*The Donald Trump of Africa*

*By Baba Galleh Jallow*

The Donald Trump of Africa, chief executive officer and managing director
of Fankele Fanfadi Kunda Enterprises was a famous guy in our little town.
He was so famous because he held himself to be the ultimate guru of
profound practical wisdom and the repository of knowledge on all subjects
under the face of the earth. He boasted particular expertise in the violent
science of fighting and the humble art of begging. He was quick to quarrel
when anyone doubted his opinion, whether his opinion was well-considered or
not. The Donald Trump of Africa did not give a damn: if it was his opinion,
it must be the truth and nothing but the truth; full stop; period; no more
questions; and no answers.

So when it came to the question of truth and lies at Fankele Fanfadi Kunda
Enterprises, the buck stopped dead at the muscular lips of The Donald Trump
of Africa. He stoutly insisted that whatever he said or did was the
absolute and inviolable truth and that in fact, he knew what was best for
everyone and that everyone must follow his every footstep, foot for foot,
and abide by his every prescription on how they must live, what they can
do, and what they must not say. He was particularly passionate when he
publicly insisted that he was appointed by the ancestors to serve as the
unquestionable lord and master of everyone and everything at Fankele
Fanfadi Kunda Enterprises. And he went all out - all engines ablaze! - to
make sure that everyone both inside and outside Fankele Fanfadi Kunda
visibly acknowledged his presence and affirmed his unquestionable right to
do and say as he wished with everybody’s lives and destinies.

The Donald Trump of Africa was particularly famous for the groundbreaking
length of his names and titles. He was especially famous for his insistence
that everyone at Fankele Fanfadi Kunda Enterprises must mention all his
names and titles when they addressed him. So the people at Fankele Fanfadi
were required to say “Chief the Honorable Executive Officer and Managing
Director of Fankele Fanfadi Kunda Enterprises, The Donald Trump of Africa,
Pabi di Mastah” whenever they addressed him. He particularly enjoyed
hearing people pronounce the ringing tail of his names and titles – Pabi di
Mastah: it made him feel like a real hero who will stay around for a
million years then choose his successor.

The Donald Trump of Africa liked to brag. Our common townsfolk were amazed
that he bragged not only about ordinary things in life which he perhaps
understood, but also about extraordinary things in life some of which he
could not possibly understand. They were befuddled that The Donald Trump of
Africa often publicly and loudly bragged that he owned some really fearful
devils that inhabited the airs of our little town and were always there for
him, ready to do his bidding, whatever that was. They were amazed that one
day, he stood right there and loudly bragged that one of his devils had
escaped and that our common townsfolk must not leave their homes after
sunset on that fearful day. They felt offended that he could say to them “I
warn you that Sikundika is not a friendly devil. So for your own sakes and
if you don’t want to die, stay indoors after sunset; especially because
today is Friday. But if you want to die you can ignore my warning. And then
later you will come and say The Donald Trump of Africa did not tell me so.
But you will know that you are lying if you say that.” Our common townsfolk
were even more amazed when one day The Donald Trump of Africa bragged that
he chose when he was born and knows exactly when he would die: “I was born
after independence because I did not want to be born under colonial rule.
And I know when I will die. I will be the sole and only owner of Fankele
Fanfadi Kunda Enterprises for a million years. And if you don’t like it you
can go to hell.” He had squeezed his face and squinted at his audience and
tightly pursed his lips and sucked them in, daring anyone to disagree with
him.

One of The Donald Trump of Africa’s favorite brags was that he was a
reincarnation of the famous black hero Malgumis. Loudly encouraged by his
hyper-faithful innermost circle, The Donald Trump of Africa often pretended
to walk and talk like Malgumis himself. When he walked like Malgumis, The
Donald Trump of Africa would wiggle his waist and puff his hands and throw
sober glances this way and that, this way and that in the manner he
imagined Malgumis would have done. When he spoke like Malgumis, he would
stiffen his neck, cast a distant glance at the skies, loudly suck his
cheeks and twist his tongue to make the necessary vocal inflections, just
like the famous Malgumis. But our common townsfolk never bought that
particular brag; they simply would have none of it. His only support for
the Malgumis brag came from his strangely dedicated innermost circle. For
them, whatever The Donald Trump of Africa Pabi di Mastah said or did was
the truth and nothing but the total and absolute truth, even if they knew
it was not so.

The Donald Trump of Africa went so far as to brag that he could be water
when he liked and fire when he liked. “Who do you think will win the fight,
water or fire?” he would ask with a threatening flick of the finger and a
hard munching of the cheeks, expecting a chorus of the answer he gave them
not long ago and expected them never to forget. “That is why I can be fire
when I want and water when I want. Fire and water do not control me. I
control them. If I did not control them, you would not be calling me Pabi
di Mastah today.” “Nay, nay”, his innermost circle would loudly wail. They
would gently coo and shriek and throw their arms to heaven to emphasize
their agreement with Pabi di Mastah. Some of them in fact knew that The
Donald Trump of Africa was not always right. But they kept their faces
well-oiled and shiny, their teeth well-polished, their smiles
well-practiced and bright, and their tongues well sharpened and ready to go
positive all the time in praise of whatever The Donald Trump of Africa said
or did. They gently cooed and stooped in awe, and often dropped to their
knees in effusive praise of whatever The Donald Trump of Africa said or
did. “Hear, hear!” they would squeal. “Sah you really must write a book so
that future generations can benefit from your diamond wisdom!” The Donald
Trump of Africa would shake his face at them with his famous peer and do
the gentle chuckle, the one that said you know I’m always right, now we’ll
party.

Our common townsfolk were amazed that at Fankele Fanfadi Kunda Enterprises,
the boundaries between right and wrong, between truth and lies dissolved
into oblivion. Here was a space of unusual exception, where the sole object
of every conversation, every word, every thought, every gesture and every
action was for the sole pleasure of The Donald Trump of Africa. When he
breathed fire in the room and almost fried everyone alive, everyone loudly
confessed their guilt in regrettable tones and wished he breathed even more
fire more often so that they could be healed of their mortal follies. And
when The Donald Trump of Africa turned to ice and froze everyone in the
room, they hailed his magnificent cooling powers and wished he would freeze
them even more often. “Sah you really are as constant as the local star,”
they would hail.  The Donald Trump of Africa liked the idea of the local
star. He would tilt his head, squeeze his face, wear a distant look in his
eyes, and look this way and that, this way and that to express his delight
at being so referenced. He would take particular note of everyone’s
humility and gratitude for being in his presence and particularly watched
out for those smart enough to repeatedly hail him Fankele Fanfadi Bossiba,
Pabi di Mastah!

Often buoyed by their amazing pliability and the certainty with which his
innermost circle affirmed the infallibility of his words and actions, The
Donald Trump of Africa would often launch into a lengthy tirade on why he
would never tolerate colonial things: “I will not tolerate any colonial
things in my head or at Fankele Fanfadi Kunda Enterprises. In fact from now
Fankele Fanfadi Kunda Enterprises is a local company that is now called
Fankele Fanfadi Kunda Pabi di Mastah. The word Enterprises is a colonial
word and is henceforth banned expelled from Fankele Fanfadi Kunda. Anyone
coming into this company will be severely screened and if they have
anything to do with the word Enterprises, they will be banned from coming
into the company. Even the words Fankele Fanfadi Kunda will no longer be
spelt in a colonial language. I will spell it in my own language. And if
you don’t like it you can go to hell.” And since The Donald Trump of Africa
was a rich and muscular man, those who disagreed with him were mercilessly
struck down and out of Fankele Fanfadi Kunda soil. As far as The Donald
Trump of Africa was concerned, colonial things were the greatest evils in
the world and he, their ultimate nemesis. No wonder he is sometimes heard
shouting in his sleep, “I am the Donald Trump of Africa! No colonial things
in my head!”


¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤
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]
¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤