Courtesy of allAfrica.com

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Inside Africa: the Banjul Experience


Concord Times (Freetown)

OPINION
July 16, 2001
Posted to the web July 16, 2001

Sulaiman Momodu
Freetown

"Look at what 'small' Yayah Jammeh has done in The Gambia and look at what
we have back home," a colleague passenger grumbled as we arrived at the
Banjul International Airport.

Banjul International Airport can be given a credit - that is if you are a
mean teacher in giving marks.

Consider the size of The Gambia, the virtually non-availability of natural
resources and if you want to have mental problems, think about Sierra Leone,
fat mineral resources and the nonsense we have at Lungi.

The frustration of my colleague travellers was understandable. To them,
Sierra Leone with all her UN connections not to talk about the diamonds and
other minerals we have, should be far ahead of The Gambia.

But here we are. Look at us down, down, down maintaining a permanent first
position from the rare in the UN human development index.

I was unfortunate to be on the same flight with a government official whose
stomach resembled someone who had just swollen a small cow. He was
shockingly very bitter about Sierra Leone and repeatedly asked rather
rhetorically, "why should The Gambian have a beautiful and well-organised
airport? Why should The Gambia have this and that ?" If he had asked me, I
would have told him that the answer is in his extra-ordinarily large belly.
Big bellies, I believe are a contributing factor to the war. You want to
challenge this? I agree that Jammeh took over the reigns of government as
one of Africa's youngest leaders.( Can't remember how old he was anyway, but
it was in 1994.) However, I disagree with the argument that Jammeh has done
well, while our leaders - Siaka Stevens, J.S Momoh, Valentine Strasser, and
Johnny Paul Koroma did or have done nothing. In their own right they have
put Sierra Leone on the map, though in a very bad style . The point is, life
in Jammeh's country easily impresses a Sierra Leonean and builds in him
anger and frustration. But reflect a bit, just a little bit. Dauda Jawara,
call him Goliath if you like, ruled Gambia for several years and when he
left, Jammeh who appeared like the biblical David started doing what they
people wanted. Development.

Come to think of it, what is necessary for any country to progress is a
strong political will which our leaders appear to lack. Anyway, let me leave
our leaders alone for elections time? Before I came over to The Gambia, I
met a man at the Leopold Sedar Senghor airport in Dakar, who for the first
time in my life I hated at first sight. He had an intimidating look and
appearance and if someone had told me that he was one of those blood-sucking
RUF commanders plundering Tongo and Kono for gems, I would not doubt an
inch.

I was later to fall sick to find him on the same flight with me. I did not
like his company to say the least.

He was like one of those rebels who had threatened to chop off my head
during those days when going into RUF territory to cover stories was my
past-time.. "Oh my God, where is this criminal going?" I whispered to a
friend. But trust the Gambian security officers. They may have their
shortcomings, but they won my respect and love when they singled out that
man and subjected him to vigorous and rigorous examination. Precisely that
should be the work of the security agents. Weed out any suspicious
characters before they grow.

The Gambian Airport is located some kilometers from Banjul and the road to
the city is somehow identical to our home- made. Rugged and pot- hole
riddled at some places.

Banjul is a small city with mostly low buildings. The streets are tarred,
but fairly wide. In terms of electricity supply, I went to bed with lights
on, and when I woke up I found myself in the dark. I though I was dreaming
so I pitched myself and sharply responded to stimuli. "NPA don cam ya?" I
called out.

Banjul is no better than Freetown in terms of electricity. I only hope NPA
has not infected that country.

Before I tell you about trade in the Gambia, lets go to the
telecommunication services. It is superb.

An American friend was categorical when talking about Gamtel.(Gambia
Telecommunications) "It is the best in Africa?" he said with pompous
finality. "One of the best," I attempted to correct him. "I said the best,"
he stressed.

Walking along the streets of Banjul, I could easily tell who was a Sierra
Leonean.

The magic? Our accent is different from the typical Gambian and indeed in
all instances of cross-checking I was right.

Incidentally, the official language of The Gambia is English and like
Senegal, it is followed by Wollof. Any journalist worth his salt would want
to know how his brothers and sisters are doing when he visits a foreign
land. With this spirit, I went about to locate the High Commission.

Banjul is a tiny city, so even though our High Commission had recently
relocated, it did not take me long to locate it.

Housed in a two- storey- building, the first shocker I had on climbing the
stairs was to find the place virtually deserted, save for two teenage
girls.. "Wait for those working here," one told me as I started what
journalists love best. Questions. "We are also visitors," the other said .

Patiently, I waited. Then came a young man. I started speaking the Queen's
language, then I decided to make him feel at home. "Me na salone man, kushe"
I said.

On painstakingly explaining my mission, the man said that I could not see
the Ambassador and added that the deputy, a lady, was also out of the
office.

Like a football I was passed over to the second floor. "That place is
deserted," I protested. "You go up again," he said.

I tiredly went up the stairs and this time, the secretary was in.

After a few question and answer session, she told me to call again. I tell
you something- I would never wait to talk to any Ambassador whenever I
travel.

I had my lesson in Monorovia, Liberia. The Ambassador then who was
apparently doing nothing told me to call on him the next day before he would
grant an interview.

I pleaded but no dice. I reluctantly agreed to have the interview the next
day at a time he himself had suggested.

When I got to the Embassy located at the far end of Monrovia, the Ambassador
was just waking up. He told me to wait. I did, though nervously.

In the end, he appeared and granted an interview.

I rushed to the airport only to find the flight nearly about to take off and
my luggage abandoned.

That was in Taylor's Kingdom.

In Jammeh's Gambia , I hated a replay of that episode.

Anyway, I encouraged the secretary to tell me where I can get the Ambassador
in a manner suggesting, "if the Ambassador does not go to the office, the
office will go to the Ambassador." "The Ambassador is not well, he is at
home," she said. "Thank you madam. Where is the home?" "Hm.. he is not at
home," she said. "What is his telephone number?" I requested. "I don't
know," she replied. Realizing that her answer was ridiculous, she quickly
added "ammm. we don't give out the Ambassador's number." As the dialogue was
becoming rather boring and drab, I asked her whether there is anyone I can
talk with. "Go back to the first floor," she suggested.

I complied.

The man I met refused to talk. "The second in command is out," he said "I
will wait for her, but please what is life like for Sierra Leonean?" I asked
in the most friendly tune. "My friend, I won't answer any questions," he
said.

When I first entered the office, it was deserted. And then people came
around, but still it remained deserted.

In frustration, I decided to wait for the 2IC ( second in command) like the
police would say.

I hesitantly sat on the chairs gripped by fears that it might be infested by
bed bugs. The sanitation in the office was appalling by all standards and it
did not surprise me to see rats dancing 'bubu'.

That was what really drove me away. I left the High Commission disappointed
and I eagerly look forward to meeting the Ambassador. If not to ask him
questions about refugees and what have you, but to politely tell him to
better organize our High Commission and perhaps employ more cleaners.

My spirit was only lifted by horses and donkeys. If seeing horses in Dakar
amused me, I was more fascinated on seeing both horses and donkeys in
Gambia.

In fact, in Gambia, the roads are constructed for donkeys and horses, which
provide a good means of transportation.

The quality of life in Banjul is better than Freetown. No doubt. Here
business is booming, the Dalassi is stonger than the leone and things are
relatively cheap. Little wonder why Sierra Leoneans go there in search of
greener pastures. Interestingly, the Gambians too are here for greener
pastures in the name of diamonds, gold and better education. Call this the
business of business.

My stay in The Gambia was short but sweet. I think I love Banjul.


Copyright © 2001 Concord Times. Distributed by AllAfrica Global Media
(allAfrica.com).











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