I boarded the bus to Dakar at the Kanifing Bus Depot at around 6:45 AM, and it was still relatively dark, as dawn was continuing to break. I walked up and down the aisle looking for a seat, but most of the seats were occupied by passengers and the few remaining had hand bags or plastic bags sitting on them. When I asked the passengers sitting next to those seats if the seats were taken, they all told me that they were holding the seats for other passengers waiting at the Ferry Terminal in Banjul. A typical Gambian thing to do (japa palass). Anyway, things were later sorted out by the bus conductor and I was given a seat.
Amid the seating confusion, I failed to notice the woman sitting with her baby two seats up to my left, but that all changed when we arrived at the Ferry Terminal in Banjul. At the Ferry Terminal, as I was looking to buy some Senegalese CFA (currency) from a currency dealer who entered our bus, I heard the voice of a lady on my left telling me to be careful. I looked over and saw her holding her baby while the baby was standing on her lap. She told me that some of the currency dealers are cheats and she would help me negotiate a good rate. She handed her baby to the other woman sitting next to her (not sure if that was her sister, but they sure looked alike) and off the bus we went.
With her help, I got my CFA and we returned to the bus in the nick of time as the bus was entering the ferry. A few minutes later, the baby was back with her mother and I couldn’t stop but notice her beautiful smile. I waved at her and she gave me a smile full of drool and I observed the excitement in her. So I leaned over and asked the mother for the baby’s name and age. She told me it was Fatima and she was four months old. I thought the name was fitting. The name “Fatima” means ‘captivating’ in Arabic and, at this point, I was being captivated by Fatima's smile. Every time I looked over and saw her, there was a twinkle in her eyes. As the journey went along, I noticed that Fatima never fussed or cried, she was smiling, alert and attentive at all times.
It is generally uncommon to see a four month old baby so calm and observant on such long journeys. Her cheerful temperament was becoming a personal charm and pulling me like gravity. Right before we entered Kaolack, I leaned over again and asked Fatima’s mother if I could hold her (Fatima). She smiled, said “yes”, and handed me her baby. Fatima fixed her eyes on me and refused to stop smiling. Just like her mother had done, I too then had Fatima stand on my lap and I moved her to the beat of the Youssou Ndure songs playing on the bus. Soon after, she started reaching for my phone. So I gave it to her and later asked her mother if it was fine for me to take photos of Fatima. She granted me her permission and Fatima and I took some selfies (it’s the in-thing to do). From then on, every time the bus stopped along the journey to drop off passengers, Fatima and I would get off purr fuda tanka ak feehal bott, after fighting off the cashew nut and tangerine vendors storming the bus.
Sensing her precociousness, I decided to have a conversation with Fatima about New Gambia. I asked her to give me her thoughts about New Gambia, what future she wants for herself, and her impression of President Barrow. In response she said “gugugaga Barrow, gugu, eh eh eh, gaga, uh uh uh.” I have yet to unpack Baby Fatima’s statement, but it sounds profound and probably subject to interpretation. It wasn’t long after our New Gambia conversation that I noticed that Fatima’s eyes were getting smaller as sleep was creeping in, so I cuddled her into my arms and she started sleeping like a baby. This was the only time Fatima slept during the trip. I sat there and watched her peacefully sleeping in my arms, like the gentle soul that she is. She finally woke up crying right as we approached Dakar, so I handed her back to her mother. She must have been hungry at this point.
As I was busy people-watching through the window as the bus navigated the streets of Dakar, it didn’t occur to me that Baby Fatima and her crew were about to disembark, so we were unable to properly say goodbye. They got off two stops before me. I later saw the other women (who was with Fatima and her mother) at the bus depot as I was coming off the bus; she had taken a taxi to the bus depot because they left Fatima’s diaper on the bus. But somehow, it never registered to me that we didn’t exchanged contact information, so she left again and we still don’t have each other’s detail.
They say “the littlest feet make the biggest footprints in our hearts” and Baby Fatima’s feet are little and they left big footprints in my heart.
