The Death in Busumbala............ 
        By:Associate Editor Mathew Jallow
  It was late evening, and the setting sun cast a red shadow that stretched as far as the eye could see towards a patch of thick woodland outside the village of Busumbala. Overhead, geese in battle formation flapped their wings lazily as instinct guided them westward towards the gentle Atlantic shoreline . Below the huge baobab tree, Demba a lonely cattle herder, singing sad melodies to himself, kept watch over a herd of cattle that was feeding among the tall, browning buloude grass. 
  
  Jangfa Jammeh
  Suddenly, from the west, two black vehicles leaving a trail of brown dust behind them, sped along the dirt road towards where Demba stood in the shadow of the baobab. Instinctively, Demba ran for cover under a thick brush barely fifty meters from the where the car was to stop. For Demba Jallow, this was a most unusual sight. He had been herding cattle for Masanneh, the wealthy town shopkeeper for over four years, but he had never seen a car in that part of the village. As soon as the car stopped, Demba saw three individuals in military uniforn pile out of the vehicle. Inside the back seat of the car, another uniformed officer was struggling with an individual in dark suit. The three officers climbed the back of the car, and a flurry of activity followed as the officers tried to subdue the individual in dark. Within minutes, the struggling had stopped. The man's head slumped to the side and leaned on the seat as if in a dozing mode. When the officers exited the vehicle,
 Demba saw the man who appeared to be sitting still, fall face first on the back seat. Fear overcame Demba as he sat there witnessing what had just happened before his very eyes. Within seconds, the men seemingly in a hurry, poured some liquid over the car and torched it. Then as quickly as they came, they piled into the second car and fled from the area. As the fire increased in intensity, Demba moved cautiously toward the vehicle and watched as it became engulfed in an inferno. From a safe distance, he saw the man's suit catch fire, but he did not move. He could not move. He was already strangled. His eyes were popped out to betray the fear and terror of the last minutes of his agony. Demba watched as the mans hands curled up under the intense heat of the burning rubber. Before long, his body was reduced to a pile of ashes where the young man with big dreams and a whole life ahead of him once sat. Now the man was no more. Gone and never to return. Tears rolled down
 Demba's face. For a moment he thought he was dreaming, only it was real. It was the most horrifying sight the teenage Demba had ever seen. He wanted to reach into the burning vehicle and hold the young man's hands and pull him to safety, but it was too late. Death had come and taken him. As darkness crawled in ever so slowly, Demba could sense the spirits of the night descending from the trees all around him. Tonight, he knew the young man whose face he never saw, will be flying with the other spirits. His angel will come and take him to where his grandfathers are waiting to welcome him. He had gone so soon, his task on earth barely begun. As the charred bones of a handsome young man waited to be laid to rest in a peaceful place, the agony of a country had just begun. The death of Koro Ceesay's marked the day The Gambia lost its innocence. A family lost their child, brother, and a sister, but The Gambia lost a son who became the symbol our common despair and the tyranny of
 an evil would-be dictator. To Koro Ceesay I say, let this be my tribute to you. I never knew you, but I loved you the same way your mother, my friend loved you. Let Deida, Makalo and Daba Marena know that I can never forget their friendships. Also tell the school children we will build a monument to them somewhere, some day. We remember all the brave soldiers who gave up their lives seeking freedom and justice for the rest of us. We have not got neither freedom nor justice yet, and so we cry and cry each day. We are helpless and we are hopeless. 
  Next Week: The April 2000 Massacre. 
   
    
Posted on Tuesday, May 16, 2006 (Archive on Tuesday, May 30, 2006)
Posted by PANDERRYMBAI  Contributed by PANDERRYMBAI
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          Current Rating:  4.00                        Rating:   3    GOD BLESS JAMMEH AND THE HUMBLE GAMBIANS.WITH GOD, JAMMEH FEAR THEM NOT, "THE EVIL" SHALL PERISH.            Rating:   5    
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