#GambiaDecides2021
The Gambia will have its first democratic election after the end of Yahya Jammeh’s 22-year reign of terror tomorrow. There is a fervor amongst Gambians both in the Smiling Coast and the Diaspora. Unlike the preceding elections 5 years ago, which handed power to incumbent Adama Barrow, there is little fear in the air. Tension certainly exists among the supporters of the 6 candidates, the political ideals they hope to champion, and even the tribes of which they identify. While some precautious families are stocking up on extra bags of rice and other provisions, just in case something goes amiss, there is a stark difference between this year and December of 2016. For the first time in decades, there is a sense of excitement among the people of the Gambia around an election. For the past several months we’ve seen healthy debates among presidential candidates and would-be Twitter and WhatsApp political analysts alike. This election cycle bought froth new women candidates whose viability was albeit misogynistically scrutinized but not immediately dismissed. For my family, it is the first election cycle in which my grandmother who is in her 80s will be an active participant.
Yaa as we call her, has never stepped foot in any institution of western education. She is a student of life, who’s excelled in her years of study. Since January 21st hours after Jammeh took his walk of shame into a jet, headed to Equatorial Guinea, my family learned that we had a comedian/ political scientist in our midst. “Yeh Jammeh dandang airportotoleh ko maño” “they escorted Jammeh to the airport like a new bride,” she said while chuckling on the other side of the phone. It was both a relief and shock to hear her even mention Jammeh by name over the phone, something she’d never done before. We tried to get her to go to Senegal, during those days of uncertainty that lead to Jammeh’s exit. “Tuss teh kella” “nothing will happen” she would respond to our pleas, as we saw images of hundreds of people who we perceived to be the sane Gambian’s filling up ferries to Senegal and safety. During those terrifying days, we on the outside of the country were acutely aware of Jammeh’s capability to kill, make people disappear. Our loved ones inside compounds with nothing to protect them but new shiny padlocks for the gates seemed like sitting ducks, waiting on the whim of a murderer. My grandmother’s unwavering faith, whether in the Gambia or her own ability to protect herself, both equally formidable seemed whimsical and almost reckless in 2016. As she prepares our entire compound to vote on Saturday, having done all the research on where their local polling station is, I wonder if she knew something we didn’t in 2016.
In the last 5 years, Yaa has become a vocal critic of Adama Barrow’s administration. She freely discusses the nuances of the daily politics in The Gambia in a way she couldn’t have dared to for 22 years. Yaa gets her news either by watching TV at the highest possible volume, or from a small transistor radio which seems to run out of batteries every two days. She listens to the Mandinka and Wolof language programs, digests the information, makes her analysis, and presents her findings via WhatsApp phone calls or voice notes to her American grandchildren, an attorney, economist, and budding anthropologist. We listen with glee to this woman who is decades older than the very republic she is criticizing. Other family members have also become radically political over the past few years. We now joke about an uncle who lost his shoes while fleeing from teargas canisters thrown to disperse a peaceful Three Years Jotna demonstration. The story while humorous, simultaneously paints a grim picture of the progress the current Administration has made on providing its citizens with basic human rights. From the beginning of his term in office, the relationship between Gambians and Barrow was odd. Gambians decided to oust Jammeh but did not necessarily choose Barrow, the product of an internal coalition 2016 vote. In spite of this, many were optimistic about our new president and his potential to improve the lives of the average Gambian, while making sweeping systemic changes to a government that perpetrated so much harm against its citizenry. Barrow fell short of his mandate and promise to the Gambian people. His latest rhetoric and past tactics to quell voices of dissent invoke the pain of our recent history. What has changed is that the Gambian electorate does not fear Barrow.
Most Gambians have had or know of a loved one jailed, disappeared, or murdered by the former Administration. For those of us in the diaspora, the damning evidence of cruelty put forth by the TRRC (Truth Reconciliation and Reparations Commission) shed new light on the horrors of which our families back home were in proximity. Jammeh turned the soil of our smiling coast into a mass grave, and yet we managed to bloom. As a society that survived the collective trauma of the Jammeh years, we will not forget. Gambians are not approaching the polling stations as a perfunctory duty on Saturday. We are aware that the stakes are high for our fragile democracy. That the current president has bastardized the compact between him and the Gambian people by entertaining a potential coalition with our former dictator’s party APRC is not lost on us. These tensions while palpable, do not compare to the fear of imminent death for simply uttering the name Jammeh on a phone call. For Gambians on the ground and in the diaspora, there is reason to be proud and celebrate Saturday, December 4th.