Senegalese Artists and Gambian Audience – A One Way Freeway

As far as I can remember, Senegalese music has always been in my ambient surroundings. Allow me go to give a little background; my Grandma’s radio used to play Madina Sabakh and Ndiaga Mbaye songs, and I grew up listening and dancing to Senegalese music too, particularly, the music of Youssou Ndour, Thione Seck and Omar Pene. Their music was played at almost every social function. A Thione Seck song is quite long though, approximately 35 minutes, enough to significantly wear out your dancing shoes.

Momodou & Youssour N'dour at Golden Gate Park, San Francisco

To say that Gambian and Gambians played an integral role in building and nurturing their careers would be an understatement, especially Youssou Ndour’s. Youssou started coming to Gambia as a teenager, when his musical talent was at its infancy; his music partially ripe and his voice moderately rich. He used to run-away from home and cross the border into Gambia with his band. This was prior to his father’s approval of his music profession. Most of us have witnessed Youssou’s music evolve from “ndaga” to “mbalax”, and have cheerfully watched him blossom into a superstar and become a world-renowned singer. It is nearly impossible to talk about African music without invoking the name and music of Youssou Ndour, and Gambian audiences have been there from the inception – supporting and encouraging him. Gambians are always excited beyond containment when Youssou Ndour is coming to town. A new outfit is what the doctor will always order. The relationship between the artist and his captivating audience has always been magical!

Over the years, lots of other Senegalese artists have followed in the footsteps of Youssou, Thione and Omar. Virtually every popular and successful Senegalese artist’s career was partly built in Gambia. The majority of them frequent Gambia to play concerts that are generally sold out, and patrons shower them with cash and jewelry, including those who can least afford it. Every time a Senegalese artist visits Gambia, he/she will make out like a bandit, in cash and kind. Not only do the audiences pay to attend their shows, they throw money at them too, especially when their name is called out in a song by the artist (woyan). Some patrons will even lobby to have their name on the “woyan” list. It is the fastest way to gain fifteen minutes of fame, second only to a spectacular scandal, and some Gambians will give an arm and a leg to have their name on such a list. Beside those on the “woyan” list, there are other private individuals who have adopted some of these Senegalese artists; they host them when they are in town and provide them with a temporary life of luxury, Gambian style. You will sometimes hear artists give a shout out to some of these individuals in their recorded songs (deew sangam sa Gambia, belai yaa bakh!).

Gambia is known to be a small and relatively poor country, but not to Senegalese artists. For them,

Gambia is an orchard garden full of money trees that are always ripe for the picking. One after the other, they come to harvest. In the past two decades, Gambia’s president too has become the biggest and tallest “money tree”, always bearing fruit. Numerous praise songs have been sung of him by some of these artists in exchange for some raw cash. Senegalese artists have now found themselves in the center of Gambia’s economy, a comfortable location that allows them to collect money from the state and the people. Double-dip! This relationship between Senegalese artists and Gambian audience is not limited to Gambia; it has now spilled over beyond the boundaries of the country into the Diaspora. The scenario is the same in Atlanta, Seattle and London. Gambians have always gone above and beyond in supporting Senegalese artists, and sometimes to their detriment. Even mediocre artists are cashing in too. Do Gambians now see this as a duty?

Most Gambians and Senegalese alike will tell you that Gambia and Senegal are the same – same people, food, cultural practices, and local languages. Many Gambians have relatives in Senegal, and vice versa, thus making that statement true for all intents and purposes. But the relationship between Senegalese artists and Gambian audience is a different story; it is ONE WAY FREEWAY and Gambians audiences keep on giving and giving, and some in hopes of a sheer mention of their name in a song. What exactly is the value of such mention and what does it attain or validate? The desire to collect more tolls from Gambians by Senegalese artists has also intensified; some of them are directly calling Gambians asking them for money or material items, they can no longer wait for the upcoming concerts to collect. There are lots of exclamations of disbelief in some of the stories I’ve heard and the ones I personally know about. Seems like some Gambians just can’t have enough of Senegalese artists, and are willing to do what ever it takes to keep them pleased, but most importantly, get a verbal confirmation from them about their kindness and generosity (belai yaa bakh). There is definitely value in entertainment, but what is its worth and when does it become foolishly overvalued?

Whether out of a false sense of duty or detrimental generosity, Gambians continue to heavily support Senegalese artists. The question now is: should Senegalese artists also give back to exhibit their appreciation? If we go by the notion that Gambia and Senegal are the same and the people and culture are intertwined, then they should, in my opinion. Among all the Senegalese artists, Youssou Ndour is arguably the most successful by far, with major investments in Senegal. He has invested the proceeds of his music sales to establish one of a handful of independent television and newspaper groups. But I have no knowledge of a single investment he has made in Gambia. And if he deems the economic climate in Gambia is not suitable for him to invest, then he should consider possibly hiring a decent amount of Gambians to work in his various investments in Senegal. I’m confident a few do qualify. Starting a foundation in Gambia to support the Arts is also not a bad idea, and Youssou should ponder on that as well. As Gambian artists continue to warm the bench waiting for their turn to shine, they will definitely benefit from something like this to help hone their skills. This idea of giving back should not only be limited to Youssou Ndour alone, the likes of Vivian,Titi, Assan Njie, Pape Diouf and Thione Seck should also consider it. It’s satisfying to take, but it is immensely rewarding to give back.

Senegal is undoubtedly more advanced in the arts compared to Gambia. Moreover, it is considerably bigger with a population of 13.5 million compared to Gambia’s 1.5 million. It is a country that has made enormous contributions to African arts and culture and inspired centuries of poetry, music, literature, dance, and the visual arts. The artistic quality and talent pool there is much more superior. Senegal is also a politically conscious nation where citizens cherish and jealously guard their sweet and tasty democracy, and the recent demonstration against the ex-president, Abdoulie Wade, is a true testament to that. They are very much aware of the political situation in Gambia, and even lampoon the president on TV for his tyrannical ways. An artist like Ouza Diallo (a highly politically conscious artist) has for decades sang songs of protest against the Senegalese government, but is now singing praise songs for Gambia’s tyrant in exchange for cash. I wonder what happened there.

Music has long been a part of every struggle including the antislavery movement in the nineteenth century, the labor movement in the twentieth century, the anti-apartheid movement in South Africa, but the civil rights movement brought a new level of intensity of singing that left a legacy of “freedom songs” now sung all around the world. If Senegal and Gambia are truly the same, then Senegalese artists should show their solidarity in this regard, and not sing the praise of Gambia’s tyrant for cash. In a 2/19/12 interview with The Sunday Telegraph, Youssou Ndour said the following “we are allowing a dictatorship to set in here. Senegal needs to free itself, to rediscover its democracy.” I wish Youssou could publicly say the same about Gambia. After all, Gambia and Senegal are the same.

This piece is meant to only examine the relationship between Senegalese artist and Gambian audience.  

The Enlightenment

Human reason is one of the major factors that separate us from animals. Reasoning is the capacity for consciously making sense of things and applying logic for establishing and verifying facts. It is also the principle used for changing or justifying practices, institutions, and beliefs based on new and existing information. It is a definitive human characteristic. 

Through reasoning, human beings were able to get out of the DARK AGES and into the era of The Enlightenment (1650 – 1800). The Age of The Enlightenment brought us modern science, philosophy, mathematics and the technologies that are making what was once impossible – possible. It was during this period that John Locke (the English philosopher) argued that human beings are naturally equal, free, and capable (through reason) of defining the common good. He further argued that human beings have “Natural Rights” including the right to life, liberty, property and just treatment by the ruling order, and should revolt against tyranny. 

The same “Natural Rights” are also echoed in the Holy Bible and the Holy Quran. Understanding the human condition was the first step towards human progress and the improvement of human life. So it is no doubt then, that we saw the beginning of social sciences – such as, anthropology, sociology, economics, and political science within the same time frame. With the focus on the study of humankind, these new disciplines were used to better understand social order. Although Locke’s arguments didn’t stop slavery, they did inspire Thomas Jefferson (a slave owner himself) when he drafted the Declaration of Independence, which in turn motivated Abraham Lincoln to put forth the Emancipation Proclamation ending slavery.

Based on the notion of human beings having “Natural Rights” including the right to life, liberty, property and just treatment by the ruling order; it is then safe to conclude that tyranny is unnatural. There is a social contract between government and the governed, and the natural rights of the governed must be preserved. While citizens may willingly consent to give up some of their liberty for a ruler’s protection, they may never surrender their ultimate authority. That belongs to them! Government must only referee between the exercise of one person’s liberty and that of the next. If a ruler becomes tyrannical or oppressive, the people not only have the right but obligation to revoke their mandate and seek a new ruler.  These were the ideas that inspired the American and French Revolutions towards the eighteenth century.

Unfortunately, tyranny and oppression are still prevalent in the world today. In certain countries, citizens have been relegated to the DARK AGES and forced to view their rulers as God-like and provide them with free labor. Poor people are suffering under tyranny and the world is lazily watching. One such place is Gambia! 

The contours of the country have changed, it is now an elastic place with boundaries that expand and the rules have become fragile and easily broken. Institutions have been manipulated and high jacked for the sole purpose of oppression. Freedom of speech has become a luxury too expensive to even put on a layaway plan. The right to life, liberty, property and just treatment by the ruling order has all but evaporated. According to John Locke  “whether people become brutish or otherwise depend solely on their experience and their environment.” I believe this now more than ever. A country that was once known as “The Smiling Coast”, has now earned her right into the history books as a tyrannical state. The arbitrary decisions and actions of ONE MAN continues to further isolate what used to be a warm and welcoming country. My heart gets heavy when I think of the Gambia I lived in, and the Gambia that exists now.

Gambia’s current predicament has created numerous oppositions groups and generated a lot of debate, but the groups are scattered and the debates are messy. Any opposition is better than none, but a unified and structured opposition is ideal. For us to have a fruitful debate, we need to focus on the ideas presented and not the person presenting the ideas. The discourse should be about the issues! A countless number of Gambians are now well traveled and exposed to other cultures, so I see no reason why folks cannot seem to draw from their experiences to hold better debates and form a united front. I’ve noticed that baseless arrogance is rampant among Gambians, and I wonder to what degree it has hindered the process of unification. Could it be that some confuse arrogance with confidence? 

The word “intellectual” is very loosely used by Gambians and it’s starting to scare me. There is a certain discipline and principle necessary to be referred to as an “intellectual”, which is lacking among most Gambians. In my opinion, the “intellectual label” should be reserved for certain thinkers whose contributions can be used for the betterment of society. The majority of Gambians are still learning to use their college degrees outside of getting a job, if you ask me. So I am really perplexed by the unnecessary arrogance I see.

Regardless, I will always consider myself a Gambian. In fact, I will not even allow myself to think otherwise. But, being a Gambian only identifies me it does not define me. It is only a part of who I am. It is my experiences in life that defines me, not any particular geographical location. I can be contended and fulfilled anywhere. Our life experiences are not the same and we all have a different turning point in life, and that needs to be recognized. We should not expect each other to think alike. Some Gambians have denied themselves the opportunity to grow by staying inside the box, and by so doing, may have caused themselves a huge disservice. Life is a process of growth and evolution. The person you knew twenty-five years ago may not be the same person today, based on their life experiences. This does not necessary mean that they’ve changed, it only means that they’ve grown and evolved.

Alcohol and African Society – Rituals, Sociabilities, Social problem

Alcohol is probably the most ancient and widespread psychoactive substance in the world. It is a naturally occurring substance wherever free-floating carbohydrates are available and thus is widely known and used. Clearly, there are alcohol uses related to health, nutrition, entertainment, religion, and a variety of other social activities. Alcohol has for centuries played a prominent role in the social and religious life of African societies south of the Sahara.


As early as the eleventh century A.D., Al-Bakri (The Andalusian Muslim geographer and historian) described offerings of alcoholic drinks in royal funeral rites in the kingdom of Ghana. It is clear from the dotted references that alcohol pervaded the African continent, and the consumption, exchange, or offering of alcoholic beverages was often a central element in the ritual life of communities. Before the latter part of the nineteenth century, distillation was largely unknown and imported distilled drinks were confined to a few areas; but virtually every community produced one or more types of fermented drinks from grain, fruits, honey, palm sap or sugar cane.

Indigenous alcohol and rituals – Origins of Palm Wine and its ritual use

Among all the fermented drinks in West Africa palm wine was the most popular. The origins of the use of palm wine in the Gold Coast is masked in myth and mystery, but an examination of these myths shed light on the perception of alcohol as the locus of sacred power and early concerns about the potential profaning of this fluid through substantive abuse. Carl Christian Reindorf recorded two oral anecdotes on the origin of palm wine.

The Fante king had a celebrated hunter called Ansa, who went hunting for him. Ansa had a dog, which accompanied him on hunting and scouting excursions. It happened that in one of his hunting excursions, he found a palm-tree, which had been knocked down by an elephant, and a hole made in the trunk of the tree by its foot. It seems that the sagacious animal had long known the secret of tapping the palm-tree, and had long enjoyed the delicious but intoxicating sap that it yielded.

(Photo taken from the New Zealand

Digital Library Website)

The hunter, perceiving some sap oozing freely from the orifice made by the elephant, was half inclined to taste it, but fearing that it might be poisonous gave some to his dog, who seemed to relish it greatly. Finding that his dog took a liking to this new liquor, the following morning he drank so freely of the sap of the palm-tree that he got fairly intoxicated.

Ansa soon found the best way of tapping the tree and took a pot to the king. The king liked the taste so much that he overindulged, got drunk, and fell into a deep sleep. The king’s people, failing to arouse him, concluded he had been poisoned by Ansa. Ansa was apprehended and beheaded and since then, the sap of the palm tree received the name of Ansa, which is corrupted into “nsa”.

Reindorf records another anecdote of the origin of palm wine. Wirempong Ampong, a hunter of Chief Akaro Fireampong of Abadwiren, with his dog discovered split palm trees on the ground. Again the juice was offered to the dog first and the liquid found to be harmless. The hunter gave some of the palm wine to chief Firampong, who in turn introduced his friend Anti Kyei of Akrokyere into drinking palm wine. Then Anti Kyei over indulged and died as a consequence. To prevent blood shed, as a result of the desire of Anti Kyei’s friends to take revenge, Firampong committed suicide.

Mythical explanation of the origin of indigenous alcohol, as Luc de Heusch has illustrated in his central African study, can, sometimes, shed light on the peoples world view. The Akan myths may implicitly shed light on how palm wine, and later European liquor, came to occupy such central roles in the religious life of Akans and the other ethnic groups of the southern Gold Coast. The early Akan users of palm wine were baffled by its intoxicating quality. In two of the myths on the origin of palm wine, the king and his high priest fell into drunken sleep assumed to be dead. Their recovery amazed their followers: almost “ a return from the dead.”

Then alcohol, in the Akan context, was often used in rituals involving the ancestors- for example, when new members were added to the family or when ancestral lands were leased. It is possible that the intoxicating quality of alcohol, enacted in the myths of palm wine in an almost miraculous “return from the dead,” lay its choice as a medium of communication between the living and the dead. That a hunter discovered palm wine underscored its spiritual connection. Within most African societies, hunters, in their intimacy with nature, were seen as maintaining close connections with the supernatural world.

An early desire to guard palm wine against abuse is discernible in the myth. In both versions it is not mentioned if the king or Anti Kyei drank with anybody, so it may be safe to conclude that they drank alone. Also, in all the traditions of the origins of palm wine, tragedy (death) resulted. Akans frowned on solitary drinking. It was seen as a sign of a troubled person. Communal drinking was the norm, and solitary drinking was perceived as an antisocial act. In the several Akan traditions about the origin of palm wine, excessive solitary drinking resulted in tragedy. The emphasis on tragedy was reflected in a real-life ambivalence towards alcohol. Although alcohol was central to all-important ceremonies like rites of passages and festivals, its use was always public and communal and was circumscribed by rules and regulations.

Social Drinking

It is in the less ritualized social drinking that one sees the connection between alcohol, generosity, patronage, wealth, and power. The powerful saw possession and use of abundant palm wine as an index of wealth. As male elders had control over land and labor, they had more access to palm wine. In fact, by having palm wine available at all times in the house, an elder displayed his control over land and labor – that is, political power and wealth. Although young men tapped palm wine, they did not control its consumption. Taboos banned women from working on economically important palm trees.

Royal largesse and power were reflected in the generous distribution of alcohol to all and sundry. A certain amount of palm wine was made available at the palace for visitors. This generosity was a strong expression of a king’s magnanimity and reinforces his standing among his people. To assist a chief or king in meeting these commitments, it appears that palm wine tappers were required to provide the chief or king a pot of palm wine daily for entertaining their guests. But royal favor was also expressed by gift of alcoholic drinks to the favored.

Trade and Social change

The link between alcohol, wealth, and power had previously privileged male elders with their control over land and labor. From the mid-eighteenth and nineteenth century, expanding economic opportunities spawned by cash-crop cultivation, land sales, wage-labor, and commerce, dissolved the ties that bound some young men to the land and elder kinsmen. Indeed, the very worldview, which endorsed the ritual use of alcohol, came under attack from Christian missionary influence as colonial rule was establishing itself. And Islam, which forbids the use of alcohol, was also continuing to spread, especially in West Africa. As trading brought new opportunities, especially in the nineteenth century, wealth and power was now based on commercial achievement, and the possession of land and pursuit of traditional office was no longer viewed as the basis of power. And young male migrants to coastal towns, elaborate patterns of social drinking came to represent their newfound freedom. The numerous economic occupations that had sprung up around European commercial activity had afforded these young men an independent source of income, and their quest for power based on new-found wealth was expressed in the abuse of the very fluid they had been denied access by elders. Young men took advantage of the low cost of rum and gin to binge on alcohol – the fluid sacred to the elders.

Exogenous alcohol and restrictions

The consumption of indigenous alcoholic drinks in traditional settings is almost invariably described in positive terms in the scattered literature. African beers are described as drinks of low alcoholic content and high nutritional value that function – on both actual and symbolic levels – as lubricants for high integrated social systems. The low alcoholic content of these drinks, their high food value, the necessary seasonality of brewing, and the substantial time and labor required in their production supposedly ensured the absence of excessive and destructive drinking. In Robert Netting’s exemplary view of Kofyar society in Nigeria, drinking remained strictly controlled and never in any sense constituted a problem despite the pervasive presence of beer and substantial levels of consumption. In the nineteenth century alcohol began to gradually migrate from the home to the market. A world where alcohol had played vital ritual and social roles was now beginning to see alcohol in local markets. Nineteenth-century accounts of the Niger region show that local grain beer and palm wine were readily available from trading women and at markets.

The gradual expansion in the use of imported spirits in the nineteenth century marked the beginning of the process of the introduction of industrially produced alcoholic drinks that would accelerate rapidly during the century and especially after the Second World War. The flood of spirits soon began to cause disruption and human devastation, and that became a concern for temperance groups. Not only were European spirits stronger than fermented drinks, they were also much less perishable. African beer and palm wine would last no more than a few days, while gin and rum could last years. Prior to the end of the nineteenth century and beginning of the twentieth century, African societies had apparently not developed the deep ambivalence that has long characterized Western attitudes towards alcohol. Drinking in Africa was strictly limited and essentially functional.

Rural and Urban

One of the ironies of the social history of colonialism in Africa is that European liquor, which was now a coveted fluid for rural elders, constituted one of the cheapest commodities in most coastal trading towns. In the light of alcohol’s association with power and wealth, European liquor (rum and gin) represented one of the goods that young male migrants in coastal trading towns could usurp easily to express their new autonomy.

As urbanization grew as a result of increased European trading, the context in which alcohol was being used began to change. Palm wine maintained its ritual use in rural areas, but was no longer a sign of power and wealth. European liquor became a status symbol for young men in the urban areas and they formed their own social drinking clubs. The explosion of drinking clubs among young men in coastal trading towns, and their excessive abuse of alcohol, would encourage a new, forceful form of temperance organization by coastal chiefs, elders and missionaries.

With alcohol being a social lubricant, it quickly found its place in urban life as people connect and interact in the public and private space. Aside from the private drinking clubs, bars were operated for the general drinking public to gather and socialize. While alcohol continued to maintain its ritual and ceremonial use in the rural areas for the most part, the drinking pattern among urbanized Africans was evolving. Studies have shown a connection between drinking and anxiety among urbanized Africans in response to economic insecurity. What was once a social lubricant was now turning into an urban social problem.

Era of Islam and European penetration

Islam’s steady advancement in West Africa and the dramatic success of revitalization movements in the eighteenth century led not only to decline in the use of alcohol among converts, but a broader re-evaluation of the meaning of alcohol. Perhaps more than any other outward aspect of behavior self-denial symbolized faithfulness to Islam. Some Muslims maintained some of the rituals in which alcohol was used, but replaced alcohol with water. For example, water is now used by Muslims to pour on the ground and stepped over to chase away evil spirits, especially, when one is embarking on a journey. In 1867 when Kabaka Mutesu of Buganda, came under the influence of Muslim advisers, he began to fast during Ramadan and stopped drinking; and even when that influence ceased, he apparently continued to abstain. In the interior of West Africa, visitors’ descriptions of the absence or nature of alcohol rituals suggest some of the contours of Islam’s frontiers. In 1830 when the Lander brothers traveled along the Niger River they repeatedly moved in and out of the realm of abstinence. In the bigger towns local leaders offered kola, but in smaller villages the brothers received gifts of beer as well.

The Gambia is full of palm-trees, and I wonder which dog tasted the sap there first. In spite of
Gambia being a predominantly Muslim society, alcohol is abundantly available. Banjul Breweries, a factory that manufactures beer and other soft drinks was opened in the mid-1970s. Its opening was initially opposed by some of the influential Muslim elders in Banjul because of the beer element, but the government at the time went ahead and gave the company license to operate regardless. Furthermore, Gambia is a tourist destination for some Europeans and that has contributed in permeating alcohol into the society even more. A good amount of hard liquor is imported every year for sale in the hotels, bars, restaurants and night clubs.

Alcohol has always been used by the minority non-Muslim population too. Among the non-Muslim population, the Christians drink alcohol in some of their social gatherings. For them, alcohol is for social use rather than ritual use. They mainly drink commercial beer and other imported gins, spirits and rums, and less of the local palm wine and other locally home brewed alcohol (like fire water). A good collection of imported spirits to entertain guest is a sign of wealth and success in a sense.  On the other hand, palm wine is used both for consumption and for rituals purposes among the Jolas and Manjagos, some of whom still practice their indigenous religions. They use palm wine in their initiation rituals, burial rituals and wedding ceremonies. Even some of those who have converted to Christianity continue the ritual use of palm wine on certain occasions. The main purpose of the ritual use of palm wine is to bring spirits together.

In the past few decades, some of Gambia’s young Muslims have gradually picked up social drinking and the numbers have been steadily rising, both at home and in the Diaspora. For the Muslim drinkers, a good collection of expensive imported alcohol to entertain guests has also become their way of displaying wealth and success. This practice is very common among some of the educated who have adopted drinking and sometimes have their own drinking clubs too. When alcohol is abundant and readily available, there is bound to be abuse, and Gambia is no different. To my knowledge, there are no government or private programs for alcohol addiction treatment or education in Gambia, and I’m not sure if any other form of professional help is available either. If you are unlucky enough to become an alcoholic, you will probably stay an alcoholic, unless, there is divine intervention or family support. Personally, alcohol has never attracted my sensitive curiosity, and I have convinced myself that drinking it will not benefit me. I can search for the health and nutritional benefits of alcohol somewhere else, and I don’t need it as a social lubricant either.

From Globalization to Social Problem

Alcohol in Sub-Saharan Africa has historically been a medium for religious and political expression controlled by male elders. Over the past century and especially during the last few crisis-ridden decades, alcohol’s ceremonial role has been largely reduced. Rapid income separation and economic marginalization have spurred production and consumption of alcohol. In many localities, expanding supply has led to drinking patterns that impinge on general social welfare. Alcohol consumption and its consequent effects on health are on the rise all over Africa. Reports published by World Health Organization (WHO) have recorded some concerning trends. Despite average alcohol consumption per capita being only half of Europe’s (largely thanks to Africa’s many abstaining Muslims and Christians), the latest WHO report found  Africa to have the highest rate of binge drinking in the world at 25%. “It’s true that most people in Africa don’t drink for cultural, religious and economic reasons, but those who drink, drink a lot”, says Vladimir Poznyak, Coordinator of the Management of Substance Abuse unit at WHO.

In many western countries this would instinctively trigger the implementation of higher taxes on alcohol and better public education. But corporate influence is strong in much of Africa – a relative new market where many companies are hungry to capitalize on profitable expansion. And the prevalence of illegally produced local alcohol is further complicating the issue. These drinks are usually extremely potent, often dangerous, and occasionally lethal – many worry that increased taxation will simply drive more people to resort to these illicit concoctions.

Currently, alcohol is a taboo subject for donors and African government alike, yet it is at the center of many of the continent’s most pressing problems. Decline in the agricultural sector, high unemployment, household instability, and AIDS have also been linked to changing alcohol usage, especially in South Africa.

Over the last couple of years, legislation on alcohol use has picked up pace in Africa. Recently, South Africa proposed new laws to raise the minimum drinking age from 18 to 21, properly license taverns, restrict alcohol advertising, and get tougher on drunk-driving. Earlier in 2012, Zambia banned the sale of alcohol in cheap plastic packets. Meanwhile, back in 2010, a strict regulation known as the “Mututho law” was introduced in Kenya, prohibiting the sale of alcohol by grocery stores before 5pm. The Act has been credited with a drop in alcohol related deaths in Kenya by 90%. However, much has yet to be legislated across the continent. While most countries have set a minimum drinking age, enforcement is another matter altogether. Appropriate steps are being slowly taken, but much more needs to be done in terms of education and awareness.

What Happened Banjul? Part IV – The Mosquitoes’ Story (Fiction)

As more and more gutters became stagnant in Banjul, “The Banjul Mosquitoes” found themselves with more real estate to breed and keep multiplying. Then they decided to take it a step further by organizing and selecting a leader. They have been learning from the “Banjul Ndongos” (street boys) and it was now time for them to put that knowledge into use. After it was all said and done, a young and flamboyant mosquito by the name of Baba Jow emerged as their new leader. He was nicknamed “cheeky boy”, for his penchant for biting Waa Banjul on the cheeks. I would describe him as “an audacious in your face” type mosquito that always dare you to slap him and see what’s going to happen. He controlled Banjul; from Half Die to Soldier Town, and all the way to the more recent Tobacco Road settlement. Baba was “The Man”, buzzing around town like there was no tomorrow. He trained his army very well and had much confidence in their ability to strike on Waa Banjul at any given moment. Soon, waiting for night fall became a thing of the past for them. Come 5 O’Clock in the afternoon (takusan), invasion orders went out. 

Multiplying is fun, and I guess “The Banjul Mosquitoes” got carried away. The population colossally grew so rapidly for Baba Jow to effectively manage and command, so he had no choice but to recruit an assistant. SoldierTown had a blind mosquito by the name of Njol Macca, who was making a name for himself in the community. They called him “The Drone”. Did “The Banjul Mosquitoes” know about drones even before the technology was perfected? Despite his handicap, Njol knew Banjul inside out, and was able to impeccably carry out any mission. He was also highly disciplined and that made him a natural pick for Baba Jow. Njol Macca was named assistant commander of the “Banjul Mosquito Forces” (aka BMF) on July 4th 1986. Maybe Baba Jow needed an assistant that would help balance his flamboyant lifestyle.  If he did, he definitely found that in his new assistant. Njol Macca was humble and treated every member of the forces with dignity and respect, and he was well liked and respected in return. Baba Jow handed Njol Macca a section of Banjul to command (from Llewellyn Street all the way down to the Tobacco Road settlement), and he ran it without a hitch. He was initially giving Baba Jow weekly briefings and that soon turned to monthly, then quarterly. Njol Macca truly did live up to Baba Jow’s expectation!

Most mosquito species have an average flight range of 1-3 miles. Scientific research has shown that mosquitoes bite some people more than others for several reasons, including the smells that those people give off, the chemicals on those people’s skin and even how much carbon dioxide the emit while breathing. Experts estimate that mosquitoes are highly attracted to about 10 percent of all people, with those people’s genetics accounting for 85 percent of their attractiveness to mosquitoes. I don’t believe this research would apply in Banjul’s case because it seemed like 100 percent of Waa Banjul were attractive to mosquitoes!

It was during the rainy season in 1987 that a mosquito from Sukuta by the name of Lamino made the 12 miles flight to Banjul, setting a record. Such flight prowess was unheard of.  Everywhere he went in Banjul, he was always surrounded by a crowd of admirers who were impressed by his record breaking travel. He was also the first known “rural mosquito migrant” in the history of Banjul. Lamino was a true undisputed champion indeed! His journey alone made him a household name amongst “The Banjul Mosquitoes”. Back in Sukuta, he was better known as Jew Kenseng (butt naked) because he specialized in attacking Sukuta residence while they were taking a shower. His decision to make the 12 mile journey to Banjul was because life in Sukuta had gotten stale and boredom had started creeping in. He wanted new challenges or a fresh start at least. Banjul was a place he heard a lot about, especially in the evenings when Sukuta residence that worked in Banjul returned home for the day. He overheard them several times talking about the stagnant gutters in Banjul and how ideal they were for mosquitoes to breed throughout the year. Sukuta on the other hand, was only ideal for breeding during the rainy season. So every time Lamino hears a conversation about Banjul he would get excited. For him, making the journey to Banjul was just a matter of time. He didn’t just want to live, he wanted to thrive.

Lamino’s transition to life in Banjul was practically seamless, he adapted promptly. The story of his
journey carried so much weight that he was quickly elevated up the command chain. By Christmas that year, Lamino had made it up there on Baba Jow’s list of trusted soldiers and was rewarded with a position of commander. He was now third in command. Baba Jow then decided to divide Njol Macca’s territory and gave part of it to Lamino. He was now responsible for Boxbar Road area (from Gambia High School all the way to Campama) and the entire Tobacco Road settlement. Life in Banjul was excellent for him, but he still felt incomplete. The following month he sent word (Banjul nice!) to his long time rumored girlfriend in Sukuta, Nyancho aka Bumblebee (because of her big butt).

If you know anything about Bumble Bees, you will know that, according to 20th century folklore, the laws of aerodynamic prove that the bumblebee should be incapable of flight, as it does not have the capacity (in terms of wing size or beats per second) to achieve flight with the degree of wing loading necessary (that’s Nyancho for you!). However, the origin of this claim has been difficult to pin down with any certainty. Nyancho was voluptuous, had a very ebullient personality and flies like an angel. During his first Sukata visit after migrating to Banjul, Lamino asked Nyancho to come and join him in Banjul so they can finally make their relationship public and live the life they had always dreamed of. Nyancho initially had reservations because she wasn’t very keen about city life; nonetheless, she left for Banjul a couple of weeks after Lamino’s visit.

Nyancho’s resume was even more impressive. Not only was she known to single handedly infect half of the population in Sukuta with malaria during her time there, but she had also stopped for a weekend layover at Mile 2 Prisons (Gambia’s notorious prisons) on her way to Banjul and feasted on some of the prisoners. It was also during her Mile 2 weekend layover that Gaindeh Njie (Gambia’s most famous death row inmate at the time) contracted malaria and died a week later at the Royal Victoria Hospital in Banjul. Nyancho’s involvement in Gaindeh Njie’s death was never ascertained, but rumor has it that she actually delivered the lethal injection. She was known for tearing mosquito nets into pieces too! A force that should be reckon with. Within a week of Nyancho’s arrival in Banjul, Baba Jow requested a meeting with her and immediately promoted her to commander status and decorated her with a “warrior’s badge of honor”. She was now in charge of Banjul’s Dingareh district, which was previously part of Baba Jow command area. “The Banjul Mosquitoes” spared no one, including the President. The State House was rumored to have been on lockdown on a few occasions, after guards sounded the alarm signaling a Nyancho lead invasion. If Baba Jow was “The Man”, then it is fair to say that Nyancho was “The Woman.” Things had really worked out for Lamino and Nyancho. Their decision to make the move to Banjul paid-off handsomely for them. (Banjul really nice!)

In the early to late 1970s, the “Banjul Ndongos” ran the city and terrorized the residence, even the police were intimidated by them. They roamed the streets and fearlessly chose their targets. They were bullies and thieves. Waa Banjul avoided certain street corners, especially when they saw a congregation of “Ndongos” standing there. Folks would rather cancel their errands than cross paths with the “Ndongos”. Fast forward 10 years, there was now a new sheriff in town and his name was Baba Jow. Baba and his commanders had done a good job dividing Banjul, and they conquered it well too. With the addition of Lamino and Nyancho, the “Banjul Ndongos” were now weary about congregating in the streets corners after a certain hour. The student had beaten the master!

Cities have always been a place that attracted those seeking opportunity and a chance to attain upward social mobility, and Lamino and Nyancho were no different. With just the wings on their backs and a dream, they were now part of Banjul’s elite and very well respected and admired. Their hard work and sacrifice has been rewarded, and they lived happily ever after. So whatever you do in life, never give up on your dreams and always stay focus. Go where opportunity calls you and make the best of it. Life is a journey and the possibilities are endless. Thanks to Sidi Sanneh for contributing Part III of the Banjul series.

What Happended to Banjul? Part III - Banjul, Our Banjul

Photo courtesy of http://www.bradtguides.com

The aborted Banjul Mayoral debate that was to have taken place recently is another painful reminder of how we, Banjulians, betrayed the city we claim we love, by abandoning it for the Kombos. Our 'kerri chosan' thankfully has undergone extensive renovation. Thanks to my nephews and nieces, naturally all living abroad, for making it possible. It has always been occupied by members of the family and, I hope, it ways will. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said of many compounds that have been abandoned. Crumbling or collapsed homes that were once the pride of the city litters the Banjul landscape thus providing additional habitat for the mean Banjul mosquitoes that Momodou Ndow described in his revealing and excellent pieces about the city. His great-great-great grandfather will be very disappointed with him for abandoning the city that has been good to the Ndow family as it has been for the Sanneh family. 

The city will not be saved by the resident of Kanilai who sees Banjul as a place to coerce its residents into keeping the APRC in power. I do not expect him to do anything that will revive a once thriving hub of an up-and-coming economy driven by an equally thriving agricultural sector. After all why save a city that will compete with Kanilai for the title of the premier Gambian city. Jammeh's strategy is to keep promising Bajulians an urban renewal program that never materializes for votes that always do. He is at it again by denying Samba Faal permission to face the electorate in a debate with the opposition candidates that would have revealed Jammeh and the APRC of having no plans for the city. Government policy appears to be to develop Kanilai into the capital of the country which makes little sense. Because it makes no sense, it will be promoted by Jammeh. That has been our experience with Jammeh and the A(F)PRC. 

The onus is now on us, led by Grand Marshall Momodou Ndow, to start the gentrification movement to save the city that we all claim to love. The residents of Banjul have been shafted, and left holding the bag one too many times by politicians who do not even live in the city. The one genuine Banjul resident and an Independent who won election fair and square was hounded out of office by Jammeh and the APRC. They managed to exile a once promising politician. The bright aspect of this unfortunate saga is that Pa Sallah Jeng is young enough to return and reclaim his rightful place in Gambian politics. That said, it is evident that those who live in the city do not have a say in the way their city is run. They are not even considered deserving of a mayoral debate to listen, and accorded the opportunity to ask questions about candidates' plans and proposed programs for dealing with the daunting issues facing them as residents. Banjul can be saved. Do not tell me it cannot be done. Ouagadougou was in worse shape in the 1980s than Banjul is today but you can hardly tell by looking at the Ouaga of today. Get on with it Momodou Ndow. Lead the charge. 

What Happened to Banjul? - My Story - Part II

A city is a relatively dense and permanent settlement. They were initially formed as central places of trade for the benefit of citizens living in close proximity to each other. Such form of living facilitates all sorts of interactions. The benefits of city life includes reduced transportation cost, exchange of ideas, large local trade markets etc. As more people were attracted to cities in search of business opportunities, the need for amenities such as running water and sewage disposal became obvious. One of the most important amenities for a city to have is a proper working sewage system. Every modern city needs to have a sewage system in order to protect public health and prevent diseases such as typhoid and cholera. The focus of a sewage system is to convey raw sewage to a natural body of water, for example, a river or ocean, where it would be suitably treated and degenerated.

In the developed world, city sewage systems are usually constructed with pipes that connect from buildings to one or more levels of larger underground main pipes, which transport the sewage to a sewage treatment facility. Vertical manhole pipes connect the main pipes to the surface. The manholes are used for access to the sewer pipes for inspection and maintenance. These more sophisticated sewage systems are considered the conventional type. There is also a more inferior type of sewage system known as Simplified sewage. This is a low-cost sewer system with smaller diameter pipes at fairly flat slope. Simplified sewers are sometimes laid under pavements (if feasible), rather than in the centre of the road as with conventional sewerage. It is generally used in unplanned low-income areas, as well as new housing estates with a regular layout. With a simplified sewage, it is crucial to have management arrangements in place to remove blockages, which are more frequent than with conventional sewerage. The concept of simplified sewerage simultaneously emerged in Nepal, Brazil and Karachi, Pakistan in the early 1980s.

Henry Bathurst

Founded in 1816 by the British, Banjul was used as a trading post and base for repressing the slave trade. It is on St Mary’s Island, where the Gambia River enters the Atlantic Ocean. It was first named Bathurst after Hendry Bathurst, the secretary of the British Colonia Office, but was later change to Banjul in 1973. My great-great-great grandfather, Imam Abdourahman Sowe and his family were among the early settlers there. One of the streets in Banjul is named after my great-great grandfather Imam Omar Sowe, the son of Imam Abdourahman Sowe. My grandfather, Alhagie Alieu Ndow was born there in 1887. My father and I were also born in Banjul, and we still have a couple of family compounds there, even though we also later moved to the Kombos in the late 1970s.

As one of the smallest cities in the world, Banjul never really had a sewage system. Most of the compounds in Banjul had pail latrines that were collected at night when they became full and replaced with empty ones. They were then taken to a central location to be transported to the waste dumpsite located outside the city at Mile 2 prisons area. As more city dwellers gravitated towards Banjul in search of business opportunities and employment, the population started to steadily grow and public toilets were set up to further accommodate the needs of the residence. But this was not enough and something had to be done for the sake of human health and just plain old sanity. There were some compounds in Banjul that had private septic tanks and would pay a fee for BCC (Banjul City Council) to send their big tanker truck to empty the septic tanks when they were full.

In the early 1980’s, the then government adopted a policy to construct a modern sewage system in Banjul to eliminate the previous “human system” run by Banjul City Council’s Health and Services Department.

SOBEA (a French company) was contracted to develop Banjul’s sewage system. Work on the city's sewage project began in 1984. SOBEA brought in their heavy equipment and the unearthing began. So many streets were being dug up at once, and I was convinced that Banjul had diamond, gold or oil. The city was full of traffic detours and if you were a driver who didn't know your way around, you will probably end up where you started a few times over before figuring your way out. Although you can always hire a taxi and the drivers had no problem navigating the city, but your ribs will pay a heavy price as they recklessly speed over the potholes. The tar roads were on their last leg before being excavated by SOBEA, never to be the same again. I remember getting off a taxi once, two blocks shy of my destination because my ribs were screaming. I slept like a log that night! The work SOBEA did with the sewage system was perfunctory at best, and it left the city's roads that were already wounded for dead.

It didn’t take long after the sewage project was finished for the problem of pipe blockage, leakage and overflow to surface. The quality of the work was perfunctory at best (merci beaucoup SOBEA!). In constructing the sewage system, SOBEA used smaller pipes that were frequently choking and causing the system to overflow. Ultimately, the whole problem basically came down to lack of proper planning by the government. For a project of such magnitude, it is critical that the citizens are sensitized prior to commencing the project, and that reliable management and maintenance arrangements put in place to remove blockages, which are more frequent than with conventional sewerage. The people of Banjul were never educated about what can and can’t go into the new sewage system, so they threw almost everything in it, including solid objects. This was one of the main causes of the frequent blockage and subsequent overflows. Another mistake the government made at the time was not having a provision in their contract with SOBEA for them to restore the roads to their previous condition or better after they were done. In hindsight, it is my opinion that the government had a GRAND PLAN of building a conventional sewage system in Banjul, but the actual materials that were used by SOBEA are for a Simplified Sewage system. Was the government scammed by SOBEA or were the people overseeing the project in cahoots? When a government takes a loan to fund such a massive project, the construction contract should have all the appropriate provisions.

Dilapidated roads need to be cared for too. And who was there to do that? Public Works Department (PWD). The Public Works Department never really did a good job of maintaining the roads before they were butchered by SOBEA in the first place, but something is better than nothing. A PWD road maintenance session involved a bucket or wheelbarrow full of tar patch, a shovel, couple of guys and a piece of metal equipment to pound the patch into the potholes. These repairs were obviously temporary and would begin to come apart after a few months of use, but their worst enemy was the rains. They were mostly all rinsed away by the first heavy rain, so it was never a good idea for such repairs to be done right before the rainy season. I wonder what the guaranteed workmanship period was? With the roads worse than before SOBEA matched into town, a mediocre sewage system that was constantly choking, and a public that was never sensitize about the project, Banjul’s environmental problems multiplied. 

TAF Brufut Garden Estates, one of the new developments
in the Kombos

With the population shift now to the Kombos, the need to construct a sewage system there is inevitable. Even though some of the homes in the Kombos do have private septic tanks, the need for a sewage system is still there, in other to support the accelerating population growth we are now seeing in the Kombos. It is my hope that when the time comes (in the next 10 or 15 years), lessons would have been learned from the Banjul experience and that proper planning and tight policies will be in place to avoid the mistakes that were made when the sewage system in Banjul was being constructed. Proper planning and tight policies will always save the day!

Special thanks to Joey Goswell for clarifying a couple of issues on the SOBEA.