On Tuesday the 26 would be Koriteh Day here in Maryland. And Inshallah as
years passed those of us in the Metro DC area would congregate at either the
Mosque at Mass Avenue in DC or the one at New Hampshire Ave in Suburban
Maryland. We will gather with fellow Muslims from the world over for the Eid
prayers. As usual the Imam would deliver the sermon and lead the prayers.
Even for less than perfect adherents like myself who let regular prayers slip
in the hustle and bustle of life in hectic America, Eid prayers has a special
feel to it. The Imam and the serenity of the congregation combine to be
powerful reminders of our faith and what is so glorious about it. Once again
we are reminded of what is really important about our lives as Muslims and
human beings. Additionally we are told of our responsibilities to   The
Almighty and our responsibility to our families, neighbors and fellow human
beings. If there is a down side to living in a prosperous and dynamic society
like the United States, it is the relative ease of being overwhelmed by
things other than what in the end really counts and that is our faith and
religious traditions. To be sure we do have very dedicated Gambians here who
have become our defacto Imams presiding over wedding and naming ceremonies,
providing Quranic recitations and counseling in times of grief and using
every opportunity to lecture us about the virtues of our faith. On Tuesday at
either of the two mosques, you will find us from among peoples from all over
the world, Pakistanis, Arabs, Americans and other Africans. The Gambians are
very quick to recognise their countrymen . Even from afar  our attire stands
unique from all else except for the Senegalese.
You will see us in small groups exchanging pleasantries, catching up on old
times. It is mostly a young crowd tinged by a handful of elder Alhagie's and
Ajaratous here on short family visits . They would graciously give the
extended Duwas that senior citizens give . There would also be the first
generation Gambian -Americans often in their teens and under.There would be
Baks Bojang, Salieu Sarr, Amie Samba  among many in toe with their parents in
their small outfits .Unlike the generation of their parents, these kids would
not be making the evening "Salibo'"rounds from the estimated 2000 Gambians in
the metro DC area. For starters they would need  to persuade one parent to
drive them around! After a while of exchanging pleasantries , picture taking
and video recording , we disperse and head home. Once outside the Mosque
grounds the atmospherics of Koriteh ends. Nothing on the streets remotely
reminds one of the day as we know it. We head home and celebrate quietly this
important Day. Friends come over and we share  meals and stories, call our
family and friends back home(a near impossible feat these days because
constantly busy signals).Usually and enterprising  guy or two would put
together a commercial Dance in a hall .Staying true to form , folks would
start showing up at 2.30 in the morning  for a dance advertised for
9.30.Normal life of work or school or both reverts for most of us the day
after Koriteh.
   In my hometown of Georgetown, Koriteh is a much different affair in the
days I was there. Everybody in town frantically tried to keep up with the
buzz and anticipation of the day. Parents, small businessmen , tailors and
ofcourse the kids all combined to create an alluring ambiance that captivates
the entire town. Depending on the season that Koriteh coincided with ,
homeowners would tidy up their courtyards and their section of the street.
This means either cutting the grass in the rainy season or sweeping and
raking in the dry season. On the morning of Koriteh itself, mothers would
wake up ealier than normal to do additional touch ups on household chores,
getting the "churai" on , fixing  breakfast and ironing the Khaftans and
other outfits to a crisp consistency. In my case it is one of two days my
father would permit use of the out- of-bounds perfume that is kept from the
kids. With neighbors we would throng north of town where the Eid praying
grounds are. We would sit and wait for the arrival of the Imam and his
entourage. Once the Imam gets there, Faraba Kamaso who for decades has served
as an aide to Imams specialising in amplifying the imams sermons to the rest
of the congregants who would otherwise not hear the Imam from distant corners
of either the mosque or the Eid Praying grounds would call the attention of
the congregants. From the front row next to the Imam, he would stand up and
with microphone in hand enquire from the gathered whether the five sections
of town were all present. (Wasulung, Sateba, Boraba, Met Camp and Fenteng
nghelesh are the five sections.) Residents of each section would acknowledge
their presence and he would finally ask if the Chief of the town was present
. The Imam would then lead the Prayer and sermons . We then disperse using an
alternate route back home  and that means following the Chief and his
delegation because he lives a street after ours. The chief is usually
accompanied by a group of kora players who serenade him with praise songs.
The rest of us tag along for the music atleast for the 20 minute walk back
home.As a kid I would change into casual clothes for the rest of the
afternoon waiting for a hearty meal and depending on how flush Dad was I can
expect a cup  of Santa Yalla Strawberry Soda with the  Koriteh Benachin. The
evenings for the kids is exclusively dedicated to Salibo rounds with priority
calls on relatives and family friends, to shopkeepers and chance givers.
Grownups generally pay courtesy calls to freinds and family and settle in
with lots of change for the stream of kids coming in for Salibo. Kids to a
large extent carry the spirit of the day on their faces, giggling and
frolicking. They spend the Salibo money mostly on sweets , Ice  and assorted
goods that appeal to them and can be purchased with the little change given
to them . There is usually a social dance party for yourg adults on Koriteh
night.
  The effects of nostalgia is for the most part predicated on how one
interprets your current circumstances. On the one hand I am grateful to be
living in a great country that offers me the freedom to pursue my want, on
the other I feel an eerie sense of nostalgia on days like Koriteh . Somehow
it just ain't the same. My neighborhood does not convey Koriteh and truth be
told I miss Gambia on this day.
   I would like to wish a merry Christmass to all. I would especially want to
extend season's greetings to a gentleman named Pa Dacosta. An honourable man
who took it upon himself to stand up and say what needed to be said regarding
the students that were brutally killed. We pray that a man of his calibre be
with us for a long  long time. The words he spoke are forever etched in the
collective memory of God fearing Gambians. When other self proclaimed
religious leaders were doing their best to either rationalise the wanton
murder of kids or hypocritically preaching calm and tolerance while
conveniently avoiding to lay blame at the only place it belonged, Pa Dacosta
did the right thing.
Karamba

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