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Subject:
From:
Omar Hatab <[log in to unmask]>
Reply To:
The Gambia and related-issues mailing list <[log in to unmask]>
Date:
Wed, 14 Mar 2001 23:43:51 -0000
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LIFE IN OUR LITTLE TOWN – Part Two
By Baba Galleh Jallow

These silent ones were men and women of great wisdom and experience. However
in our little town, survival, in our true sense of that word, demanded more
than wisdom and experience. To be in the real swing of things and perfectly
in line in our little town, you needed more brawn than brains, more muscle
than experience. That was why our gentle Norpil Degalas and Fangkung
Mofiseshs decided, at some sad point in time, to withdraw into the
background and watch the never-ending drama in our little town with guarded
interest.  Once in a while, they groaned and sighed and shook their heads
and sadly smiled, but otherwise remained very quiet. They were always
misunderstood and no longer felt comfortable in our modern world of facts,
facts and more hard undiluted facts.
Then there were our great and famous intelligentsia, or in simpler jargon,
the most intelligent ones of our little town. These were really the cream of
the crowd, the pride of the peacock - the Liontalk Rathearts and Irondo
Littlemoves, the Tarpet Honhabots and Gisyeb Yotals, the Foday Tulukilings
and Londiti Nungfetengs. These our special folks were not only
intellectually active, but also physically robust. Often times, they could
be seen in their favourite tails and ties, their hippo-hide boots, their
expensive Parker pens tucked proudly in their breast pockets, marching
proudly up and down, up and down, a permanent smile on their slightly
slanted lips, which gave them a rather frightening air of sophistication.
This most popular group in our little town had all it took to be what they
was. Young and smart and more than highly educated, they were the dream of
every rising youngster and the scourge of every arrogant boaster. Arrogant
alien boasters who came to our little town trying to show off their
intellectual prowess were abruptly put in their places by these our highly
learned folks. One statement or question and such boastful pseudo-scholars
are left gaping and confused, gasping for breath and looking for an escape
route. They could make our little town as uncomfortable as a blazing oven
for any conceited boaster who came to our little town pretending to be
master of some field of knowledge or the other. Such was the weight of their
academic bazookas!!!
The favourite past time of these our gentle learned folks was academic work
and debate, reading and writing and complex analyses of subjects ranging for
the advanced principles of sight-seeing to such simple (for them) subjects
as parrotry, rabbitry and hostile gnashing and the principles of friendly
cooing. Our common townsfolk never tired of hearing these sophisticated
members of our little community expound their juicy theories, propound new
ones, or dismantle some seemingly difficult theorem or other.
Last but by no means the least, there were, in our little town, our
sophisticated group of smarties. These were the Largehead Chickenbrains, the
Big-Eye Littlesights, the Reyjef Tutihams, Kumaba Londitangs and Hamhami
Mbedas, who claimed to be conversant with each and every topic on the face
of the earth, even though they may not have been schooled in any particular
field of knowledge. Quick to learn and quick to assimilate, they were also
quick to read and quick to write. Quick to see just what was wrong and what
was right in every move and step, every word and sigh within the four
corners of our little town. That was why they were so greatly loved and
honoured and considered special celebrities in our little town. That was why
they were dubbed the ‘Proper Ones’, for truly speaking, no one could
challenge them in the difficult art of telling right from wrong and in
mapping out specific routes and patterns that must be strictly followed by
the less endowed folks of our little town. To distinguish themselves from
the less endowed of our common townsfolk, these our prominent word-bags and
airy folks always wore their coats inside-out and would not run from either
sun or rain. So that even if a mighty rainstorm found them walking at a
certain pace, they would neither hasten their pace nor run for shelter. They
dared the very elements themselves!  They were the never-say-nevers, the
gallant Bravehearts of our little town!!!


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