$27.50 in Canada; ebook $9.95 US
Copies may be purchased at bookstores in Canada
at $27.50 & from Amazon.com or ordered from directly from the publisher: New World Publishing, Box 36075, Halifax, NS B3J 3S9 1-877-211-3334 toll-free; www.newworldpublishing.com The Gambia Saga as an ebook may be ordered at www.amazon.com at $9.95 US and at www.amazon.ca at $13.95 Cdn. |
The Gambia Saga
A true story of adventure and achievement, risk and resilience, luck and learning The inspirational 34 year history of the Nova Scotia - Gambia Association Unique perspectives on international development & lessons learned . . . . sometimes the hard way With insights into the history and politics of The Gambia, including the fall of the Jawara government and the rise and fall of Yahya Jammeh "An eloquent and accessible story punctuated with humour, blunt honesty, and local and cultural context" |
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Map of The Gambia
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Basse Santa Su, Gambia, 1990
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Allan Street, Banjul, 1982
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,The Gambia Saga is available for purchase in The Gambia at the new office of the Nova Scotia - Gambia Association (NSGA) on the Senegambia Highway, near Bijilo, about 10 minutes walk or a one minute drive from the Petroleum House at Brusubi Turntable.
Special price: 500 dalasi. (Proceeds go to support NSGA's work in Gambia)
Copies of The Gambia Saga are accessible to scholars and researchers at The National Archives, Independence Drive, Banjul. Contact: Chief Archivist Hassoum Ceesay
Special price: 500 dalasi. (Proceeds go to support NSGA's work in Gambia)
Copies of The Gambia Saga are accessible to scholars and researchers at The National Archives, Independence Drive, Banjul. Contact: Chief Archivist Hassoum Ceesay
Vignettes from The Gambia Saga by Burris Devanney
Part One: An Improbable Country - 1982-84
A Family Memoir, 1982-2019. Nearly forty years ago my young family and I went to live in a country so small that it appears as just a squiggly line on the map of Africa and so improbable that colonial master Britain once considered trading it to imperialist rival France for a pair of tiny islands off the coast of Newfoundland. . . . According to travel writer Paul Theroux, “The best travel is a leap in the dark.” If so, thus began an epic memoir of risk, resilience, adventure and achievement, and the inspiring tale of a unique development NGO and a fearless little country in Africa. . . .
Twelve-year-old Matthew was the only of the children to offer methodical resistance to our decision to accept the posting in The Gambia. One evening at dinner he asked pointedly whether parents had “the right to take one of their children out of his own country against his will.” The implication was that this was a legal and a human rights issue. . . .
Arrival in The Gambia, 1982. Disembarking at midday in most airports in West Africa invokes elemental feelings. You step from the air-conditioned chamber of the aircraft into the fiery embrace of an alien atmosphere; you are suddenly enwrapped in a scorching wet towel; the sun dazzles; the aluminum stairs glisten; you step down onto burning tarmac; heat radiates upwards as you trudge toward the line of distant terminal buildings shimmering in the haze like a mirage. You’re first thought is, I can’t live here. . . .
At War with Roaches, 1983. They were larger than my big toe with a shell casing strong enough to break a fly swatter and endowed with the speed and jerky elusiveness of a rat. At first we would see just one or two of these Artful Dodgers scurrying down the hall at night, sticking close to the baseboard, under which they could magically slip to safety in a mini-second. Sometimes as we arose in the morning, we would find one in the hallway on its back, unable to roll over, its six legs flailing. Louanne would happily pick up the helpless creature bare-handed, carry it to the kitchen door and toss it to the hens free ranging on the compound. But one night after midnight I got out of bed and flicked on the light switch in the bathroom and apprehended a whole colony of the creatures all over the room, one of them draped over my toothbrush. For a long second none of them moved. It was a tableau of amber cockroaches and a sight to remember. A second later, all of them were gone. For the next eighteen months, now that we had a sense of their numbers, we went to war with them. It was a conflict we couldn’t win, but the casualties were many.
Matthew teaches neighbourhood watchman Omar how to play ground hockey, 1982.
Sara with schoolmates at Gambia High, 1982-84.
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Michelle's 11th birthday party in Gambia, 1983
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Louanne and the Fishman, 1982.
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Part Two: A Unique NGO - 1985-2006
We Were Lucky, 1993-94. The fiscal year of 1993-94 marked the first of a series of difficult financial challenges for international development NGOs (non-government, non-profit organizations) across Canada. For some NGOs, too dependent on government support, it was the beginning of the end – and that may have been our government’s intention. The Nova Scotia – Gambia Association (NSGA) had not grown big enough or fast enough to become dependent on government funding, but we peaked in our asymmetrical relationship with government just in time to reap more support that year than at any time in our brief existence, escaping the axe long enough to find further and unprecedented support from unexpected sources. We were lucky. . . .
The Day of the Coup, 1994. In those days very few homes or offices in Georgetown on the Gambia River had a telephone. If a news item was not carried by the BBC or Radio Gambia, no one in Georgetown would learn about it until cars and buses arrived from Banjul, the capital, carrying news in print or by word of mouth. So for Georgetonians, July 22 began like any day: nothing to report. By 2:00 PM our training team of 14 Canadian and Gambian peer health educators had crossed on the hand-drawn cable ferry to the south bank of the river and was awaiting the arrival of the GPTC bus to Banjul. The teamwork of pulling the motor-less ferry across the channel gave us the illusion of being in control of our environment – a feeling which soon gave way to its opposite, as events beyond our knowledge and power took command of the day. The first inkling of the coup d'état in progress was the news, whispered by someone just arriving from the coast, that a shot had been fired in Banjul. . . .
The Almudo Project, 1994-96. For my Canadian colleague, Brian Horne, if there was ever an assignment in his life which he was destined to fulfill, it was to lead our project for street children in The Gambia. Initially he saw the project as “a risky journey into the dark heart of Islam.” Later he would revise his view: the journey was always risky, but the heart of Islam was not dark. It was indeed just a human heart. At one point in his journey, he became a Muslim himself. . . .
*The UEP, 1995-2000. The 1999 graduation ceremony marked the high point in the brief history of the Saint Mary’s University Extension Program in The Gambia. It is ironic that the program would enter an extended low point just a few months later, culminating in a two-month suspension of courses and an uncharted transition process from the UEP to the University of The Gambia. In retrospect, the convocation was a blaze of light which faded through a long, slow brown-out over several months into weeks of darkness. The sustained reaction of many of our Gambian students during this period of prolonged uncertainty was something akin to mourning. . . .
The Play’s the Thing, 2002–20. Drama was central to the whole Peer Health Education Program. So we recruited forty dynamic graduates of the program, formed them into community drama troupes, and put them to work five days a week in streets and market places across the country as professional actors whose job was to entertain and educate Gambians of all ages on the major health issues of the day. This was a transformational moment in NSGA’s work. The troupes became a vanguard for everything we did, bursting onto the scene, breaking down psychological barriers, opening up channels of communication, making believers out of non-believers, and bringing to life realistic situations faced by Africans every day. . . .
NSGA’s Drama Troupes in Urban and Rural Centres, 2002-20 Some of the most fruitful sites for their presentations were the ferry terminals, where people of all ages and stations in life were waiting idly in large numbers for the ferry to arrive. There were farmers with bags of maize or coos, herders with one or two cows or sheep, petty traders with every kind of consumer product, and businessmen in suits. . . . Abdul Qadri Ceesay, captain of the team based in rural Basse, reported: “At Koina more than 500 people attended, including the alkalo. It was amazing. People laughed till they fell on each other. A village elder said, ‘These are the most intelligent young teachers that I have even seen.’” Meanwhile, Modou Tala Jobe of the Banjul city troupe was basking in the glory of being a neighbourhood seer. Every evening he sat at his door and received an unending series of visitors, young and old, male and female, who came to plumb his mind on virtually every health topic imaginable. He had become known as “the young doctor.”. . . .
In Sierra Leone, 2002-06. In those days the fastest way to get from downtown Freetown to Lungi International Airport was via one of the decrepit Soviet-made helicopters operated by Paramount Airlines. The age of these helicopters, their original purpose and murky history, and their current state of maintenance were, at best, forensic issues. On these matters, first time passengers were free to conjecture, but frequent users, however wary, declined to speculate. . . . The heavy-set Russian and Ukrainian pilots were gloomy and avoided eye contact with passengers. Like their helicopters they had seen better days. However, the journey was as spectacular as it was doubtful. . . .
Resilience, 2020. When all this started back in the 1980s with a couple of dozen Canadians, mostly public school and university teachers, meeting at a Halifax high school, none of us dreamed that we were creating a unique, resilient institution that would endure for at least forty years – and perhaps even outlive all of us.
_______________________
*Re Omar Joof: I wish to correct two statements on page 297 of The Gambia Saga. I am pleased to confirm that, contrary to what I reported in the narrative, Omar Joof did eventually complete his bachelor’s degree program at Saint Mary’s University and, now that Yahya Jammeh is no longer in power in The Gambia, I am informed that Omar hopes to return to his home country in the near future. I have always respected Omar and regret any pain that these errors may have caused him or his friends and family.
The Day of the Coup, 1994. In those days very few homes or offices in Georgetown on the Gambia River had a telephone. If a news item was not carried by the BBC or Radio Gambia, no one in Georgetown would learn about it until cars and buses arrived from Banjul, the capital, carrying news in print or by word of mouth. So for Georgetonians, July 22 began like any day: nothing to report. By 2:00 PM our training team of 14 Canadian and Gambian peer health educators had crossed on the hand-drawn cable ferry to the south bank of the river and was awaiting the arrival of the GPTC bus to Banjul. The teamwork of pulling the motor-less ferry across the channel gave us the illusion of being in control of our environment – a feeling which soon gave way to its opposite, as events beyond our knowledge and power took command of the day. The first inkling of the coup d'état in progress was the news, whispered by someone just arriving from the coast, that a shot had been fired in Banjul. . . .
The Almudo Project, 1994-96. For my Canadian colleague, Brian Horne, if there was ever an assignment in his life which he was destined to fulfill, it was to lead our project for street children in The Gambia. Initially he saw the project as “a risky journey into the dark heart of Islam.” Later he would revise his view: the journey was always risky, but the heart of Islam was not dark. It was indeed just a human heart. At one point in his journey, he became a Muslim himself. . . .
*The UEP, 1995-2000. The 1999 graduation ceremony marked the high point in the brief history of the Saint Mary’s University Extension Program in The Gambia. It is ironic that the program would enter an extended low point just a few months later, culminating in a two-month suspension of courses and an uncharted transition process from the UEP to the University of The Gambia. In retrospect, the convocation was a blaze of light which faded through a long, slow brown-out over several months into weeks of darkness. The sustained reaction of many of our Gambian students during this period of prolonged uncertainty was something akin to mourning. . . .
The Play’s the Thing, 2002–20. Drama was central to the whole Peer Health Education Program. So we recruited forty dynamic graduates of the program, formed them into community drama troupes, and put them to work five days a week in streets and market places across the country as professional actors whose job was to entertain and educate Gambians of all ages on the major health issues of the day. This was a transformational moment in NSGA’s work. The troupes became a vanguard for everything we did, bursting onto the scene, breaking down psychological barriers, opening up channels of communication, making believers out of non-believers, and bringing to life realistic situations faced by Africans every day. . . .
NSGA’s Drama Troupes in Urban and Rural Centres, 2002-20 Some of the most fruitful sites for their presentations were the ferry terminals, where people of all ages and stations in life were waiting idly in large numbers for the ferry to arrive. There were farmers with bags of maize or coos, herders with one or two cows or sheep, petty traders with every kind of consumer product, and businessmen in suits. . . . Abdul Qadri Ceesay, captain of the team based in rural Basse, reported: “At Koina more than 500 people attended, including the alkalo. It was amazing. People laughed till they fell on each other. A village elder said, ‘These are the most intelligent young teachers that I have even seen.’” Meanwhile, Modou Tala Jobe of the Banjul city troupe was basking in the glory of being a neighbourhood seer. Every evening he sat at his door and received an unending series of visitors, young and old, male and female, who came to plumb his mind on virtually every health topic imaginable. He had become known as “the young doctor.”. . . .
In Sierra Leone, 2002-06. In those days the fastest way to get from downtown Freetown to Lungi International Airport was via one of the decrepit Soviet-made helicopters operated by Paramount Airlines. The age of these helicopters, their original purpose and murky history, and their current state of maintenance were, at best, forensic issues. On these matters, first time passengers were free to conjecture, but frequent users, however wary, declined to speculate. . . . The heavy-set Russian and Ukrainian pilots were gloomy and avoided eye contact with passengers. Like their helicopters they had seen better days. However, the journey was as spectacular as it was doubtful. . . .
Resilience, 2020. When all this started back in the 1980s with a couple of dozen Canadians, mostly public school and university teachers, meeting at a Halifax high school, none of us dreamed that we were creating a unique, resilient institution that would endure for at least forty years – and perhaps even outlive all of us.
_______________________
*Re Omar Joof: I wish to correct two statements on page 297 of The Gambia Saga. I am pleased to confirm that, contrary to what I reported in the narrative, Omar Joof did eventually complete his bachelor’s degree program at Saint Mary’s University and, now that Yahya Jammeh is no longer in power in The Gambia, I am informed that Omar hopes to return to his home country in the near future. I have always respected Omar and regret any pain that these errors may have caused him or his friends and family.
UEP Student Union 1998-99
