ferry terminal, waiting to cross to Barra for my first trip to Farafenni in many years. The drive from Brufut to Banjul was almost effortless. But God, we turned into Wellington Street, the pathway to the Banjul Ferry Terminal. I could not believe my eyes. The street was one big pool of muddy water. It was impossible to believe that a street in the middle of our capital city was this bad. It was almost a series of lakes and muddy mini mountains through which cars have to wade and wobble to access the ferry terminal.

Many times I find myself holding my mouth, peering around me, wondering, whatever happened to this dear little country. The people look visibly relieved that the tyranny that oppressed their lives for so long is now gone. But they also seem strangely traumatized, dazed. You could almost feel the sense of both naked despair and elation in the air. There is a certain turbulence in the calm. A certain ugly in the beauty. People look calm, but their eyes bear the scars of pain. Their fear of the dead dictatorship is yet to dissipate. Their sense of desperation is lifting. But it remains visible on gaunt faces. The taut skin speaks of tiredness, of fatigue born of twenty two years of fear, of watchfulness, of a sense of desperate bondage that threatened to last one billion years. One remembers calling friends in Gambia and mentioning Yahya Jammeh and being told in frightful tones, “hey, bayil lollu. Bul tuda koku” (hey stop that. Don’t mention that name) followed by nervous laughter. It had grown so bad that ordinary Gambians were afraid to mention the name Yahya Jammeh in public. For fear of being overhead and picked up by the NIA, Jammeh’s secret police and their ubiquitous network of informers planted in every nook and cranny of Gambian society. What on earth justifies such mad obsession with policing society as if people were some dangerous monsters? Perhaps, the strange mixture of fear and elation on people’s faces speaks of a cautious optimism that things can only get better than they were for the past two decades.

I walked past a small group of elderly men standing around in a small circle, speaking in Mandinka. They were talking about Yahya Jammeh. I came back again and stopped, just outside their small circle. I was shamelessly snooping, knowing that my presence would not stop those determined elders from having their noisy say in the new Gambia. In the old Gambia, they would not have been talking about Yahya Jammeh at all, except perhaps to exclaim how great he was.

“They burnt all the ballots,” one was saying. “Yae bae le jani!” (They burnt all of them!)

“Around Darsilameh too,” another retorted, “lots of ballots were burned. Senegali yeng maakoi le deh!” (Senegal helped us a lot).

“Senegal and Gambia are the same,” another added. “There are Fulolu in Senegal and Fulolu in Gambia; there are Mandinkolu in Senegal, and Mandinkolu in Gambia. Mbay moh killing!” (We are all the same people!).

“But are not all people the same?” another agreed.

“You know what the Nigerian president told his soldiers?” someone asked.

Everyone said hmmn, hmmn, in anticipation of the juicy bit of information.

“He told them if you go don’t do anything. If they shoot you, shoot back; if not, don’t do anything.”

“They were going to catch him,” another suggested in a confident tone. “Not a single shot would have been fired!”

“That’s what he knew! That’s why he ran away.”

The elders laughed and one of them said: “Gambia diyaa taleh. Gambia diyaa taleh.” (Gambia is sweet. Gambia is sweet).

I was pleasantly surprised to hear that statement. Yes, Gambia is sweet. In the months, weeks and days leading up to my trip, I did not know what to expect. I had been away so long that I found it hard to imagine how anything looked like. When I said this in a WhatsApp text message to my good friend and former Gambia High School classmate, Omar Gaye (Banaa) responded in his characteristic witty and confident style, “You will be pleasantly surprised.” And yes I am pleasantly surprised at the new Gambia. I could not fail to notice our society’s youthfulness. I could not fail to notice the confident beauty of the people, the respectful way in which ordinary Gambians in the street treat each other. I could not fail to notice how the very many young traffic police officers around the Kombos are so relaxed in their interactions with the bustling public and motorists. I could not fail to notice the youthful sense of purpose; a certain businesslike manner that, in a strange and interesting kind of way, strikes me as a spitting image of the new Gambia. There is certainly something new and beautiful in the air. Yes, we do have many problems and some serious challenges. But I can feel that Gambia is on the move.

I was disoriented for the first few days after my arrival. I had thought I would feel like a stranger, and I do feel like a stranger. Yet I feel perfectly at home. This land is my land, these people are my people, the very laid back, smiling, carefree Gambians I had left behind seventeen years ago. The magic is that they all seem to have grown younger and more beautiful! Yes, most people I know have visibly aged. But elderly people seem almost invisible in the Greater Banjul Area. Almost eight out of ten people I see on a daily basis are young. It is good to feel the vibrant energy. I remember my good friend and colleague Dr. Pierre Gomez telling me during the impasse that Jammeh’s fall was largely due to “the Jammeh Generation.” I now see what he means by the Jammeh generation. I now see that Jammeh was outgrown by Gambian society. While he was busy grabbing and hoarding the vestiges of power, Gambians were growing up, mushrooming in a manner he was totally blind to. And when it became necessary to topple the tyrant, the Jammeh generation was there to help execute the feat, to tear his posters down from billboards, and to shout in his ears that Gambia Has Decided! The sight of graffiti proclaiming “Gambia has Decided!” and “Jammeh Must Go!” around the Kombos stirs a warm feeling in the heart and tells you in no uncertain terms that Gambia is on the move. Our challenge is to make it move in the right direction. And we will do just that.

Back in the car at the Banjul ferry terminal, I think I recognize traces of Jammeh’s NIA. I could see that blank indifference in the eyes of a couple of men. I was almost certain that they are former NIA, now the benign and restrained SIS (State Intelligence Service). I have pondered over the wisdom of keeping what used to be the NIA in a post-Jammeh Gambia. Perhaps to help thwart any evil plans by the former despot to destabilize the new government? Anyway, as I sat in the front seat of my car and started typing these thoughts on my laptop, one of the men I suspect to be ex-NIA agents walked over and planted himself right in front of the car. He was talking on the phone, or pretending to do so, eating a sandwich, and making small talk with passers-by at the same time by saying things like eh boy ibedee? Waw nakam? Mbinaa mbinaa mbinaa. Hey hey naa jang naa jang! It was clear that he was watching me, all the while pretending not to be doing any such thing. In by-gone days, he might have come over to ask what was I writing about, or perhaps “invite” me to go with him to NIA headquarters. And I would have had to go. There, I would be asked to sit on a dry chair. And I would be asked a long series of silly questions. Then I would be asked to sit on a wooden bench. And I would be forced to watch an ugly system creaking and cracking and screeching around all day long. That was how it was back in the day. Maybe now they would have just sent me to the torture chamber. In any case, I was spared that sad eventuality. Nii mang kukeh kutela is back!


A clear conscience fears no accusation - proverb from Sierra Leone

Momodou



Denmark
11525 Posts

Posted - 09 Aug 2017 :  10:31:03  Show Profile Send Momodou a Private Message  Reply with Quote
Gambia on the Move – II

By Baba Galleh Jallow


There is no doubt that the new Gambia is faced with a myriad of complex problems. Our economy is broken. Our civil service is broken. Our educational system is in shambles. We still grapple with power cuts and water shortages. Our streets are in a horrible mess. The cult of personality is rampant in our public institutions. One hears stories of strange personal vendettas and vicious infighting within some of our most important public institutions. And one hears and sees instances of blatant corruption bred by a dysfunctional socio-economic and political system that manufactures poverty even as it tries to create wealth and maintain sanity in society. But change is surely in the air and Gambians are doing what they can to manage this change and move it in the right direction.

African history is full of examples of national socio-economic and political failures. Many African societies have emerged from civilian or military dictatorships only to fall right back into them, or degenerate into a state of chronic rancor and disorder. Post-regime change eras are often chaotic because neither state nor society had any idea what comes next. The pre-change era was characterized by a stony determination to change the system. But no thought was given to what happens after the system change. It is delightful to note that the new Gambia is poised to be an exception to this dismal rule. Gambians have been thinking of the post-Jammeh era for many years now. They had grown to morally detest the bully state. And they had yearned and advocated for a state of democracy and the rule of law. In spite of itself, the fallen dictatorship foisted a common identity on Gambian society. It united us in our hatred of injustice. And it convinced us of the power of calm, dignified noncompliance with political despotism. Yes there are many problems in the new Gambia. But yes, Gambians are tackling these problems head on through a vibrant national discourse. That is our saving grace as a nation, and we are determined to nurture this beautiful spirit of open and honest discourse in the new Gambia.

One has a sense that the new Gambia is emerging into a beautiful model for African countries. During the impasse heavily armed soldiers in the streets of Banjul and the Kombos were calmly confronted by a quietly confident and totally defiant population. People simply went about their daily business and let the armed soldiers be. There were no loud and angry protestations that characterized such scenarios in other countries. There were no stone or missile attacks, no verbal outbursts against a bully state that literally had it finger on the trigger and just waited for an opportunity to open fire. The unjust authorities were treated with the calm and silent contempt they deserved and in the end, Jammeh’s oppressive apparatus simply collapsed into oblivion and eternal political infamy. There is a certain dignified presence in the air that makes one truly happy to be a Gambian.

The new Gambia is not going to fall back into dictatorship. There are almost zero fears of that. And it is unlikely to descend into a state of ethnic and political acrimony of the kind that has devastated so many African societies. This is partly because Gambians are actively engaged in a vibrant discourse on all issues of national concern. We are talking on social media, on the very many FM radio stations, on GRTS, and on the pages of our increasingly vibrant national newspapers. It is a beautiful and reassuring reality that Gambians now publicly express their opinions without looking over their shoulders. They publicly criticize their government. And they publicly bring up issues that they feel are of primary national importance without looking over their shoulders. It is pleasing to note that over twenty-two years of dictatorship, Jammeh never succeeded in stopping Gambians from having their noisy say, whether he liked it or not. This culture of free expression predated Jammeh, it has survived Jammeh and now publicly blossoms with reassuring vengeance in the new Gambia. There is no topic left behind. There are no sacred cows. And there are no unnamable personalities. Broken is the infamous sword of Damocles hanging over their heads, and Gambians are engaged in a serious if often heated conversation over their national destiny. One has a sense of a forward looking, forward moving society determined to advance in a measured and sensible manner even as people vehemently disagree and squabble over all kinds of personal, ethnic, economic and political issues.

It is refreshing to see that in the new Gambia, there is a noticeable collapsing of the power distance that existed between state and society during the Jammeh days. It no longer feels as if the government is some hostile behemoth perched on the sharp pinnacle of power, whip in hand, sneering and glaring at the people down below. It is encouraging to see that Gambian society is totally relaxed in its encounter with state presence and cordial in its encounter with itself. The society projects a spirit of calm determination tempered with a certain civility that promotes a sense of national dignity and inspires confidence in our capacity to succeed in spite of the many formidable challenges.

In the final analysis, Gambians seem to understand that our success in taking our country to the next level depends on our success in acknowledging and embracing diversity in all its various manifestations. Particularly important is that Gambians are increasingly recognizing and embracing the reality of different political players and idiosyncratic actors in our national drama. We are recognizing and embracing the fact that each player on the national stage has the right to express their legitimate opinion and if we do not agree with each other, we will just agree to disagree. And we increasingly recognize that the vision towards which we move as a nation is accessible through any number of channels and strategies, some of which may appear to be useless dead ends. At the same time, Gambians seem to recognize and embrace the reality that tensions are an inevitable part of national politics and the national discourse; and that our salvation as a people depends very much on our capacity to manage and neutralize these tensions in open and creative ways. One has a sense that the new Gambia is capable of doing just that with flying colors.

A clear conscience fears no accusation - proverb from Sierra Leone
Go to Top of Page
  Previous Topic Topic Next Topic  
 New Topic  Reply to Topic
 Printer Friendly
| More
Jump To:
Bantaba in Cyberspace © 2005-2024 Nijii Go To Top Of Page
This page was generated in 0.08 seconds. User Policy, Privacy & Disclaimer | Powered By: Snitz Forums 2000 Version 3.4.06