Smart Town Revisited (Part Two) By Baba Galleh Jallow Our little town could most of even more worthy folks. There were our great and famous intelligentsia, or in simpler jargon, the most Dontelligent ones of our little town. These were really the cream of the crowd, the pride of the peacock. Most prominent among them were Liontalk Ratheart, Toughdo Littlemove, Tarpet Gaindegi, Gisyeb Gumbogi, Fumdem Yahafa, Reyjef Tuutihel, and last but not the least, Londitii Emptyhead. These our special folks were not only intellectually active, but also mental rustic. Often times, they could be seen in their favorite tails and ties, their hippo-hide boots, their expensive wooden pens tucked proudly in their breast pockets, marching proudly up and down the streets of our little town, or trading their intellectual wares at the bantaba, a permanent smile on their slightly parted 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 it was. Young and smart and more than a little educated, they were the dream of every rising youngster and the scourge of every arrogant boaster. Arrogant boasters and mental midgets who came to our little town trying to show off their intellectual prowess or trying to show that they were clever were abruptly put in their places by these our highly learned folks. One statement or question from any one of them and such boastful pseudo-scholars are left gaping and confused, gasping for breath and looking for an escape route this way and that, like frightened rats. They could make our little town as uncomfortable as a blazing oven for any conceited boaster who came there pretending to be master of some field of knowledge or the other. Such was the weight of their academic bazookas!!! Such was the awe they inspired in our little town!! The favorite past times of these our gentle learned folks were matters of academic work and debate, reading and writing, brainstorming, and complex analyses of subjects ranging from the advanced principles of whatyasay to such complex subjects as parrotry, chickenry, hostile teeth-gnashing and the principles of friendly cooing and angry rattling. Our common townsfolk never tired of hearing these sophisticated giants of our little town expound their juicy theories, propound strange new ones, or dismantle some seemingly difficult theorem or other. They particularly enjoyed seeing the likes of Tarpet Gaindegi whitewashing mouthy folks who came to our little town and pretended to be clever. The most prominent among these endowed folks was Gisyeb Gumbogi. Homo Gumbogi, as our common townsfolk fondly referred to our pious Gisyeb, was a specialist in maata foof techniques, a skill that was so hard to master that only the most brilliant and fearless could come close to practicing it. Homo Gumbogi, however, practiced this special talent as easily as he smelled the air. Maata foof involved being at once a lion and a lamb, a lion when no danger is around and a lamb when the need arises. It demanded a nimble state of mind and was often used as a survival technique by the more gifted among our common townsfolk. The very few who could practice this ancient and dynamic art were greatly admired. Homo Gumbogi was among the very few bigwigs in our little town who knew that if you were a master of maata foof, there was no reason why you should not show the whole big wide world what you were capable of. So it was that our pious Homo Gumbogi, alias Ratahal, his bright eyes sparkling with a knowing light, would don his favorite tails and ties and his hippo-hide boots, his unrivalled pen stuck to his breast pocket, and proudly strut in our little town, watching out for boastful dwarfs who pretended to be tall or just posing for all the eager cameras rooting to get a snap of the rare gem. And when his elegant picture came out, our common townsfolk were always amazed at how educated the wise guy looked. Even more than in real life! His face would shine like an oily moon, and there would be a grave and distant look in his eyes, not a hint of a smile on his serious lips, and more than a little air of pride and – no, not arrogance – in his generous nostrils. Homo Gumbogi would hang a copy of this special picture in all the major streets of our little town, and our common townsfolk would stop by and stare and marvel at the great spectacle. And then when Homo Gumbogi sailed proudly by and saw how our common townsfolk were staring at him, he would give them his maata foof smile, displaying a row of real brown teeth, and saying “yeah, that’s maata foof men. It’s all a matter of human lies and the rule of now. No yohal.” Last but by no means the least, there were, in our little town, our sophisticated group of lesser smarties. There were Largehead Chickenbrain, Reyjef Tutiham, Lerrbot Ledemhel, Hamhami Mbedami, and the great Munwakh Nyaakahel who, to the most utter amazement of our common townsfolk, proved that he was conversant with each and every topic on the face of the earth, even those he had never been schooled in. Quick to learn and quick to assimilate, Munwakh Nyaakahel was 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 Homo Nyaakahel was so greatly loved and honored and considered a special celebrity in our little town. That was why he and some of our lesser smarties 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 among 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 heavenly elements themselves! They were the never-say-nevers, the gallant mbokaharrs of our little town!!! And if you wondered why they would not take shelter, any one of them could tell you yeah, no yohal, no yohal, echoing our gallant Gisyeb Gumbogi of the oily face, alias Ratahal Sortisoof. _________________________________________________________________ Express yourself instantly with MSN Messenger! Download today it's FREE! http://messenger.msn.click-url.com/go/onm00200471ave/direct/01/ ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ To unsubscribe/subscribe or view archives of postings, go to the Gambia-L Web interface at: http://listserv.icors.org/archives/gambia-l.html To Search in the Gambia-L archives, go to: http://listserv.icors.org/SCRIPTS/WA-ICORS.EXE?S1=gambia-l To contact the List Management, please send an e-mail to: [log in to unmask] ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤