Mosque Builder

You want to build Mosques but not churches 

You want to build Mosques but not infrastructure 

You want to build mosques but not a health care system 

You want to build mosques but not feed the people 

Mosque builder give us a break

You want to build mosques but not institutions

You want to build mosques but not secure the country 

You want to build mosques but not protected the environment 

You want to build mosques but not build the economy 

Mosque builder give us a break 

You want to build mosques while hope is fading 

You want to build mosques while reforms are pending 

You want to build mosques while nothing is stabilizing 

You want to build mosques while poverty is growing 

Mosque builder help build the country and not your personal desires and give up a break

The Banjul Mayoral Race

Yesterday, I went back to where it all began for me here in Banjul, Gambia on 64 Dobson Street. I was born there. The idea was just to stand there and take it all in. But when I arrived there, I began to see my childhood memories show up. With my elephant memory, virtually everything came rushing back. The sights, sounds and smells. In my mind, I was recreating old scenes and scenarios. I could vividly hear my mother yelling “Modou Ndow torgal!” and “Modou Ndow gainal si birr bahh bi” and “Modou Ndow kai ange!” It felt literary like yesterday when I was running those streets kicking soccer balls up and down them with my friends, skilfully avoiding getting hit by cars. 

The city was relatively clean and well maintained back then - even clean enough to float our paper boats in the gutters during the rainy season. Our paper boat races were always on and my boats knew how to float in the middle and avoid hitting the side walls, even when turning corners, so win race rek! Yes, it was all in the placement. The periodical cleaning of the gutters and garbage pickup made a difference, but it now seems that such basic services are lacking. At a minimum, Banjul (or any city) must have these services regularly in order to stabilize its health. 

I then visited other parts of Banjul and vivid memories came back to me the same. Strangely though, while the fond memories effortlessly came flooding back to me, I noticed my adult feelings were different. The air in the city now thirty years later feels different; the vibe is weird. And entire neighborhoods appear even more dilapidated than the last time I visited only ten years ago. Banjul’s health clearly has been on a consistent downward spiral, and the poor situation of my hometown has gotten more severe. In reality, there are too many dejected sights here: Banjul is ailing and on life support.

Banjul is a unique city. During my childhood, it was not known for its sophistication but it did have good character, culture, and so much charm - there used to be something better in the air (an easy breeze of belonging and community). And so, Banjul will need unique solutions, some perhaps with a surgical approach. The city needs heart surgery; Banjul does not have the same pulse it used to.  Its liver (the largest solid organ in the body) is failing, clogged, and putrid.  Its kidneys are badly infected and in need of a complete transplant because based on what I’ve seen, Banjul looks almost dead.

The issues, hunting Banjul are chronic and complex ones that would require some robust and innovative solutions. The city’s had its share of mediocre mayors who neither had a vision nor a firm plan for the city and its residents.  Instead, they were mostly interested in being mayor for show; and Banjul’s current dilapidated conditions is a solid testament to that. 

Although not a resident, I have always fiercely advocated for my childhood town of Banjul, which prompted me to start writing a series dedicated to it.  My goal was to highlight the plight of the city due to mismanagement, poor planning, and constant neglect. Moreover, I wanted to start a conversation about Banjul in hopes that the ‘powers that be’ would act accordingly and take better actions; but I ended up culminating the series with my own suggestions on how to REVIVE the city.

With a mayoral race looming and heating up, it is vital for the citizens of Banjul not to settle for the same mediocrity that has disturbed the city for decades now. There is too much at stake, at its fast decline, the city’s life is hanging in the balance! Political parties and mayoral candidates also need to be reminded of what’s at stake here, and if they cannot deliver on their campaign promises and subsequent civic duties, then they need to drop out or step down! This is serious business that requires a vigorous plan and laser sharp clear vision. Being a mayor is a high-level position that requires certain managerial skill sets, such as critical thinking, negotiation, active listening, active learning, systems evaluation and analysis, operation analysis, articulate speaking, and complex problem solving (especially, with Banjul’s current state).

So, to the voters of Banjul, you have a critical role to play in fighting the mediocrity and mismanagement that has dragged the city into the dirty gutters and caused it to be failing and stagnant for decades. Disregard the candidates without tangible work and management experience and focus on those with a verifiable track record of these things. Cut the fat! Don’t entertain a single candidate who lacks a robust plan for revival and innovative rehabilitation solutions for the city.

No, I am not referring to myself; I am not running for anything. However, I still took time and made the effort to come up with some solutions for Banjul in my "The Final Chapter" piece. Can you say the same for some of those aspiring to be the next mayor?  Vote wisely or risk watching Banjul slip into a permanent coma and eventually die. The stakes are too high for Banjul’s life!

Love Flower

Photo Credit 

In the Spring your daylight is longer and brighter and light up my soul

Like the flower you are you bloom and your hypnotic colors shine through

Birds sing songs of freedom as they watch your magnificent walk

They spread their feathers and walk back and forth in admiration of your grace  

Your daylight is even longer in the summer as you heat up my soul

The gentle breeze you emit softer than the admiring feathers

It cools me down and sends me to a secret paradise unknown to many

Where the earth is tilted on its axis towards the joyful summer sun

I fall back to your tender loving and caring ways in the fall as photosynthesis ends

Your love leafs paint my soul with buoyant shades of yellow orange and brown

They cover me with a crisp and passionate feeling that warms my heart to capacity

From the horizon you approach to plant the fire in my heart and bring peace to my mind

As your days shorten in winter we retreat into our love cocoon to hibernate

The Acts of our play continue devoid of drama as we embark on a winter exploration

By the fireplace we will snuggle reflect and refine our perspective and passion

Pursuing to reveal who we truly are we carry each other from a place of strength and kindness  

A love flower with beautiful petals intoxicating scents and infinite sweetness

Your mind is beautiful and your thoughts are deeper than the ocean

Your soul is pure your smile radiant infectious and pleasantly comforting

You are warm vulnerable and receptive to love in all its million different forms

The Phone Call – A Tribute to Dad

It was one of those phone calls, you know, the ones that come in the middle of the night to shred your soul into pieces, pull the ground from underneath you, and dumb you into an “emotional landfill”. My phone had been buzzing on the nightstand, but I could not hear it because I had already hit the fifth gear in my sleep. I was sailing. But with every sleep, no matter how deep, there are always moments of interruption, whether from tossing and turning or snapping out of a bad dream. Mine was the former. 

It was in the middle of my toss and turn that I heard my phone buzzing. With one eye half open, I contemplated answering the phone for a minute, but reluctantly picked it up and said “hello”. The voice on the other end called out my name “Mod Ndow!”, and my heart sank right away. It was my sister, Salan Ndow. I was tempted to deny that it was me and tell her that she had the wrong number, for I knew exactly why she was calling. I could sense it in her tone. First she asked if anyone had called me, and I said no but that was a lie because I later saw all the miss calls I had, they were too many to count; others had been calling me too. But I guess Salan must have been the chosen one – the one chosen to deliver the bad news to me.

The sad news busted the doors of my memory bank and different recollections of dad throughout the years started bursting out. Dad started teaching English and Literature at Gambia High School at age 17, after graduating from Boys High School. He also taught at Armitage High School when I was a baby. Further down the road, dad became the Headmaster of Muhammedan School, and that’s how I became the Headmaster's son (dommi Master Ndow). 

He later became the president of the Gambia Teacher’s Union, fighting for the rights of teachers and the noble work that they do. I vividly remember when teachers would come from different parts of the country to see him, and sometimes to his house and knock on the door in the middle of the night with their grievances, and dad would wake up and get into his car with them to go address their issues. This was how accessible dad was. In his time at the Ministry of Education, he served in different capacities; but the position I remember the most was his role as Chief Education Officer. This role was a unique and dynamic one. The position requires careful program planning and management as well as spending a significant time nurturing external relationships. It was a position that demanded strong leadership and vision. From there, dad retired in 1995. 

But that was "retirement" just in name only, dad continued to serve as a board member on various school boards, helped set-up and ran both Bakoteh High School (SOS Hermann Gmeiner) and Daddy Jobe Comprehensive, while building his own institution - Kairaba Upper Basic and Senior Secondary School. Kairaba Upper Basic has now been in existence for 14 years. He was also a member of the initial team that was setting up the university before you know who hijacked it - Goloh. In the late 1990’s to early 2000’s, dad served as the President of The Gambia Red Cross Society. From 2003 to 2006, he served a term as the Chairman of West African Examination Council (WAEC). I remember him calling me while attending a meeting in Geneva on behalf of WAEC, and left me a message with a call-back number and his room number. I soon realized the he was staying at a motel and asked him why didn't he stay at a hotel. He said the motel was decent and in a good area and that he didn't want to waste WAEC's money by staying at some fancy hotel. Dad was that honest, simple and humble, he can sleep anywhere and hang with anyone. 

In his capacity as Chief Education Officer, President of The Gambia Red Cross Society and Chairman of WAEC, dad had access to all sorts of scholarships, but mann morm musuma giss takanderri scholarship sah! I had to hustle on my own (gortor gortor). He always felt that as his kids, we had a somewhat decent enough foundation and will be able to fend for ourselves, so he mainly focused on the less fortunate. 

For sixty solid years, dad served in the public sector, shared knowledge, developed minds, and impacted many lives. He had a passion for teaching and education, and his vision was laser sharp. He poured his heart and soul into it. He did nothing for money, and when there was a surplus, he recycled it right back into his passion – education and helping others. As an educator, he was a father to many by default, and he treated every student with care and compassion. Dad never talked much, but he said a lot. His words are silent, but his actions are loud. He never taught me anything, but I learned everything from him. He exemplifies honestly and integrity, and his wisdom was infinite. In our many Sunday two-hour beach walks while here with me, dad once told me "never compromise your values and always stand up for what you believe to be right. I have friends who compromised their values, and today they have robbed themselves of their dignity." He was admirably principled and understanding. He left some big shoes I may not be able to fill, but I will be more than happy to shine them. I can confidently and proudly say that dad did more for a lot of other people than he did for me, and I would not have wanted it any other way. He had a rich and generous spirit that will keep on giving. He will surely be missed by many.

In Loving Memory of Mr. Ousman Alieu Ndow

Fading Away

I don't think I need to remind anyone of you what happened after the fall of Goloh. Some of you know it better than I do paski yenanga won sa digi yeffya, but we all felt it the same. The clouds of hope and freedom quickly formed and started pouring heavily. It washed away the fear and darkness that had permanently resided in Gambia for 22 bad years. Hope and freedom flooded the country, but it was a good flood. Although our drainage systems are poor, this was the type of flood we were all waiting for to gladly wade through, with or without boots. The good flood!

On Independence/Inauguration day, Gambians filled the stadium beyond capacity to witness the celebration of freedom and democracy, after many years of oppression; they could breathe again. Nothing like oxygen! Gambians in the diaspora too descended like eagles, to join in and feast on the new found freedom and help celebrate. The smiling coast turned frowning coast - was now smiling again. It was like the heavens had opened, and Gambia was now rising. Gambians united and decided to turn a new leaf of freedom and democracy, and the entire world was behind the country. President Barrow's speech was inspiring and uplifting.

It didn't  take long before money came rolling in; Goloh had emptied the piggy bank and headed south. The country was virtually bankrupt! The EU pledged a €225m rescue package for Gambia, of which they delivered €75m in immediate funding and the remaining €150 is for long term help. Other major funding came in since then too. The coalition government had their agenda and we were all excited. The excitement was palpable!  The youths were drunk with hope because a portion of the delivered €75m was earmarked for job and skills training for them. Their frustration had created the "backway" phenomenon, and this was a message of hope for them. To them, things were now about to change and get better economically, and they could see it in the horizon. I guess perception is reality. Almost every Gambian had their own "priority wish list" of issues they wanted the government to tackle first; virtually everyone was fully engaged, as should be. The pending release of a blueprint announced and celebrated, and a Think Tank launched and celebrated too, and that was the last we heard.

And here we are now, eight months later, with very little tangible progress. There is still no VP appointed, the youths are wondering when will their pain ease, electricity is still sporadic, hospitals lack basic necessities, the economy is not gaining traction, and the bad floods are now here; trapping cars on the road and limiting mobility. It's the rainy season again. Lavish contracts have been signed, but the people don't know what they are getting for their money. The clouds of hope that rolled in after the fall of Goloh are now fading away, being erased by a dangerously intense partisan politics. Gambia survived the cancer of dictatorship, and is now being threatened by another new cancerous tumor - toxic partisanship. So far, beside freedom, Gambia has gained little to none.

We are also now being told that the MoU that the coalition government was based on was not signed by any of the parties. This seriously calls into question the coalition's agenda, no doubt. Meanwhile, those in office have upgraded their entire wardrobes, and are gaining weight fast!

The Post Victory Conference – A Political Satire – Part II

As Halipha Sallah was in the middle of presenting his reasons as to why PDIOS was also rejecting UDP’s Bamba Seringne Kadimu Rasul Mass offer for Sulayman Bokarr Bah, power went out. Within a flash, the crowd in attendance uttered loud boos that would rival a Wembley Stadium crowd at any given day. How can power go out at a brand new $55 million conference hall in the middle of such an important and essential conference? Well, don’t ask me - your guess is as good as mine! Too many cooks in the “power kitchen”, maybe? NAWEC, Sinohydro Corporation and Senelec are all in the “power kitchen” frying cables.

It wasn’t even fifteen minutes after the power outage before the temperature in the conference hall started to rise and attendees were asked to vacate the hall while the power situation was being sorted out. While waiting outside, there was much chatter amongst the crowd regarding the surrogate trade negotiations. Virtually every one had an opinion. The temperature outside was not friendly either; it was a hot, humid Sunday with temperatures in the upper 90s. Soon, the conversation amongst the crowd shifted from the surrogate trade negotiations to Gambia’s chronic power issues. Some were saying we should look into air energy, others insisted we should harness the moon for energy and yet others insisted some of us generate enough body odor to generate 24/7 electricity. Meanwhile, The Gambia’s own pencil, Sabally, and the rest of the conference staff were working the phones trying to get the power up and running again. He had security with him because he knows Gambians are jealous of him and he has to act important by virtue of his critical role. Three hours later, power was finally back on and people were dancing and celebrating as they filed back into the $55 million conference hall.

Momodou Sabally: Ladies and gentlemen, once again, my name is Honorable Momodou Sabally. I was your best presidential affairs minister under our hero, Jammeh. On behalf of myself and my conference staff which includes people from my leadership academy where Mama Signateh teaches the fundamentals of ethics, I would like to apologize for the power outage and welcome you back to our one in Africa $55 million conference hall. NAWEC has delivered a used generator for us to use for the remainder of the conference and with enough petrol, so I don’t anticipate any more power issues. Thank you for your patience and understanding. We will now resume.

As Sabally was calling the conference back to order, that’s when OJ walked into the conference room accompanied by Ndey Mbergan Sarr and Ndey Ngoneh Njie holding PPP’s pink flag, and Bai Tama right behind them. Ndey Mbergan and Ndey Ngoneh are PPP members but OJ and Bai Tama had met a few weeks earlier at OJ’s house on Koriteh day.  Bai Tama walked into OJ’s house and interrupted his meal looking for salibo.

Sabally: Mr. Jallow, I’m surprised to see you here. I thought you guys wouldn’t attend. Mr. Darboe had said…

Darboe: Said what, Mr. Sabally? I told you that was a joke! Didn’t you hear the audience laughing?

Sabally: Yes I did, Mr. Darboe; and it was funny too, sir.

Darboe: Mr. Jallow and I are friends; a photo of the two of us hugging went viral online, you didn’t see it?

Sabally: I probably did, Sir. Mr. Jallow, welcome to The Post victory Conference 2017. We are glad that you made it here with your delegation to represent PPP in this very important conference. As we all know, PPP is a signatory to the MoU and your participation in this conference is key to help us forge ahead. I’m assuming you are here to partake in the surrogate trade negotiations?

OJ: Well, thank you very much Mr. Sabally! First of all, I would like to apologize on behalf of PPP to you, my peers, and the audience for arriving late to the conference; we were experiencing car troubles. Unfortunately, we did not bring any of our surrogates with us to this conference. Saul Mbenga and Sainabou Phall could not make it from the United States for the conference. I called them both and left a message but haven’t heard back. Ndey Mbergan and Ndey Ngoneh are new to PPP and don’t know our inner-workings yet, and Bai Tama is my new pal.  We are just here to observe, and as stakeholders to the MoU.

GDC has been in attendance from the start but they seemed to involved in some internal squabbles. In fact, they arrived earlier right before the doors were opened, but they were yet to be acknowledged by Sabally and they were getting impatient. As the leader of the delegation, Ebou Jallow decided to call for Momodou Sabally’s attention:

Ebou: Exchuse me, Mr. Sabally!!!

Sabally: Did someone call out my name?

Ebou: Yes! My name is Captain Ebou Jallow and I’m here with my colleagues on behalf of GDC, but you have yet to acknowledge us.

Sabally. Sorry, Mr. Jammeh! Oh I meant Mr Jallow. I was under the impression that you guys were here as part of the audience since GDC was not part of the coalition and are not signatories to the MoU. However, go head and introduce yourselves.

Ebou: Well, my name is Captain Ebou Jallow and I am here with Saihou Mballoh, Lieutenant Colonel Lamin Gano and MC Cham. Mama Kandeh could not make it because he had to make an urgent trip to Dakar for donations. We were tipped off about this meeting by Pa Nderry Mbai and he was tipped off by his main “sauce”, The Soldier. Wa kissi kissi, wa lohatti. (Lakki Ginay)

Sabally: Thank you, Mr. Jallow! And why is Lamin Gano in a military uniform? Is he hired back into the army by Masanneh Kinteh? Last I saw him he was holding a "potti ndal" (jibida poto) for our hero doctor as he claimed to cure AIDS patients.

Gano: No, Mr. Sabally! I didn’t get a chance to do my laundry and my old uniform was all that was available for me to wear. And you know, once a soldier always a soldier.

Right then, there was some commotion in the back as Otita Cultural Group came in led by Foday Jawla who was jumping for joy telling everyone that he in fact saw Barrow peeking through the curtains and they shook hands. The UDP delegation was disgusted with his eccentric ways. Did he have to bring Otita with him some mumbled? Well didn’t OJ come in with Bai Tama some responded!

Sabally: Hey, stop the dancing and singing. I am the moderator of this conference. You guys dance only if I dance first. DJ hit me!!

The DJ played Big Fa’s anything anything and the place went deadly silent.

Sabally: Well since we all stand for something here, let us continue unabated. So Halifa, you won’t accept Seringne Bamba Manka Mass for Sulayman Bokarr Bah and you still insist on having Pata but Ousainou said Pata isn’t going anywhere. How about if they add two people, one from Mai Fatty’s party and the other from Henry Gomez’s party plus Seringne Bamba Manka Mass and you give them Sulayman Bokarr Bah

Halipha: Sabally, kanang Yap!! Do you know anyone that belongs to Mai Fatty’s party or anyone from Henry Gomez’s party? These are one-man parties!

Mai Fatty: Halipha, don’t talk about my party. You know nothing about the GDC, I mean GMC.

A shouting match ensued between Mai and Halipha for a few minutes. Halipha was heard telling Mai at the end that he was a young man and needs to self- restrain a bit and learn a thing or two from him. A few people in the audience were recording the incident with their phones, and the video will probably be making its rounds on WhatsApp soon.

The conference was called back into order by Sabally after the uproar, but before he could ask Halipha to specify what exactly it would take for him to release Sulayman Bokarr Bah to UDP without getting Pata, a loud voice was heard come from GDC’s direction; it was Saihou Mballoh.

Saihou: Mr. Sabally, I always talking when I’m on Freedom Radio, but you have not given me a chance to talk here since we started. I know how to talk on behalf of GDC and I represent well. You can ask Pa Nderry Mbai or Mama Kandeh.

Sabally: Well, Mr. Mballow, this is not Freedom Radio and I have no interest in asking Mama Kandeh. Besides, didn't Captain Ebou Jallow say that Mama Kandeh had to make an urgent trip to Dakar for donations? Look, like I said earlier, GDC is not a party to the MoU and you are welcome to observe, but you will not be participating in this surrogate trade negotiations!

That's when MC Cham called "bullshit" on Sabally, and another commotion ensued. Out of left field, Foday Jawla, Otita Cultural Group, and the APRC dancers bulrushes the center of the conference hall. Otita Cultural Group was singing their new single "Sayri Boyo" with Foday Jawla and the APRC crew dancing feverishly. Within seconds, a good number of the UDP supporters also joined in. The dancing crowd was building up fast! Ndey Mbergan and Ndey Ngoneh looked at Bai Tama and gave him a signal to hit them with a "raygin tass" rhythm, they were ready to show Foday and his crew how it's done. Unfortunately, Bai Tama realized that his "banti tama" was not in his pocket and that he had left it in OJ's car. Standing there with a dejected look on their faces, Ndey Mbergan and Ndey Ngoneh just shook their heads. Their plan to "tay-yah" Foday Jawla until he collapsed was not going to materialize. They really wanted to teach him a dancing lesson!

Meanwhile, Halipaha was seen shaking out of anger; he could not believe his luck with these conferences. The first one had virtually unraveled and the second one didn't even conclude. Fuming mad, he took off his "white Haftan" and threw on the floor, then walked out of the conference hall with his delegation in his "gensor." He was heard saying under his breath "I don't think I what to be a president any longer, a parliament member will be just fine!"

Ladies and gentlemen, we have another impasse in our hands. Luckily, the ECOMIG Troops are still here to intervene if the need arise.        

THE END

The Post Victory Conference – A Political Satire

To challenge Goloh and have a fighting chance, the opposition parties came together and formed a coalition.  A Memorandum of Understanding was drafted and willing parties signed on. This was their only factual chance, and it worked! Goloh was defeated and sent packing. The freedom clouds rolled in and they ranged from dark gray to light gray, with fifty other shades of gray in between. Freedom is a must and gray is the color. But under the clouds of freedom, the MoU was unraveling, fast too!

There were rumors and accusations regarding cabinet appointments, and the noise kept getting louder.

And yes, as usual, Halipha Sallah held a press conference and hit the online radio circuit to clear the air. In typical Gambian style, the press conference set off an online storm instead. There was more darkness than light, and things kept escalating. With the MoU virtually scrapped and party surrogates running wild online, it became apparent that a "post victory conference" was necessary, not to ease the tension, but to balance the scales a little bit. After all, UDP is the biggest party in the entire wide world. This, my friends, is what necessitated The Post Victory Conference July 2016. Momodou Sabally was selected to be the moderator extraordinaire.    

Momodou Sabally: Ladies and gentlemen of the great people of The Gambia, I am the moderator of this conference. My name is Honorable Momodou Sabally. I was your best presidential affairs minister under our hero, Jammeh. Due to my intelligence and being the Pen of the Gambia, I have managed to wriggle my way into the current government and hence my role in being the MC of this august body. I have Champion DJ Lamin Cham on sounds and the dancers on the stage to my left are some of the other APRC rejects trying to join in this new government led by Suku Signateh. Congratulations to Fatim Badjie and the honorable sister in New York. Masanneh Kinteh will make sure everyone is safe. Champion Sounds, hit me with music!

Halifa Sallah: Hold it right there. This is a conference and not a musical jamboree. President Jammeh is no longer here! Before we get started, as usual, I am the coordinator and the most powerful one here. Please make sure all the blinds are closed because President Barrow is not here and we don’t want him peeking and not saying anything as usual!

Mai Fatty: Barrow can peek all he wants! What is your issue Halifa? I am in charge of the internal security of this $55 million conference hall. I say when the blinds are to close or not. Not you!

Halifa: Anyway, like I was saying, according to our memorandum of understanding and the provisions of our constitution that I helped draft and convince doubters on..Oh sorry, this is a conference on the way forward.  Sorry I digressed. I had the age limit on my mind.

All the political parties and their various leaders feel aggrieved by some issues and we thought we should meet to hash them out. This relates to our online presence and the personalities involved. Therefore, we have agreed that we will be swapping some of our surrogates for better equilibrium. The uproar online keeps snowballing and the scales keep tipping.  We have here Pata Saidykhan, Fangbondi Jatawuleng, Foday Jawla, Bamba Mass and Lamin Jammeh otherwise known as Badibu Mansa. They represent the UDP, AKA Coalition Defense League. We also have Modou Nyang, Sulayman Bokarr Bah, Papa Ousman Lowe and Modou Nyan. They represent the ideals of PDOIS. The GDP is ably represented by Saihou Mballoh, Ebou Jallow, Lamin Gano and MC Cham. The APRC has no one here because they insist they can’t take any decisions in the absence of President Jammeh. Hamat Bah doesn’t trust anyone else representing NRP in this conference and so he is representing himself. Henry Gomez and Mai Fatty have no one else in their parties beside themselves so they will be speaking as a team.

The PDOIS therefore proposes to adopt Pata PJ Saidykhan as a PDOIS member. Pata is the most charismatic of the bunch, a chicken wing lover, lives in Nebraska where he is the only Gambian and he wears an oversized cap. Pata also sports an earring and speaks with an American twang. Not only is he enigmatic, he actually presents his arguments in a sensible manner. Oh and here is the coolest part, rumor has it that he licks his new tennis shoes before he wears them; how spectacular is that?  We know he is ripe for plucking and will be welcomed in PDOIS. We will give the UDP Sulayman Bokarr Bah and take Pata. Mr. Sabally, PDOIS formally requests to take Pata from the UDP

Momodou Sabally: Well UDP, you guys have power. Please notice how I run this conference and I want to know how you feel when it’s all said and done. I have a leadership academy and we are accepting donations. We teach the science of sycophancy. Anyway, UDP what do you say?

Ousainou: Mr. Fatty, where is Pata from?

Mai Fatty: I believe he is from Jara but you know some of the Saidykhans also live in Sanjally Kanikunda. But let’s go with Jara.

Ousainou: What about that guy dancing in the corner in the all yellow outfit with the haphazard haircut?

Mai: Oh that’s Foday Jawla Sir. I have a dossier on him right here.

Ousainou: Halifa, will you accept Foday Jawla? I heard he is a thorn that is on a continuous prowl of the internet looking for the word “government” or UDP. He is unrelenting and quite an intellectual, you will not have a more active and impudent warrior. He lives in a basement in Germany that’s equipped with a strong Wi-Fi connection and is online 21 hours a day.

Ousainou whispers to Mai: What is wrong with Foday? Does he ever get tire of dancing and singing to himself? Or is there something wrong with him?

Mai: He is just an enthusiastic supporter of yours sir, but I heard that he is also missing two French fries to make a complete happy meal as they say in Nebraska. Pata taught me that..hehehehe.

Ousainou: Halifa, Foday is all yours if you will give us Momodou Nyang.

Halifa: I’ve invested too much in Nyang. I can’t swap him for a dancer. You can have Momodou Nyan and not Nyang but I want Pata!

Sabally: Mr. Bah, do you have anything to say? I noticed that you are staring at the window and seem to be zoned out.

Hamat: Oh, sorry! Look, I don’t have much to say. My dream was to be a minister and I’m happy how things turned out. I’m in the cabinet now and waiting for the churai gonga to start smoking. My main focus is to make sure there is no “hemosexualism” in The Gambia and to bring back the backway boys to marry as many of our single women as they can. By the way, the salad we ate in Saudi Arabia was extremely delicious, still licking my lips. I wonder what type of salad dressing they had on it. Mr. Sabally, can you not ask me any other questions please? I don’t want to say much and jinx myself. Thanks

Sabally: Ok Sir! You can continue gazing at the window. Mr. Henry Gomez, we are yet to hear from you. Do you want to chime in before we proceed any further?

Henry: Gambia, forlen tek President Adama Barrow? Fee! Fee fee fee! Suma boysi Germany yee, forlen tek President Adama Barrow? Fee! Fee fee fee! Cheppeh yee yen nak? Fee! Fee fee fee! Ken munut si anything, anything anything. Yes man! Champion sound, hit me with music!

Halipha: Hold it right there! I have already said this; we are here for a conference, not a musical jamboree. Mr. Sabally, can you please expel Champion sound so that we can focus and have a productive conference? I am afraid someone is going ask them to hit them with music again.

Sabally: Mr. Sallah, I am certain Champion sound gets the message now and will not honor the request of those asking. But before we proceed, it has just registered that OJ and PPP are not in attendance. Does anyone know what the issue is there?

Ousainou: Rumor has it that NRP "punked" PPP and took their blue flag, and PPP is pink now. So I guess OJ is too embarrassed to come matching in here waving a pink flag!

Laughter erupts

Mai: Mr. Darboe, I didn’t know you had such a wicked sense of humor, Sir. And I can't believe you know about the term “punked.” Where did you learn that term?

Ousainou: I am on Facebook and Whatssap, remember? And besides, I hail from Niani and we have a brutal sense of humor there. I don’t joke much, but when I do, it’s on fire…hehe

Halipha: Mr. Sabally, can we get back to our order of business please?

Sabally: Yes we may, Mr. Sallah.

Halipha: PDIOS rejects Mr. Darboe’s offer for Foday Jawla! I just received a text message alerting me that people are blocking Foday Jawla online in droves; and if that is indeed true, he may not be useful to us regardless of his 21 hours a day online presence. My phone does not have internet capability, but I have a 1980 macintosh computer at home and will dial up the internet to confirm when I get home. In any event, we reject Mr. Darboe’s offer! Mr. Darboe, we are willing to offer UDP Sulayman Bokarr Bah in exchange for Pata, and this offer is firm.

Sabally: Mr. Darboe, any objections to Mr. Sallah’s counter offer?

Ousainou: Listen, Mr. Sallah, UDP will not release Pata to any of our political rivals in a billion years and that’s written in stone. He is a "ride and die" Lieutenant. However, we are willing to trade Bamba Seringne Kadimu Rasul Mass for Sulayman Bokarr Bah.

Halipha: Bamba who? I am told that he has been massing up my name and dragging my “white haftan” in the streets of Facebook and I do not appreciate such behavior from him. My “white haftan” is supreme like the constitution and should be respected. My Nokia cell phone is game but my “white haftan” is not!

To be continued