Lamin Sabally- Minneapolis, Minnesota

Information & Communication Minister Nana Grey Johnson

Leaning heavily on recent local newspaper reports on the Gambia’s celebrations of the international media or press freedom day, hopes appear to be increasingly illuminating with the expressed initiation of a concrete dialogue process between the Gambia government and its strange bedfellow, the independent media practitioners in the Gambia. Among indicators illuminating that hope, was the presence, at the Tango venue of the Minister of Information, Communication and Infrastructure, who is also one of Gambia’s finest writers and distinguished associates of the Gambia Press Union, Nana Grey Johnson. His presence among diplomats, Media chiefs, leadership of the Gambia Press Union and Tango ( an umbrella organization of all NGOs), will probably go down in the country’s history as the first ever minister to attend and address the annual media day anniversary celebrations as succinctly reported by the Foroyaa Newspaper. This unprecedented  initiative must be praised and embraced by the GPU as a welcome development by the Gambia government and by all indications, the physical presence and the conciliatory presentations by the honorable minister must be positively inferred to mean an opening of a new chapter in the difficulty relationship between the government and the independent media and this new positive approach must be nurtured  and strengthened through  the continuation of sustained rounds of positive dialogue between the two, whose relationship as encapsulated by the minister was construed to be a mixture  of “  suspicion, paranoid and agenda”. This change of direction must be seen to mean the chronic bad blood between the government and the watchdog or the fourth estate will now change to begin to usher in the much-desired mutual trust, respect and constructive bond between the two.

At this stage, the GPU must passionately trust one of their astute partners and capitalized on all the unprecedented package of offer extended by Minister Nana Grey Johnson and push for more dialogue to bring about the desired changes the GPU had consistently advocated in promoting the ironclad constitutionally mandated  press freedom in the Gambia. As a student of leadership during my graduate program, I have been constantly reminded that in dealing with conflict, one of the most dependable and sophisticated tools to be deployed with precision is the weapon of dialogue.  This postulation has been unshakably supported by   increasingly accumulated conclusive research findings. In pursuing continuing dialogue with the government, I am sure the GPU top echelons can always command the prevalence of decorum under the friendliest atmosphere. To that end, I would like to humbly  implore them to stick to some important principles of dialogue generously enumerated by Kegan and Lahey which include the  use of less inflammatory language with  its substitution with the use of appropriate language in case if the discussions start to elicit the tendency to be tense; use of language of personal responsibility by deploying palatable and convincing negotiations, by which way, all unnecessary ranting and possible aggression on both sides can be completely surmounted. At this stage, I will deliberately eschew the pleasure of wallowing in the precise academics of conflict management and resolution specificities to prevent bogging down the readers with its complexities since this is not an academic paper.

Already, some common grounds have been concretely rejuvenated at the Tango press freedom day convergence during which the press has been sturdily recognized as not an enemy, but partner of government in nation building and development., that information for which the media is the specialized purveyor and transmitter is very important for human existence to spur a flourishing democracy and that free speech and expression is GOD –given right of any human being.  Both the government and the GPU are obviously cognizant of these rights and what now needs to be trashed out include the mountain of hindrances to what the GPU considers to be lack of press freedom in the Gambia. The common ground amplifies that both need each other for the development of the Gambia and with mutual trust, these impediments can be overcame with rapidity if both sides uphold their trusted side of the bargain, including the provision of the right atmosphere by the government for the operation and functioning of a vibrant press and the resolute commitment to the ethics and ethos of professional journalism by the media members through appropriate training of its members to ensure  unqualified professionalism.

Training is a never-overemphasized necessary requirement for the enhancement of the professional efficiency of personnel in any area of their specialization. However, when it comes to media practitioners, there seems to be an avalanche of misunderstanding of these professional pen pushers. Most people have the unalloyed belief that a journalist is someone who needs to be trained in the specialized field of the profession. This is a highly misplaced understanding of who really a journalist is. If one takes just a perfunctory look at news anchors, readers and reporters of major international media houses including the BBC, CNN, FOX for example, you will come to the rude and surprised realization that some of the big and idiolized names are groomed academically as international law experts, economists, political scientists and linguists because they acquired their degrees in these specialized areas.

With that observation, the Gambia can be reasonably proud to be on record for having some of the finest journalists both in the print and electronic media in terms of their quality of writings and broadcasting or reporting skills. With just minimal exposure to basic and rudimentary writing and broadcasting trainings, the country had progressively produced unquestionable prolific writers in the likes of Sheriff Bojang Sr, Cherno Baba Jallow, Musa Saidy Khan, Ebrima Sillah, Alie Badara Sowe, Pa Nderry M’bai, Yankuba Jabang, Fatou Jaw Manneh and many others. And in the area of broadcasting, you have the likes of Haddy Badjie, Fatou Camara, Haruna Drammeh, Lamin Ceesay, Malick Jones, and lots more. I sincerely apologize if I am being seen to be biased for not been able to list all the other finest writers and broadcasters for obvious lack of space and these few names given are just infinitesimal samples of the swamped list.  I must personally recognize that some of these people have now either earned or in active pursuit of university degrees in various fields. But admittedly, at the time they freshly joined the media community, they have been sufficiently renowned at the national level to be excellent writers, editors, broadcasters and reporters. This is because the media houses that employed them routinely organized profoundly rewarding in-house training courses for them often under the professional tutelage of notable doyens and icons like Babucarr Gaye, Deyda Hydara, Pa Dixon Colley and AA Barry (all of blessed memory) Sam Sarr, Dr. Baba Galleh Jallow, Bora Mboge, Aunty Jainaba Nyang, Peter Gomez, Ebrima Sanyang, Alieu Sanyang, Suwaibou Conateh, Pap Saine, Abdou Gassama, Aunty Sabel Badjan, Sereign Faye, Kenneth Y Best, Demba Jawo and may others. I have been always proud of most of  these former colleagues in one of the noblest professions I was very much part of from 1998 until 2001 before I joined the IEC having worked at Citizen FM Radio and the government owned Gambia daily both as correspondent for State House and the National Assembly.  The passion and dedication I have consistently observed of these colleagues have always been both phenomenally and monumentally impressive.

In my judgment, as a matter of urgency, the dialogue must kick-start right now and the first important issue that needs to be dealt with is the minister’s characterization of the relationship between the media and government as defied by “agenda, suspicion and paranoid” which must be brought to the discussion table for all misconceptions to be permanently erased. Equally, the disturbing perception of Mr. Gray Jonson that the independent media deliberately shuns “news of development” but is intentionally “concern with news that undermines the country’s international image and standing” must be exhaustively discussed for lucid clarity to prevail. The media, it must be emphasized, has crucial responsibility that it must laboriously shoulder including making government accountable by constructively criticizing its program and policy shortcomings and deficiencies. During this process, use of certain non-calibrated descriptions may elicit some harsh reactions from the government which has the propensity of heightening the level of apprehension a government may have for the independent press. In as much as the media productively criticizes the government, it must equally give undiluted recognitions and commendations devoid of truncation to the government by reporting on news of development as alluded to Minister Grey Johnson. By towing these fine and absolutely delicate thins lines, the private press will be seen to be very impartial and becomes more receptive to the government.

The recent upgrade of the GPU as training center for journalists who will be awarding Diplomas is a welcome development. This is an instance of fruitful collaboration between the University of the Gambia and the GPU and the elaborate publication it attracted on the media was highly impressive.

So please let the promising dialogue continue with the active involvement of unexhausted list of stakeholders in every process like Tango and Action Aid executives, GPU officials, Media Chiefs, Ministers of Communication, Justice and Interior and Council of elders and let the media adequately reports all recent updates on the progress of these repeated dialogues for the information of the citizenry both aboard and home.

The private media and government each other. By all strength of imagination, the kind of connection they have is symbiosis in nature requiring each of the two to be absolutely needing the other for their very survival and relevance.

MoBSE Fatou Lamin Faye

Justice Minister Jobarteh

Lamin Sabally-Minneapolis, Minnesota

With the prank interview of the Gambia’s number two on Freedom Radio  fresh in mind, during which Vice President Dr. Ajaratou Isatou Njie Siady generously disclosed what is best termed in the US media fraternity parlance as TMI (Too Much Information),  the aftermath of which heralded very interesting discussion both within the Gambia and in the Diaspora, I would have thought that Ministers and Senior Gambia government officials would have been much more careful whenever they  got engaged by surprised anonymous overseas telephone callers.

However, if the recent string of  the secret interviews by Pa Nderry of Ministers of Justice, Tourism, and Basic Education is anything thing to go by, then I should confidently conclude without fear of a jot of  overestimation that my presumption has been manifestly proven dead wrong.  The sneaky interviews during which Freedom Radio Proprietor posed as a very princely philanthropist unbelievably made these Ministers spoke very comfortably at the mere pronouncement of an intent to satisfactorily sponsor government projects in the form of books, financial aid or sending students on vacation to the Gambia.

While at work, a friend called me up and to my astonishment, informed me that Justice Minister Jobarteh was on Freedom radio and was being interviewed by Pa Nderry who was posing as a prospective juicy donor without detection by the honorable minister. I could not believe when I tuned in. At the infancy stage of the interview, it appeared Pa Nderry inventively  attempted to change his voice to disguise that of a British or American white man, but as the interview steadily progressed, his natural voice came very audibly recognized.  The government top legal guru’s failure to notice that voice suddenly made me untiringly scratch my brain in complete state of perplexity for answers to the extent that even with my relapsed during the process into mental gymnastics in frantic search for answers failed to produce any of the answers my brain cells were hysterically scampering after.

It was obvious that Minister Jobarteh was too comfortable giving remarkably golden revelations ranging from his expressed readiness to repeal with alacrity the recently enacted infamous laws aimed at discouraging public begging, divulging salaries of high court judges and magistrates, to the disturbing financial predicament faced by the Justice ministry to train its staff, to bankroll the much- admired legal aid and finance the building of more courthouses.  How in the world could any minister be dragged into such level of divulging what would have been thought to be  classified government information to an unidentified telephone caller who was nailing the minister with unsuspecting intrusive questions with precision to elicit accurate official information.

Minister Fatou Lamin Faye of Basic Education and my idolized Minister of Tourism Madam Fatou Mass Job- Njie were both enticed to freely pour out same top classified info to Pa Nderry without the recognition of his voice also prompted at the mere declaration of intent as a foreign donor. All prank interviewees comfortablly gave out their official email addresses with the high hope that the imposter donor will furnish them with details of his colossal tantalizing financial assistance package.  If kudos were to be given, this will go to Moses Jallow, the Chief of Protocol at the office of President for his professionalism in fending off Mr. M’bai’s piercing questions. He never succumbed to the invasive volley of questions to give President Jammeh’s exact physical location at the time and insisted that when the shrewd feigned donor provides details about his promised enticing financial package, he would then direct him to the appropriate Gambian agency in Dakar for the right channels to be pursued in accessing the promised assistance.  Moses exhibited real, professional, diplomatic expertise and maneuvering skills.

The obvious similarly of the interviews was that all the pranked ministers were all spontaneously triggered by sweet-talk of raw cash and they immediately started answering all undercover enquires and with that in mind, they never bother to pause for a minute to inquire about who exactly the imposing generous foreign donor was. All three went ahead and gave adequate disclosure about the major financial situations of their respective ministries and the areas of intervention they specifically need immediate bailout with the aim of securing the rapid benevolence of the donor who was never to be. I am pretty sure if any of these ministers knew from get go that they were talking to the much detested Freedom radio proprietor, each of them would have angrily dropped off the phone instantaneously.

The level of apprehension and  seeming abhorrence of  Pa N’derry was even manifested during the interview when Justice Minister Jobarteh made  stinging reference to Freedom Radio and its  evil impact it brought to the Gambia government and went further to  disclose  in the interview just like VP Saidy, that Pa Nderry had seriously  neglected his parents in the Gambia for failing to cater for their needs, while happily and irresponsibly indulging in writing and broadcasting bitter, incriminating  disgusting, false and malicious stories about the Gambia government and its officials.

Admittedly, I am not taking platform for Pa Nderry and neither am I part of the Freedom Newspaper and Radio crew, but I am one of their many listeners even with sharp difference of opinions about our pressing national issues. Similarly, I and many Diaspora Gambians regularly listen to and read other alternative online radios and web-based newspapers like Kibaaro, Hello Gambia and Gainako to beef up our sources of news about daily happenings in our beloved native country in additional to the news from the local based newspapers. With that said, can the covert interviews be suggested to mean that Pa Nderry’s frequent chest-pounding and teeth-gnashing declaration that he can penetrate the government of the Gambia has been amply justified with the latest string? Certainly, he must have procured the ministers’ direct official phone numbers through a very close government source. The fact that Minister Jobarteh unwittingly  made the chilling revelation that the main reason for amending the law on false information charge to a public official was principally meant to curb the disturbing  leakage of government information to Freedom Newspaper may be deemed  to have conclusively illustrated the zenith of apprehension and dislike being nurtured for his popular radio and newspaper.

By Baba Galleh Jallow

Dr. Baba Galleh Jallow

“Being president is a humbling job,” said Obama as he spoke at the opening of the George W. Bush Library at the Southern Methodist University Campus in Dallas, Texas on Thursday, April 25 2013. Those words sprung involuntary tears into my eyes. Indeed, I find tears involuntarily springing to my eyes on many occasions when I watch and hear the speeches of American leaders. Perhaps it is the extremely stark contrast I see between these great but humble citizens, and the mediocre and arrogant persons who impose themselves as so-called leaders in our homeland. Perhaps it is the realization that nothing really keeps Africa from being great but the stifling arrogance and chronic aversion to ideas, knowledge, truth and wisdom that our leaders characteristically demonstrate. While being president of the world’s most powerful nation is considered a humbling job, being president of the world’s poorest and weakest nations is considered license to assume a godlike status that gives the power to bully and kill the people with total impunity.

Of course, neither Obama nor any other American president, dead or alive is any more human than any African president, dead or alive. Americans are no less susceptible to corruption and the abuse of power than Africans. Americans and their leaders are endowed with the same brainpower that Africans possess. They have the same capacity for thought and rational action; the same weaknesses of the human being. Given this fact of the equality of humanity, Africans must wonder why their presidents behave like drunken gods with machine guns blazing among their people. Surely it is not because Americans are better human beings than Africans or that Americans are less likely to be corrupted by power; nor is it because Africans are less capable of being human or humble than Americans. Humility may be a naturally cultivated characteristic of human beings; but in situations of power, humility is more often than not an imposed virtue. An insultingly arrogant president of the kind we have in countries like The Gambia cannot long survive at the White House.

If there is one thing that every modern American president looks forward to doing, it is establishing a presidential library both to preserve their records in office and, as Bill Clinton put it at the Bush Library opening, to rewrite history. History of course, can both be re-rewritten and not be re-written. It is a joy of historical studies that while there are certain facts that can never be written or interpreted other than what they were, the stuff of history is the art of interpretation and reinterpretation. A hundred historians could write about the same event in different ways and all of them get it right. Which is why that part of the Bush library reserved for people to judge and say what they feel should have been done or not done by the Bush administration is such a good idea. American presidents care about how History will judge them. Most African presidents just don’t give a damn about history or anything other than feeding their sick and bloated egos.

But it is not the fact of historical preservation that primarily drives American presidents to preserve their legacies through the building of presidential libraries. Their motivation derives more from the high premium that the American public, or at least significant sections of it, place on the value of knowledge and education. Americans recognize that ideas are the fuel without which the engine of development cannot start, not to say run smoothly. They recognize that preserving knowledge is preserving energy for the development of future generations. They recognize that their country is great because of its respect for a diversity of ideas and opinions, some right, some wrong, some outright ridiculous. They recognize that perhaps above everything else, they owe the greatness of their nation to the survival of a free marketplace of ideas and the individual’s inalienable right to freely express himself in any way he deems necessary. The high premium America places on the value of ideas and free expression is aptly captured in the First Amendment of the Constitution of the United States which, among other things, prohibits Congress from making any law abridging the freedom of speech and of expression. Americans know that ideas are the building blocks with which great nations are built.

Contrast this almost obsessive reverence for the sanctity of knowledge and ideas to the contempt with which knowledge and ideas are held in most African countries and you will get the key to the puzzle of Africa’s stagnation. If only African leaders and governments had treated ideas with the respect they deserve from the dawn of independence, Africa’s story would have been a whole lot different than what it has turned out to be after over half a century of independence. Above everything else, it is the insensitive strangulation of ideas that lies at the root of Africa’s poverty and stagnation. The stupefying mountains of seemingly intractable problems facing African nations today are nothing but the bitter fruits of African leaders’ selfish intolerance of differing opinion and their refusal to privilege the acquisition of knowledge as the most important path to a people’s advancement. Witness the closure of Citizen FM and Teranga FM in The Gambia for no other reason than they sought to enlighten the Gambian people by translating the news into the vernacular and encouraging open political discussion.

African leaders build roads and hospitals and monuments to be displayed as the marks of their achievement; but they neglect building the most precious and powerful resources of their nations: their people’s minds. They know that building the people’s minds is building the people’s power, and therefore giving the people the opportunity to question their actions and boot them out of power if they misbehave. American president’s feel their power as a humbling experience because they feel the power of their people and know that while they occupy the most powerful office in the world, their success and very survival depends on recognizing the extent of the power of their people in general and their colleagues and opponents in Congress and the Judiciary in particular. American presidents cannot just wake up and decree the passage of a law, or have someone arbitrarily arrested and detained, or fire a judge, a secretary of state or a director without as much as a word of explanation. Being merely human, they might wish to do such things in their personal spaces; but they realize that their power is severely limited by the perpetual presence of the public eye and the people’s capacity to punish them. For this reason, their being president represents a humbling experience. This is as it should be everywhere in the world because all people have a right to be treated with dignity if not actually feared by their leaders. That is the ideal presidency that Africans must fight for and win if the continent is to escape the vicious cycle of poverty and stagnation it has suffered since independence.

By Ndey Tapha Sosseh

Ndey Tapha-Sosseh

Waking up on that fateful Monday morning of April 10^th 2000, I had no inkling of how the day was going to unfold and the impending disaster that loomed in the air. Having had a late night at the Observer editing the stories for Mondays’ edition and waiting for any late night scoop I did not intend to go early to work.  I also wondered what breaking news we would have on that Monday.

I was then the assistant editor at the Daily Observer and Sheriff Bojang was the editor.  The Daily Observer was at the height of its heyday with an active, engaged team of reporters like the fearless Alieu Badara Sowe (Borom Nyaari Jassiyi) and erudite writers and contributors such as Debo Orike, Saihou Omar Gigo, Abdul Hamid Adiamoh, Pascal Eze, Auntie Bijou (Bijou Peters), SHM Jones.  The paper practiced an independent editorial policy, and, strove to provide accurate, impartial, well-balanced and objective stories for its readers even though it was threatened by the deportations, sackings and arrests of successive managers, editor, reporters and staff.

In my short stint at the paper, I had worked under four managers, Theophilus George, Sariang Ceesay, Andrew Dacosta and Sheriff Bojang and three editors Demba A. Jawo, Baba Galeh Jallow and Sheriff Bojang, myself being the last before I got pushed out.   All had different styles of leadership but what they brought to the paper with their different management and literary skills was to bring it to a high level of quality by motivating staff at all levels to give of their best.  There was unity and cooperation in the office as evident in the interactions between the management, professional, secretarial and printing staff.  Thus working late and coming in later the next day were no big deals as we enjoyed what we were doing and were supportive of each other.

Our sources of information were good but somehow none of the reporters had picked up or made known the information that the Gambia Student’s Union was going to stage a peaceful demonstration that Monday.  So for me it was just business as usual as I left the house for the Observer but like all journalists was hopeful that we would have something really newsworthy that would be of interest to the readers and would boost our newspaper sales.  Things were rather slow at the office as reporters had not started to come in with their stories yet so I decided to go to Banjul.  As soon as I got into Banjul I got the news of the demonstrations.

My first reaction was good this is breaking news.  I did not realize that this was indeed breaking news but of the worse type – devastating news that will lead to mayhem and tragic loss of lives of young and innocent people.  I immediately dropped all transactions and headed for the office to be available to receive the stories that would pour in.  As I got to Gambia High School I saw students rushing from the school to the opposite side of the road.   I realized that this was serious business.  The students were indeed ready for action. I thought of my cousins who had left for school as they also were unaware of the demonstration.  I stopped at Ndow’s School and dropped them home then proceeded to the Observer which was now agog with action.

Telephones were ringing and some of the reporters had already come in to report on incidents that they had witnessed.  I knew that it was going to be a long and interesting day and braced myself for a long haul.   I did not at this stage realize that this was going to be one of the most vexing episodes in the history of student demonstrations in The Gambia and that it was going to end in bloodshed and death.  I called my mother to find out how she was.  She informed me that she was fine but was worried about her staff who had gone to Banjul on an assignment.  She was also worried about what she saw as she had seen a unit of soldiers dressed in battle gear fully armed from Fajara Barracks running down the Bakau New Town Road towards the scene of the student demonstrations.  This worried her greatly as she could not understand why armed soldiers should be deployed to put down a student’s demonstration.  Staff of the Observer confirmed my mother’s story as they had also seen seemingly battle pass by the Daily Observer offices into Bakau New Town Road.

After speaking to my mum, I called my aunt in Kanifing.  Her home is at close proximity to Latrikunda School and there was a lot of noise in the background.  I could hear the pelting of stones, the shouts and cries of angry people and my aunt informed me that things had started to get violent.  She cautioned me to be careful as it did not seem that the peaceful demonstrations would end peacefully.  Journalists always want to be where the action is but in this case I had to stay in the Observer so that I could receive the news from the people on the ground.

Reports started to come in that the students had met with the Chief of Army Staff, Badjie and had asked him to get out of his car.  They removed his cap and made him walk some distance before allowing him to go.  Just this incident alone was enough evidence to prove that the students were not violent but were only seeking redress for two issues of great concern to their personal securities and protection.  Two of their peers had been harmed.  One was the beating and torture of Ebrima Barry by fire service officers which resulted in his death.  The other was the rape of a thirteen year old school girl by paramilitary officers at the Independence Stadium.  The Daily Observer had actually run both stories.  Unhappy about the outcomes of the investigation of both cases The Gambia Student’s Union (GAMSU) that had the responsibility to safeguard the interests of their membership and all students in the country organized a peaceful demonstration to bring their case to public attention.

GAMSU had requested a police permit to hold the public protest. This request was denied. Realizing it was their constitutional right to protest, the student leadership called its members to peacefully march toward the capital city of Banjul. This was their intention but they were viciously attacked by security forces who tried to dispel them with guns, tear gas and other methods of putting down riots.  The students resisted and it resulted in a raging battle between students in the Serekunda area to the Westfield Junction towards the Gambia Technical Training Institute.

The first report of shooting came in.  Omar Barrow a Red Cross volunteer/radio journalist was killed by a stray bullet in the grounds of the Gambia Red Cross Headquarters.  Omar had gone there simply to carry out his civic and humanitarian duty.  The practice for Red Cross Volunteers is to group together in times of crisis so that they give first aid to those who need it and evacuate the more serious cases to the nearest health facility.  He went there to offer help and lost his life instead.  Omar had recently married and had a young baby, named after a very close friend of mine, Fatou.  News of his shooting was received with shock as Omar was a very familiar face at the Daily Observer.

Even before we internalized this heart rending news reports of other shootings started to come in.  The horrific reports of the brute force that was being used were unbelievable.  In addition to the killings, beatings and sexual assaults of female students there was also large scale arrests of students. Anyone in a school uniform was arrested.  They stormed schools and scoured classrooms, went into homes dragging out the students they could find and threw them into their trucks to be driven to the nearest police station.  Scenes at GTTI and MDI were even more horrendous.  Students that were in class were rudely interrupted, beaten up, stripped naked bayonets used in the vagina of the girls.  Wounded and bleeding both male and female students were herded like cattle into trucks and taken into police custody.  They were put into cells without being treated for their wounds and denied access to their families.

There was a public outcry against the atrocities that were being inflicted on the demonstrators and non-demonstrators alike.   Finding a student in a class within an educational setting was not only a gross violation of their rights lives but also of education regulations.  Any student who registers in a school and is registered in a school is under the protection of the school for the period that the school is open for official business.  This was not the case on that day.  The schools and the colleges did not give the students the required protection.  The administrators stood by helplessly and watched the physical, sexual and psychological abuse of their students.  Parents also helplessly allowed their children to be dragged out of their cars to be taken away to unknown police destinations.

Not me however.  I responded with alacrity when Catherine, the then Secretary at the Daily Observer called out, “Ndey come quickly they have taken your sister.”  I looked over the verandah and saw my cousin Marie, whom I’d dropped home earlier in the hands of a soldier.  I flew down the stairs pulled her out of his hands and said to him: ‘she goes nowhere she is my sister”.  Taken aback by the audacity of my action the soldier let her go and I quickly pulled her after me up the Observer stairs to my office.  It would have been disaster if the soldier had come after me because there were several school children in the office premises whom I had harboured.

Luckily he didn’t and all the staff heaved a sigh of relief as the consequences would have been grave not only for the children but for the Daily Observer management.  However, that was the Observer of 2000, solidarity and support.  They knew the risks that were involved in my allowing school children to take temporary refuge in my office but this was a risk that they were willing to take as I had taken the action and they stood by me.  None of them complained, some of them gave the t-shirts underneath their shirts to the boys and not one of them alerted the security officers that almost a dozen school children were hiding in the Daily Observer premises.

Having reached the safety of my office and finding that there was no one in pursuit I now vented my anger on the day’s events on Marie.  Turning on her, I asked her what she was doing out in the streets during such a turbulent period and after I had made sure that they had got safely home.  Sobbing bitterly but I think more out of relief that she had been saved she explained that she was going to buy things for her cookery lesson next day.  I told her that she was out of her mind if she thought that there would be school the following day.  I asked her where my Mother was when she was going out.  She told me that my mother had tried to dissuade her but allowed her to go when she insisted.  She had escaped arrest narrowly but my niece (the daughter of a paternal cousin) was less fortunate and had to spend a fortnight in Serekunda police station in a cell with boys and other criminals. A member of the GAMSU leadership, she cried incessantly and refused to eat until her release from custody.

Coming back to the 10^th April, Radio 1 FM offered a space for people to vent their anger and air their opinions.  Several people went to the radio station to speak in support of the students.  Others raised their voices against the students describing them as unruly and indisciplined.  Emotions ran high but the highlight of the evening was a televised address by the Vice President Isatou Njie Saidy, putting the blame of the violence on the students and accused them of shooting first, said they burnt down buildings and finally acknowledged the death of fourteen students.  How could students without guns be the first to shoot?  If they fired first how come no security officer died but only the students?  These questions remain unanswered just like the two incidents which led to the students’ demonstrations.

The strong divisions that split society over the student demonstrations were also translated into homes.  As news went round that the children were being killed some caring family members went round to visit their families just to check if everything was okay.  One of the people who embarked on this charitable act was a woman who went to visit her sister.  She said to the sister “I have just come by to see how things are with you.  The situation of the children is quite worrisome so I have come to check if yours are okay”.    The sister’s reply was most unexpected.  She retorted that the children got what they deserved.  They wanted to spoil the country and this was unacceptable.  The sister was taken aback.  She rebuked her sister and said “how can you talk like that. Other people’s children are lying in the mortuary and all you have to say is that they deserved to die. I am sorry that you my own sister can think and talk like that.”  She took her leave and left greatly perturbed that her sister could be so heartless.  At that time none of them knew that one of the bodies lying in the mortuary was the son of the hard hearted woman.

Later that evening when her son did not come home she started to make enquiries. She looked for him in all the places that she knew he used to frequent.  He was nowhere to be found.  She tried the police stations to no avail.  Someone suggested the health facilities and eventually she found her son at the mortuary in Banjul.   Weeping and wailing she called her sister.  The caring sister turned out to be just as unsympathetic.  She told her sister “you did not care about someone else’s child, why should I care about yours.   Is the pain that you are feeling more acute than the pain that the other mothers are feeling?”  She hung up on her sister and despite pleas of family members refused to attend the funeral or offer her comfort in anyway.   She was too traumatized by her sisters’ callous attitude to other people’s travails.

The incident between the two sisters shocked many as did the brutality that continued to the 11^th April.  GAMSU had planned the demonstration well and in-spite of the severity of the crackdown had not called it off.  Students in other parts of the country came out in solidarity with their comrades.  They too were quelled mercilessly.  News reports came of a student who was killed in Brikamaba.  Others were detained.  Parents in the rural areas showed more gumption than their urban counterparts and put up some resistance to protect their children.  A state of emergency was declared and all schools closed.  The government maintained its story and unrepentant stance.  The truth was that they believed the demonstrations were politically motivated.  This was an insult to the leadership of GAMSU who were only doing what they had to do.

A Coroner’s inquest was opened, reporters such as Alieu Badara Sowe were relentless in their pursuit of the news but faced resistance.  The report was never made public and the Gambia Government gave a blanket amnesty to everyone who had committed violent acts against the demonstrators resulting in their death or maiming.  The courageous student leaders never gave up and fought for the release of their colleagues who were still in detention, weeks after the actual events.  The National Coalition of Human Rights Defenders (NCHRD), chaired by Muhammed Lamin Sillah, then Amnesty coordinator in The Gambia, Paps Emmanuel Joof, Fatou Jagne, Satang Jobarteh, Mary Small, Sheik Lewis, Lawyer Bory Touray and my mother Adelaide Sosseh and others was formed to seek redress for the rights of the students whose rights were violated.

The NCHRD documented some of the horrendous crimes including rape of some of the girls, the lawyers within the group were to take up a case on behalf of the victims.  Just before this, victims, came in with their parents and stated they preferred not to pursue the matter further.  They called it an act of God.  The truth is they feared reprisals.  The reprisals that the GAMSU student leaders and the NCHRD faced until some of them had to leave the country.  Contrary to Gambian culture the names of the fallen heroes of the 10^th and 11^th April are not commemorated on GRTS or the private press.  They have simply slipped into oblivion.  Omar Barrow’s daughter is now a teenager, her father cruelly taken away from her.

Redress is still not late.  In a recent documentary on France 24 Reed Brody of Human Rights Watch praised the tenacity of victims and their families in bringing tyrants to justice after several years of them getting away with the crime.  Keeping the memory of the darkest days in student’s life alive in The Gambia means that the event will not be forgotten.  The argument that if perpetrators are threatened with prosecution they will not relinquish power, or will undermine a new democracy, deserves attention but is not a stumbling block that cannot be surmounted.  I am sure that if we persevere we will break the culture of silence that is destroying our country and will emerge to speak with one voice against dictatorship in The Gambia.

Ndey Tapha Sosseh

Secretary General

Coalition For Change Gambia (CCG)

Fabakary Ceesay

A Gambian journalist has gone into hiding for fear of being harmed, disappeared without trace or killed.

Fabakary B. Ceesay, a senior reporter of Foroyaa newspaper who runs a monthly Detention without Trial column on Foroyaa, has escaped unharmed.  The column was formerly anchored by Yaya Dampha who also had a similar experience.

Mr. Ceesay’s fleeing resulted after he had been tipped that the National Intelligence Agency (NIA) issued a secret warrant for his arrest a day before the kidnapping of a protest-seeking journalist Baboucarr Ceesay.

“I decided to go into hiding for two days before finally fleeing to Senegal,” Mr. Ceesay told Kibaaro News.

The reasons for Fabakary’s arrest were unclear. Kibaaro News’ investigations extracted the chaff from the wind. “Fabakary has been under the NIA radar for so long,” a source confirmed. “The NIA is not at ease with reports on missing people and the court martial proceedings in Yundum Barracks. He was lucky because the initial plan was to pick up anytime he goes to army barracks for the court martial.”

Ceesay has been receiving threats since mid-February this year when he investigated the disappearance of some people in Foni in West Coast Region. The NIA were on Ceesay’s trail soon after interviewing the wife of a disappeared man.  The visiting agents demanded to know the whereabouts of Mr. Ceesay who later received tip off that the agents were searching for him. He sought refuge in a friend’s house before he had finally left the Gambia.

Security agents visited Mr. Ceesay’s home and office several times looking for him.

Frontline human rights defenders in the Gambia urged the government to “take all necessary measures to guarantee the security, physical and psychological integrity Fabakary Ceesay. They want the Jammeh regime to guarantee that “all human rights defenders in the Gambia are able to carry out their legitimate human rights activities without fear of reprisals and free of all restrictions including judicial harassment.”

Ends

Alhagie Jobe faces sedition charges

Alhagie Jobe has become the latest Gambian editor to be arraigned for sedition charges.

The deputy Editor-In-Chief of the Daily Observer newspaper and his alleged accomplice in crime one Mbye Bittaye appeared before Magistrate Hilary Abeke of Kanifing Magistrates’ Court on Tuesday. Magistrate Abeke ordered them to be remanded until they appear in court on March 19.

Mr. Jobe was charged with seditious intent, seditious publication, possession of seditious publication, giving false information to a public officer, forgery, and making document without authority. Mr. Bittaye was slapped with unlawful inquiries to commit forgery charge.

Both accused persons admitted their innocence.

The prosecution read in court what appeared to be a revealing charge sheet. It accused Mr. Jobe of false publication on Daily Observer on December 19, 2012 alleging that “Major Lamin Touray was on the run from imminent re-arrest and detention and charge in absentia for breach of office ethics and by refusing to take orders in the execution of some people.”

His acts, among others, were committed with “intent to deceive, bring hatred and incite disaffection against the person of President Yahya Jammeh,” the court heard.

Mr. Bittaye’s single charge had to do with making inquiries at the Daily Observer with the “intent to make forged document on behalf of Lamin Touray,” an act meant to “deceive.”

Ends

Baboucarr Ceesay

Officials of the feared Gambia National Intelligence Agency (NIA) have released the kidnapped Gambian journalist after repeated denials of having him in custody.

Baboucarr Ceesay, the 1st Vice President of the local press union was abducted on the streets of Tallinding last Friday afternoon and whisked into a waiting vehicle.

“Baboucarr was kidnapped when he was going home with his brother after attending Friday prayers,” family sources said. He was forced into a vehicle without number plate by unidentified men. “The vehicle sped away and soon disappeared into the thin air.”

Nothing was heard about him, prompting his family and press freedom organizations to launch a search mission which bore no fruit as Gambian authorities remained on denial until Monday afternoon when they muster the courage and allowed the journalist to heave an air of freedom. It then became clear that he had all along been detained at the mosquito-infested dungeons of the NIA headquarters in Banjul for three nights. Baboucarr’s release was without the usual threats that “our investigation is still not complete.”

Until his whereabouts were known, many people raised concerns about the safety of Mr. Ceesay whose kidnapping came on the heels of disappearances of people in the custody of Gambian security.

A secret agent insider, who confirmed Mr. Ceesay’s detention at the NIA, said the journalist was being interrogated on the circumstances leading to Abubacarr Saidykhan’s escape to Senegal. They asked whether Mr. Ceesay too is planning to toe along the same line.

It could be recalled that Babucarr Ceesay and Abubacarr Saidykhan were arrested and detained in September last year after they applied for a permission to hold a peaceful protest against the execution of the nine death row inmates in the Gambia.

They were charged with seditious intention but the state later recanted to national and international pressures and dropped the charges. But continuous threats on the duo led Mr. Saidykhan to flee into self-imposed exile.

By Nanama Keita

Nanama is a great survivor!

It was on Tuesday July 19, 2011, when I mounted the defense box at the Banjul magistrates’ court. It was exactly two weeks when I was granted a court bail in the same court following my detention at mosquito-infested cells in Banjul on charges of giving false information to a public officer – the public officer here being no other than President Jammeh.

Adjacent to my defense box on this July 19 morning was a familiar face standing in the witness box. He was the state’s first prosecution witness aka PW1. Before the Nigerian magistrate could signal a start to the criminal case entitled “NANAMA KEITA vs INSPECTOR GENERAL OF POLICE”, the witness, like in any court proceeding, was obliged to swear to either a Bible or Quran, depending on his faith, to affirm that whatever he says would be the truth and only the truth. The witness was a Muslim, so he was handed a Holy Quran to repeat after the court clerk: “I Alagie Jobe do solemnly swear that whatever I say to this court will be the truth, nothing but the truth so help me God”. The general assumption is that when a witness swears to an oath in court, he/she would only stick to the truth. But in reality, only few do uphold this principle, and most would do so not out of fear of God, but the fear of getting hit with a perjury charge for lying under oath.

But with a perjury charge only existing on papers in Gambia, witnesses, most specially state witnesses, are at liberty to lie and most times they could be seen competing with each other on who could craft the most beautiful lies against the defense in return for state recognition. The treason trial of the former Gambia military boss, General Langtombong Tamba & Co. is a typical example where the “wholly untrue” testimonies of a pathological liar, Lamin Marreh, were used by the judge to condemn the former military chief and his co-accused to death. What a miscarriage of justice!

I wasn’t expecting my case to be any different. After half-and-hour into the trial that was literally moderated by the state prosecutor to the constant nodding of the state-controlled magistrate, I didn’t hear a single truth from the witness’ mouth, but only fabrications. Right from that dodgy beginning, I knew I couldn’t be hopeful. The open trial was just a “Kankurang Show”, for the final ruling had been reached long since under closed-doors. Freedom Newspaper has been one heck of a nightmare for President Jammeh & his government and here was a perfect opportunity for them to set a drastic example for its so-called informants in the country.

As I reflected on my trial proceedings later that day in my house, I found myself groping for answers as to why I was being victimized and traumatized for merely exposing a broad-day-light theft and injustice? Unable to find the right answers, I turned to God – the seer of all things done in light and darkness – for answers. I asked HIM to punish me only if I had wronged someone out of mischief; but that, if what I’ve been doing and saying were purely for the interest of all, then let HIM help me triumph over my enemies.

At this time, only God could’ve been my savior after circumstances made me an overnight outcast in the society. Out of work and facing a court battle against a brutal police state, I was also facing a cold war within my own township, Bakau. It had appeared that my trouble couldn’t have come at a worst time. Precisely two weeks before my problem started at Daily Observer, there were some disparaging reports on Freedom Newspaper alleging that the Bakau-based Rush Soccer Academy was engaged in a sophisticated human trafficking scheme where – according to Freedom Newspaper reports – a number of Gambians were being clandestinely trafficked into the U.S by the academy in exchange for hefty sum. And since my saga at Observer stemmed from my alleged connection with the same Freedom Newspaper, the general consensus among most Bakauins was obvious – I was the one behind the damaging ‘Rush Story’. To most of them, I was the reason they and their siblings won’t be traveling to America anymore, therefore seeing me at that present predicament was some form of a swift justice for them. “Nanama has spoiled the boys’ chances and that’s why he is expelled from work and now he’s prison-bound,” an official of the academy was reported to have told a gathering at the Bakau Bantaba.

Within the sport journalists’ fraternity, the Rush’s story and my purported link to Freedom Newspaper were also the main gossip topic during their sporadic meetings. A colleague journalist who’d only learnt of my case in one of such meetings would visit me in Bakau to relay the disparaging messages he had heard from his colleagues; that I was in fact writing for Pa Nderry Mbai; and that it’s the commissions I earned from Freedom Newspaper I used to buy a car; but that I’ve suddenly run out of luck after being caught red-handed with articles meant for the U.S-based website leading to my shock dismissal.

I was shocked to hear such allegations from my own colleagues, but I wasn’t surprised. Since day one, I was not everybody’s darling at SJAG. Following the ceremonious departure of Modou Nyang of Fooroya and Benjamin Wally Joof of West Coast Radio, coupled with the passivity of former City Limits Radio sports critic, Moses Ndeen, I was the only remaining critic of the association, as I continued to launch an open attack on its leadership for their usage of the association’ name to secure international travels among other dodgy dealings. My open defiance and scathing criticism had made me an ‘unwanted rebel’ in the group. So my imminent downfall couldn’t be a bad news for them.

During these trying moments when blows were coming from all angles, my inner conscience became my best defense mechanism. Most of them had already made up their mind. So I didn’t have to convince them that I’m innocent, because they won’t believe me anyway. The few pals that know me well to know that I’d never mince my words were never swayed away. They know my hands were clean and it’s their trust + my own clear conscience that kept me moving. Besides, I wasn’t that bothered with the Rush academy saga, but the very court battle I was facing against the state.

EXIT DECISION

On Wednesday, July 20, 2011 – just a day after the full commencement of my trial – I made a personal decision that I would leave the country and that I would leave fast. The NIAs had seized my passport way back in April 2011 when I first became their subject of interest, but unbeknown to them, I was having a second passport just in case of such eventualities. However, to leave the country, I knew I would need cash. So I’d wanted to cancel my mortgage plan with Social Security and Housing Finance Corporation (SSHFC) where I had paid a little over one hundred thousand Dalasis for a plot of land at Jabang Estate in the Kombos. But requesting a cash-back from a government institution when I was under state-led investigation could raise an alarm bell, so I aborted the plan. Instead, I quickly sold off my car at a loss price, before deciding that I would leave the country on Saturday, July 23, 2011. With no foreign visa on my passport, I was left to choose from two difficult choices, each carrying dire consequences. Plan A was to fly to Lagos where I would apply for a Swedish visitor’s visa. But since I couldn’t be 100% sure that my application would be granted, I’d plan B in place where I would travel to Dakar to apply for a refugee status before seeking for a resettlement. But with a number of Gambian dissidents already living in the fairly expensive French-speaking city for years with no resettlement program, I know I was out for some bitter options. With my vehicle sold off and my mini-luggage packed ahead of the weekend journey, I couldn’t stop starring at my two innocent little daughters, with tears rolling down my chubby cheeks each time I thought of the uncertain journey I was about to undertake without them.

GOD’S DIVINE INTERVENTION

However, with less than 24hrs before my planned weekend exit came an unexpected development that I would later coin as ‘God’s Devine Intervention’. Just a few weeks before my arrest, detention and subsequent arraignment in court, I had applied for a UN fellowship program. At the time, I was just a suspect and on NIA bail. The United Nations headquarters in New York had asked its local office in Banjul – UNDP – to nominate four Gambian journalists through the Gambia Press Union (GPU) for an intensive, but lucrative seven-week fellowship program in New York. Four journalists were to be nominated, but only one would be selected by the UN selection team on the basis his/her journalistic astuteness.

So since I was under the NIA’s radar where I was reporting to its head office three times a week as stipulated in my bail condition, some guys at GPU saw the UN program as a perfect chance to help me get out of the ditch. I was nominated alongside three other local journalists to gun for the single slot. We’d be asked by the selection team to write two essays stating why we should be selected for the program and how we intend to utilize the experience gathered. We’re asked to submit the essays alongside three samples of our recently published work. A brief telephone interview with the selection team to test our English speaking abilities capped the selection process, before we’re asked to wait for a final decision. It was during this waiting period that my case got so aggravated that I’d forgotten about the UN program. I was now in a desperate situation that required a desperate action and fleeing the country was the option I’d decided on.

In the evening of Friday, July 22, just a few hours before my planned departure, I decided to pass-by a nearby internet café after some round of scrabble games at the Bakau Bantaba to check my mails. But what I would find in my inbox after logging into my account on this day would leave me goose-bumped for minutes. An official confirmation & invitation for the United Nations fellowship all attached to a single mail copied to both UNDP & American Embassy in Banjul was just too good to be true. I’d to peruse the documents over and over just to be sure that I wasn’t dreaming. But it was true that I was the selected nominee and now I didn’t have to undertake any uncertain trip to Nigeria or Senegal. In the UN invitation, the American consular was kindly urged to schedule a fast-tracked interview for my visa so that they could finalize my air tickets in the busy travel season. On Monday, July 25, 2011, I submitted my completed visa application online and my interview date was fixed for Thursday, July 28, just a day after my birthday.

MY VISA INTERVIEW

In those few days leading to my interview at the embassy, I had been fairly nervous. Yes, I’d a UN invitation which is almost a guarantee for an approval, but I couldn’t forget that I was not just any ordinary applicant. I was under a court bail facing a criminal charge in a heavily publicized trial. I feared this could factor negatively on my application. But the fact that it was politically motivated gave me some hope. So to be on a safer side, I decided to stick to the truth. I had answered “Yes”, and then explained, in the portion of the application form that asks whether one has ever been arrested or charged. “I would still have a chance to explain should it be an issue at the interview,” I would assure myself.

At exactly 8:00am on Thursday, July 28, I was standing in the queue with a bevy of applicants for final submission and decision making-interview. It was just few minutes before one of my biggest tests in my life and I was both nervous and highly uneasy. With persistent struggle, however, I was able to pull myself together before my turn. Suddenly, my name was announced. A minute-long finger-printing exercise paved the way for me to face the interviewing officer with only a transparent glass separating us.

“Nanama, why do you want to travel to the United States?” he asked in a soft tone. “To attend a UN fellowship program,” I answered in a calm voice. “Do you have any press card to confirm your profession as a journalist?” he added. “Yes, I do,” I responded before passing him my accreditation card from the 2010 FIFA World Cup finals. His third question: “Which countries have you visited in the last five years?”. UAE, India, South Africa, Ethiopia…but before I could land, he cut in: “Ok Nanama, I’m going to approve your application. You can come and pick up your visa on Monday at 5:00pm. Have a safe travel to the United States.” I was goose-bumped on hearing this so I could only murmur a low “thank you, sir” in response before I quickly varnished from the embassy premises. While heading home, I placed a phone call to a friend informing him of the jackpot I just hit, but that it should remain a top secret. The three days that I had to wait before seeing the visa on my passport remain the longest days ever in my life to date. I heard it from the consular that my application had been approved, but I wanted to see it with my naked eyes in order to be hundred percent sure. Finally, it was Monday evening and I was at hand at the embassy to pick up the visa. When I was handed my passport, I quickly ran through its pages before spotting the silver-like stamp with my photo inscribed on it. The consular was so kind enough to grant me a five-year multiple entry visa even when all I needed was just a single entry that will get me to the U.S.

Now that the much needed visa was finally secured, I’d turn to the United Nations to make one final request. I was already in trouble with the state thus I can’t travel from the local airport. So I asked the UN office to book my flight from Dakar instead. That request would require an approval from top, I was told, but eventually it was approved. On Thursday, August 4, 2011, I received my e-tickets from New York with my flight itinerary. My departure date was scheduled for September 11, 2011 and my departure point was Leopold Sedar Senghor International Airport in Dakar.

FINAL COUNTDOWN

With my visa and air tickets in hand, I was facing only one concern in my final countdown to Banjul exit – The one month that I had to wait before my September 11 flight. Initially, I decided I should immediately cross the border to Dakar to wait for my flight, but with Gambian agents roaming the streets of Dakar on daily basis, a month-long wait in the city with the news of my fleeing fueling in the streets of Banjul could be disastrous. So I decided I would lie low until a time that my case is adjourned to a date that falls beyond September 11 before I could sneak out of the country. By this plan, I would have already arrived in New York before my exit could be confirmed with a ‘no-show’ in court. So on August 15, I headed to court for the resumption of my trial. By this time, there was a new witness (PW2) installed in the witness box. And just like his PW1 counterpart, PW2 was very economical with the truth. But at this time, and knowing what only few knew, I couldn’t care much. In between his lies, I’d stretch my hands in my defense box with smile beaming on my face. I wasn’t smiling at his lies, but the constant thought of what I was about to do and how it was gonna wow people. By the end of August, the Koriteh fever was gripping the nation and there were some minor changes at the court with the transfer of the magistrate sitting over my case, so there was a setback. Following the installment of a new magistrate, a new date was set for my trial. It was September 12, 2011 – just a day shy of my scheduled departure date for New York. It was the date I’d been timing and by the time they’d ask about my whereabouts in court, I would already have been in New York and beyond their reach. So on the night of September 3, barely a week before D-Day, I hired someone to cross with my luggage to the Senegalese border. In the evening of the next day, September 4, I had my final moments with family and unsuspecting friends, consumed with a terrible thought that I might not see some of them ever again. To be continued…

Ends

By Baba Galleh Jallow

Dr. Baba Galleh Jallow

Sometimes, we got tired of looking at Genamin DaMidget’s ugly face and hearing his bogus rantings. At such times, we averted our gaze and looked at other interesting characters in No-Talk Republic, the likes of Hotfoot Coldy and Wawaw Daydate. Such characters added flavor to our mix and often offered what amounted to free entertainment in No-Talk Republic by their curious actions and wayward ways. But above everyone else, we liked to watch the famous Heyhey Nopilen display his legendary skills of speech and choice regarding just what would happen in the future life of our country when Gyant DaMidget grew so old and tired that he would have no option but to fall by the wayside and allow time to march on.

Heyhey Nopilen was a learned fellow, no doubt about that. Everyone acknowledged the great depth of his learning and recognized the great facility with which he espoused his various theories and swam in the deep blue sea of knowledge like a fish puffing up the water once in a while, diving this way and that, and often jumping sky high and plunging back in with admirable dexterity. He reminded us of the great whale in Moby Dick as he swam alongside the ship of life and made it known to everyone that he, Heyhey Nopilen, was an invincible guy whose word was gold and whose sight was silver. And we all knew that he was not bluffing because he took all the time he needed to put things straight and chart just the course that the world must follow in order to avoid all future dangers and march on to the great promised land of perfect peace and abiding glory. On to Berlin! he would often shriek, thrusting his fist into the air in the manner of those great orators of history who moved mountains with their words of wisdom and stopped hurricanes with a wave of the hand.

Truth be told, Heyhey Nopilen was a learned fellow of no mean credentials. He held a Bachelor of Tights Degree in Loose Studies from Quarrel University, a Master of Shoves Degree in Pushaside Techniques from Bottleneck University, and a doctorate in Advanced Dislike Erasing Techniques from the world famous University of No Studies. He also held a string of advanced graduate and postgraduate certificates from universities as diverse as Chuut College, the University of Rural Dreamland, and Fahasu Community College. When he got especially motivated in one of his interesting presentations, Heyhey Nopilen wasted no time in outlining all his academic qualifications from these great colleges and universities and reminding his audience that he knew what he was talking about and that he understood his topic more than anyone else in the world, even his former lecturers and professors who introduced him to the world of advanced academia in the first place, not to mention impudent and ignorant upstarts who pretended to be wise. He particularly disliked Genamin Gyant DaMidget and would call him such uncomplimentary names as windbag and empty-barrel-make-more-noise. As far as Heyhey Nopilen was concerned, Second Genamin Gyant DaMidget was nothing but an ignorant elephant on mosquito legs who did not even know where his plastic mouth was located on his wooden face.

Heyhey Nopilen claimed to be an expert in more fields than we can possibly list in a single narrative of this scope and length. He claimed to be an expert in such diverse fields as mooching techniques, the politics of jumping, the principles of pretense, academic recycling, musing dynamics, advanced growling, scientific choosing, air bending, time bending, and future mending among many other subjects. His academic claims were often so overwhelming that we all loudly groaned and cleared our throats in order to hear him more clearly. We begged him to slow down a bit so that we could catch up and not miss a word of the great wisdom he was so generously imparting. But the learned Heyhey Nopilen would pay no heed to our groans and our noisy coughs and would just hurtle straight ahead at hundred miles per hour, leaving some of us slower folks way back as he proceeded furiously forward into the future of knowledge and wisdom.

“I know better than everyone else just what’s best for the world,” he would chirp. “And that’s not just metaphorically speaking. It’s real, it’s real,” he would say, his learned head bobbing on his shoulders like a block of black foam on the high sea of life. “I see with my comet eyes what no ordinary eyes can see. And when I tell you I know what’s best I don’t expect you to question my choice because it’s real, it’s real,” he would add, wearing his metaphorical sober look and letting his cheeks slightly tremble, bubble and burst as a way of showing just how serious he was. “I have been up and down the high wall of knowledge,” he would stress, “and I have dived into the deep sea of human experience. I have encountered sharp-toothed sharks in the ocean of wisdom and I have defeated them all. So if I tell you I know what’s best and who’s best you should listen to me. I don’t like arguing with little folks and I won’t tell you to put your hand into the jaws of danger or to walk down a snaky road. Take my advice and all will be well,” he would loudly muse.

At that point, we all generally loudly groaned again and noisily cleared our throats, hoping that the learned Heyhey Nopilen would slow down just a tiny wee bit and let us take a deep breath and soak it in before he proceeded with his jaw-dropping, brain-shaking exposition. But our learned Nopilen was never one to be stopped by groans or noisy coughs. He would heave a mighty sigh and plunge headlong right into the depths of advanced knowledge while we less endowed folks just held our mouths and loudly wondered just how he knew so much that was so unknowable; how he was so certain of the absolutely uncertain. Some of us thought that Heyhey Nopilen was a loose cannon zooming across the sky of life and bound to land in the thirsty desert of disillusionment.

Baboucarr Ceesay: My life is in God’s hands!

One of the Gambia’s protest-seeking journalists has escaped what is believed to be a state-sponsored abduction last week. Baboucarr Ceesay believes that his “life is in the hand of God and acts intimidating my family must stop. I have not committed any crime that I should be picked for. I deserve no harassment.”

Mr. Ceesay, the 1^st Vice President of the local press union, and freelance journalist Abubacarr Saidykhan were arrested, detained and charged for applying to demonstrate against the Gambia government’s execution of nine death row inmates in August last year. After hues and cries, charges were dropped against the duo. They were not however allowed to breathe peace, resulting to fleeing of Mr. Saidykhan.

Baboucarr’s alleged abductors stormed his Tallinding home on February 13 at 10 AM, inquiring about the journalist’s whereabouts. One Ebrima Badjie alias E Boy, who faked his identity, lied to Mr. Ceesay’s wife Mam Darboe that he was going to deliver the money sent by husband’s brother.

He refused Mam’s request to leave the money with her. “This is a money matter so it is it unsafe to deliver it to a third party,” the purported spy complained. E Boy then lit a cigarette and left only to bounce back calling Baboucarr’s brother claiming to be a school mate of him. He soon disappeared before the brother emerged.

Baboucarr arrived home only to be confronted with another bizarre story. A track suit wearing young girl who claimed to be Isatou Sanneh visited his house seeking assistance to write an application for a post of reporter at the Daily Observer newspaper. She never came back when asked to return with a draft application for editing.

Mr. Ceesay was engulfed in suspicion and decided to find out the connection between the two visits. He found E Boy and Ms. Sanneh somewhere in the neighbourhood discussing and making telephone calls. He heard the two saying, “He is there with his wife and a young man.” The two were accused of abducting and spying for the state.

Later two unidentified men came and went straight to Ceesay’s house but could not find him.

“My brothers, wife and other family members could not sleep on the night of Wednesday 13 February. They recalled the death threat I received together with Abubacarr Saidykhan, that we will be killed like Eid rams. I believe that my life is in the hand of God and acts of intimidating my family must stop. I have not committed any crime that I should be picked for. I deserve no harassment,” he said, saying it not clear to him why anyone “plans to abduct me.”

Ends

By Nanama Keita

Nanama Keita

Once a perceived Jammeh faithful and now his staunch critic, one would wonder why a past photo of him and I would pass a profile photo test to appear on my Face Book page. But aside the joke it’s meant to create, I also have to admit that I can’t just erase the past just because it doesn’t fit in the present.

At least I’d once worked at a Jammeh-owned institution where I had been both his faithful and critics at the same time. Like all of us, Jammeh has two sides – bad and good sides – but unlike others, the stark difference between his two sides and their unpredictability is what stands him out as the Jammeh we all know – the never forgiving Dictator. If you meet President Jammeh and get to know him a little bit, you would be forgiven for mistaken him as the ‘Saint’ you’re searching for – generous and always willing to satisfy. Unless one employs some bit of critical thinking while on the same page with him, you’ll never get to know the “True Jammeh”. This sober and critical judgment is what they lack, those who continue to see him as the kindest and the infallible president. Personally, I would admit that I had once in a while supported President Jammeh certain actions. And until the August 2012 secret and shocking execution of the harmless prisoners in Banjul, I used to reserve some bit of admiration for this monster – thanks to his anti-corruption and anti-bullying stand. I know some of you would be surprise to hear this from me, but President Jammeh doesn’t entertain things like corruption and bullying. At least not from from his government officials! In fact, Jammeh’s certain actions – where he’d hastily send some people to prison without even a court order – are his very misguided attempts to forcefully stamp out the corrupt and bully officials. His moves in these areas also explain why the son/daughter of a state minister or director would comport him/herself well in public places like schools knowing fully well that gone are days when they’re untouchable. But this said, you would tend to wonder who President Jammeh really is and what he stands for in my eyes.

My personal and honest description of President Jammeh would point him out as the worst bully and the most corrupt person Gambia has ever have. Yes, he won’t entertain corruption and bullying from others, but he is the master in these trades. In a nutshell, Jammeh believes only him should be/do certain things in Gambia. For Jammeh, only him should be praised in public, only him should be rich, only him should be fame, only him should be seen as most compassionate and caring person in the country.

While working under him, one is likely to be spared as long as you recognize these unwritten norms and rules, but the moment you’re seen as a competitor, you can be rest assured that you’d forfeit your head as the ultimate price. It’s the heavy price people like Baba Jobe and General Langtombong Tamba have to pay. His one-time close associates, these two distinct individuals were at one time – but at different times – so influential and popular that they would be touted interim president when Jammeh was away from town. Just like Jammeh, the duo also very generous with financial gifts. Their unsuspecting actions coupled with their status had made them potential competitors for wealth, fame and status. They won’t last long in his government. There are many Baba Jobes and General Tambas who became innocent victims of the system for breaking the tradition. In fact, what makes Jammeh worst aside his acts of corruption and bullying is his sensitivity, paranoia and above all his readiness to kill anyone that dares threaten his grip on absolute power.

I could publicly display a President Jammeh photo lest I forget who he really is. Unlike others, I don’t necessarily have beef with a person who had/is working with Jammeh, but what this person had/is doing while serving him. To simply put it, I would only have beef with those who would directly aid him in his acts of terror and/or those who would use their influence to harm rather than help others. While in Jammeh’s govt, you can always play the cards, though not forgetting that you would also be played by the same cards at some point. Always gripped with constant fear and uncertainty, the Jammeh-led system is a funny system where not necessarily the big fish, but the smart fish can easily maneuver. Being part of the system that can only be likened to a game musical chair comes with certain privileges and one has a choice to use those privileges in either good or bad way before your time comes knocking. While in Gambia, I had driven my personal vehicle until my final moments in the country with neither insurance nor license. And I myself had never had a driver’s license… yet I was never busted by the police simply because I was in the system. In fact, many a time I would pass-by the Mobile Traffic Headquarters in Kanifing – where I used to have a crush on a beautiful female police officer – for a chat without fearing my for my uninsured and unlicensed vehicle.

Also a scenario would present itself at Bakau Police Station one night that would see me put my little influence into play. A domestic dispute had seen over four family members detained at the police station. And since their arrests were effected around mid-night, the unwritten rule was that they could not be bailed until the next morning. Some family members had pleaded with the junior officers to secure their bail but the adamant officers would refuse on the ground that the only person who could approve after-mid-night bail was the Station Officer (SO) who at the time was sleeping. When my attention was drawn to the case, I went straight to the station before waking the SO from his sleep to secure their bail. The following day, I would pass by the station to give the SO the sum of D500 with a firm statement that I wasn’t bribing him but was merely thanking him for his kind gesture in heeding to my request even when I was young enough to be his son. I did this just to show appreciation because I knew the SO didn’t listen to me because he’d expected something, but because I was in the system. At the immigration department, it would take me just four hours to acquire my second passport (that would eventually be my savior after my problem) just because I was in the system. When I needed to process a visa in Dakar and didn’t have the time to go and do it myself, a two-line letter with my passport and two passport-sized photos were all I needed for the Foreign Affairs to make it happen within weeks – all these because I was in the system. I would put a state minister or a permanent secretary on hold to complete a scrabble game because I was in the system. Now compare those moments to a time when I was out of the system. I would rather have someone with a license to drive or at least avoid areas with police check points knowing that they could use the slightest violation I commit to nail me down. This was the time a once ‘popular face’ was replaced with a ‘criminal face’ on the newspapers. It was the time my little influence and status – that had been my fence – had ceased to exist. But despite by expulsion, I still manage to hold my head up high knowing that I didn’t harm even a fly while I was in the system. If there is anything that I owe or didn’t do right while there, then that would be my driving violations where I drove without the required paper works.

Those of you who only came to know me recently might be forgiven for thinking that I only started criticizing Jammeh after my coming to America. I have always possessed a critical mind-set and though not as public as it’s presently, I have always criticized the system for its unending rights violations. And I have done this right from the editorial rooms of the Daily Observer to the streets of Bakau. Yes, since arriving in America, I become more frequent and direct with my criticism and this is simply because I have to enforce the Mandinka saying that: “If you’re going to die in the sea, you have to make sure you die right in the middle and not on the shores.” Meaning since the Gambia is a NO-GO area for me with Jammeh in charge, I would be the loser if I’m to further censor myself. Thus I’ve to capitalize on my new-found freedom to say whatever I want knowing that I’ve nothing to lose. No matter my past relations with the man who can be so sensitive to the slightest criticism he receives, I would be a fool to think that Jammeh would be forgiving… Oops! My phone battery is down so I get to stop here. But not without adding that if President Jammeh should have a pardon list, I would have no doubt that all but two names would never feature in that list – Pa Nderry Mbai and Nanama Keita.