I see in the Gambia….

In a girl balancing a large bowl full of water on her head which both of us struggled to lift from the ground

In a women wearing the completos of vibrant colors idly sitting around the dance field in a kuliyo (naming ceremony)

In the ecstatic eyes of dancing women in the clouds of dust

In Brikama car park where young boys scream the destinations trying to get the travelers into the gelli gelli so they can get a small pay

In the gelli gelli and taxi which look like they are making a trip to the scrape yard before the last breath

In women fetching water in their gardens in the heat of the day so they can have some money to feed their families

In the labyrinth of family lineage – mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts, cousins and a number of other family members – that makes the head spin

In the mud huts with the grass roofs which are well suited for the unbearable heat but probably not for the violent rain

In the men gathered in the bantaba to spend a lazy day and share ataaya while their women are banding their backs at home

In the eyes of children screaming toubaab with curiosity, anger or fear hoping for minti, money, gifts or attention

In the hands being dipped into the food bowl filled with rice and durango sauce that are quicky filling the stomachs

In a young guy calling me “boss lady” hoping that the greeting will impress me   

In an intense greetings that are directed to every person one meets personally

In the prayer calls five times a day with the first starting before the sunrise

In my co-workers patiently waiting for the electricity to come back on in the middle of the work day

After six months here it all feels so familiar and close but at the same time so foreign and distant...

A thought on reuse/recycling and waste

Many used things that are thrown away in western countries reach new customers in the developing world. I see cars, tires, batteries, broken windshields, phones, electronics, fridges, furniture, clothes, accessories, shoes, dishes, books and many other things being sold on the streets and in the markets in the Gambia. Old computers, equipment and other things are being donated by the charities and NGO to the local organizations, schools and individuals. The new owners use these things until they are hopelessly impaired. What is next? The dump, which is located on the street, around the corner, in the yard, in the local open dump site, stored at the house or office. To me it looks like this became an efficient way to pass the ownership and disposal of the useless things onto the “weaker players”. Just dump them there under the name of charity, support or another fancy word.

Don’t get me wrong I am glad that things find new owners and are being reused/recycled. What angers me is that those countries are being used as a dump sites. There is no proper waste management there, no understanding within the majority of the community about the waste harm to the environment and human health. There are no regulations in place and there are no funds to establish any type of waste management system. Also people throw things on the ground the same minute they become trash. The concept of garbage can is nearly non existent. Well, you have to look very hard to find a public garbage can. It is a very complex issue that has to be addressed from the bottom – sanitizing people, altering their behaviors and knowledge in regards to trash and its disposal, providing means and help in disposing trash; and creating an effective infrastructure to collect and dispose it in urban areas. It asks for a large task force and funds. But who wants to support the trash? There are so many other problems to be solved that this issue is moved to the bottom of the list of the problems.    

Basse Trip

Many stories and complaints from other volunteers and local people reached my ears about the URR (Upper River Region) horrendous heat. So I decided to experience it myself before the arrival of the rainy season. Even though the distance from Banjul (costal region) to Basse is about 300 kilometers only, the trip across the country takes a long time and is unpredictable. Basse is the biggest town/city in the countries eastern side. I was going to visit Basse and then Kundam, Remy’s (PC volunteer’s) site. So Thursday early morning after the cup of strong coffee, some chocolate and a surprise (J) I found myself on the roadside trying to catch a gelli gelli to Banjul. To get to the ferry at the Banjul terminal I took another taxi from the Banjul car park. It was my first time taking ferry across Gambia River to Barra so not knowing the surroundings there I followed the crowd to the ticket counter. I have also heard the stories about the ferry: not being on time, waiting hours for the ferry to come or it being repaired, large crowds of people waiting for it. I had my book and was gathering patience on the way there. Surprisingly when I passed through the ticket counter and reached waiting area the guards opened the gates and people rushed to the ferry. Again I went with the crowd! Ferry was slower than turtle so the crossing took a little more than an hour. However, I got a chance to enjoy the beautiful sunrise and a warm morning breeze.

 Small boats at the coast.

I met a guy on the ferry who helped me to find my way to car park to get a ‘set plas’, a vehicle, to Basse. Well, none told me that the so called ‘set plas’ is a car not a gelli gelli (a van). I followed the car park guys shouting: “Basse!” who were making their way through the crowd to the parked vehicles. When we finally stopped I saw people quickly boarding the cars and started inquiring for Basse vehicle. The guys pointed to the station vagon in front of me that had an additional set of seats constructed in the trunk. Remy instructed me to avoid by all means sitting in the trunk seats because they are very uncomfortable with small leg room. For a short trip this would not be a big deal but for a 4-7 hour ride it can be difficult. I was able to get a seat in the middle row and didn’t even get charged for a bag. The driver was on a mission – we flew through the countryside, villages and towns without stopping. Well, we were forced to stop only at police, immigration and military check points which amounted to about one and a half dozen of stops. I just do not understand the purpose and meaning of them, but I guess someone found them necessary. Along the way the breeze changed from chilly to warm and by the time we reached Basse it got hot. The scenery also changed from dry lands dominated by palm and baobab trees to the patches of small green grass and leafy trees. East part of the country usually receives the rains first so they already got to enjoy the rains several times. At Janjanbureh (Georgetown) were waited for another ferry to cross the river. It was quick and not painful. Upon entering the URR the smooth paved road ended and we found ourselves on the bumpy dirt-gravel road. However, this did not slow down the driver.  The vehicle was pretty beat up but handled dashing through the dirt road very well. I set my feet in Basse after about 7 hours of traveling which was very quick and, I learned, unheard of. I was very lucky - maybe a birthday gift. After meeting with other volunteers and exploring the Basse market we had an excellent chicken dinner at Aminata’s, local family restaurant. Early next morning I together with Remy biked to Kundam, his site, which is about 10 km way from Basse. Traveling on a mountain bike on a dirt road made my lazy muscles to work extremely hard. By the time we reached the destination I was out of breath and soaked in sweat. However, the countryside was beautiful – huts (houses) with grass roofs, fields that are being cleared (prepared) for the planting, bush (local forest of shrubs and trees), a swamp with palm trees and shrubs; and hills! Most of The Gambia is rather flat except for some hills in this eastern part of the country. I was not thrilled to bike up them, but the view made up for the sweaty workout.

It is interesting to see the sites of other volunteers, meet their families and explore their surroundings. I was warned about the extensive greetings there, their importance and was trying to prepare myself for this experience. In my village and the cities where I travel the greetings are not as lengthy. The daily busyness and rushing altered the traditional ways. I was told that Kundam village consists of three separate fulla villages (areas) and one mandinko village, where I was staying. Fullas are herders and not so much farmers, where mandinkos are farmers. Remy showed me the mandinko women gardens and the fields which were being prepared/cleared for the farming. During the rainy season they will grow there millet, maze and groundnuts.

Anyways, I was (or we were) greeted by nearly every person on the way to the compound and Remy’s family members. One of his moms is soo pregnant and I was told is due any minute now. Unfortunately it did not happen when I was there.

 Women relax on bantaba in family’s compound

 Remy’s host family’s home.

I also met Jude, Remy’s playful puppy, who followed and guarded us most of the time, unless she was sleeping from exhaustion being dragged around for hours.

Jude is snacking on a discovered piece of fish.

After settling in and porridge breakfast we left for the mountain-hill, where the ginny (devil lives). As I was told the local people believe that the ginny lives in the hills and people do not go there (except for non believers). The view from the top was breathtaking, especially from the giant rock that was sitting at the side of the mountain. 

We got lucky to see enormous monitor lizard who was running from one hiding place to the other. I am glad we were not in his way. Scary looking one! (it was too quick for the picture).  After an unsuccessful bird (forgot their name) hunt with rocks we left the mountain and its picturesque views.

In the afternoon I got a chance to observe (and participate!) a blacksmith’s, Remy’s uncle’s, work of making a hoe. He is a deaf and most of his time working in his workshop. I learned that most of the people in the village know the sign language and have no problem in communicating with him.  I was amazed to see how accurate his work is without any measurement. The metal was shaping so easily in his hands. One can never think that he was working with the steel. He was using his bare hands to place hot coal in the fire place without any sign of pain or discontentment on his face. The skin on his palms was nearly as hard as the steel itself.

 In the process of molding the metal.

 Working hard.

I was excited to sleep outside second night in a row. For people in the area sleeping outside is a necessity and not adventure like it was for me. It gets very hot outside and inside the houses gets even hotter and impossible to sleep. People sleep on the bantabas (outside concrete structures with the roof) or beds placed near the houses.

The following day we, together with Remy’s counterpart Alaji, who knows the area well, went to the bush and the river.

 Gambia River

 Alaji and Remy

We wondered for several hours in the bush exploring the trees and the area. Remy and Jude jumped in the water to refresh. Jude was thrown in to the water against her will. The water was warm and it probably did not have much of the cooling down effect.

 Not interested in water!

Later she was distrustfully looking at me and Alaji while observing her owner swimming in the water and moaning. The day became very hot without a cloud in the sky as we were heading towards the village.

After the weather cooled down a bit I headed back to the Basse to spend the night at the PC transit house and catch a ‘set plas’ early in the morning – another long day on the road. Right at the beginning of the ride I realized that riding those10 kilometers against the wind will be quite a workout – and it was. I was panting while riding up the small hills and asking my legs not to give up…a little bit more, a bit more. I made it back to the house drenched in sweat and covered with dust. I ran for the shower right away hoping to cool down, but since the tank was sitting in the sun all day, there was only a hot water trickling down from the shower head. The drying with the towel was useless – my body had not stopped sweating. After chatting with some volunteers and locating a sandwich for a dinner I was exhausted from all the activities and was ready to place my head on the pillow.

Next morning I left the house before the sunrise and was able to observe the waking up of the town. At first I felt uneasy walking alone in the dark in the unknown city (walk is about half an hour) but soon I was consumed by the surroundings. I was greeted by two older men who were pacing and having an intense discussion. I was greeted by the growling dog that was suspicious of toubaab woman walking down the street. I passed by the gas station where a man was reciting the Koran right when the sunlight started brightening up the morning. I passed by two chubby pigs looking for early breakfast, leftovers from the previous night. I passed by the early vendors preparing for another long and hot workday. I passed by the harmonious toad chorus in the swamp. I passed by the gelli gelli and people rushing to go places. I passed by the crowds of bats squealing in the trees by the local hospital happy that the rest time had arrived. I passed by the people still snoozing on the benches in front of their stores-bitiks. I passed by the guys yelling and asking where I was going hoping to get another traveler in their vehicle. I passed by the shopkeepers with sleepy eyes and voices, until I finally saw the ‘set plas’ and the guys trying to get the passengers traveling to Barra. After winning the bargain to pay for a bag only 30D, instead of 50D, I was ready for the traveling. The trip was long and sleepy. Without a morning coffee cup I was dozing most of the way. Barra port was overcrowded with cars and people rushing to go places. The ferry was parked at the port and I, together with some other travelers, rushed to the ticket counter to get to the ferry before it left for Banjul. The crowd waiting for the transfer was massive. When the gates opened people rushed through and ran to the ferry, hoping not to be left behind. It seemed that the ferry had more than thousand people onboard, plus the cars. I think the maximum number of people was determined when there was no available place to sit or stand. I was grateful for a small piece of bench offered by the kind older man. Exhausted by traveling and the sun I was happy to be getting closer to home.

I loaded more pictures onto picasa: https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/sredir?uname=lkelpsaite&target=ALBUM&id=5622093145732980017&authkey=Gv1sRgCMfCpJK8gZnpoQE&feat=email



So am I sitting on my butt all the time enjoying the Gambian sun and heat?

You probably wander what I have been doing here for the past six months. Having a vacation?! Well, not really. After the swear in March we had so called three month challenge which is to stay at the site for three months without extensive traveling, get situated, improve language skills, get to know community, find work (if did not have one assigned) and if bored - start working. The challenge ended with the week long in-service-training at the end of May with which the trainings officially ended.

I have been posted to work with the Ministry of Agriculture, Soil and Water Management unit. They assist the farmers and rural communities by constructing the dikes around the rice fields to control the water level, building the berms in upland areas to control erosion and building the berms around the villages to divert the water flow. Unfortunately this year there have been problems with funding. No money – no work. Until now I have only visited few sites and did some surveying. However, I was able to locate some other projects and places to work. Our village school (Yundum Lower Basic School) pump broke down in March and since then there has been no water at school. It has been difficult for students and staff. Fortunately we have been approved for grant to build a solar energy powered pump with taps located at different places in the school area. Yay!! I learned about it right on my birthday – the present I was looking forward to! The grant will be provided by USAID through Peace Corps. I hope the construction will be finished before the new school year starts. Insha Allah!  

I also started working with the REFESA, women association, located in Farato. The organization has just started to developing. They do some food processing and batik. We are hoping soon to get electricity for the office and a computer. In addition to food processing we will spend time building capacity, locating the funding, developing programs for other women kafos and etc. However, first step is the ‘kick off’ meeting.

Because of lack of work at my assigned workplace I found another place to work (full time) that needs assistance – NACOFAG, farmers association. REFESA is registered under them. This Monday was my official first day there. I will assist their women associations, youth groups, maybe some grant writing and etc…well soon I hope to learn more about it.

I also continue gardening in my back yard and family’s garden. Just planted some basil, rosemary, sunflower, cherry tree, strawberry tree (!), zucchini, and moringa. I hope to establish small moringa garden and teach/convince my family to add it to meals daily. It is abundant in vitamins and minerals and other good stuff. It is called a miracle tree because of the health benefits and a never-die tree because it is very easy to grow.

Looks like that I will be turning away from the engineering and technical work, which I am very much okay withJ   

Garden update (June 3rd)

Few days ago I harvested the first cucumbers!! They were very, very tasty! The squash has been doing great, but the fruit flies has been attacking it by laying eggs in the fruits. So hatched worms have been destroying the ‘baby’ squashes before they mature. I was recommended to cover them, which helped to save some of the fruits. They started to mature…However, I have discarded close to three dozen of destroyed ‘baby’ squashes. :( Sweet pepper, tomato, carrots, parsley, pigeon peas and onions are doing well too. I am including some pictures in this posting that I took few days ago.

 Moringa nursery.

 My garden

 Tomatoes, sweet pepper and onions

 Cucumbers. The one that is in the picture I had yesterday for dinner. Yummi!

 Carrots, onions, pigeon peas... well everything mixed together:)

Fortunately or hmm… unfortunately (depends from which perspective you look at it) the rainy season arrived! Last night, around 4 am, was the first rain. I was woken up by the sound of raindrops hitting the corrugate roof and the first thunder of the year. Half asleep I could not resist to open the door and to watch the heavy downpour. It means that today there is no need for watering the garden. No pulling numerous buckets out of the well and carrying them to the garden to water the plants! Well, to be honest I quite enjoy fetching water (jibyoo) which is a way of exercising the core muscles, but after the back injury a week ago it has become a torture. Anyway, I also learned that tomorrow (insha Allah) we will get the tap in our compound which is long overdue. The tap will be connected to the city’s water supply system and we will be able to use water from it for watering the garden, washing clothes, bathing, cooking and drinking. Although, the women of my family do not show it, I know that they are very happy to finally have the water supply at home. Insha Allah!

Futu Situ = Gambian Wedding

I had several opportunities to attend the traditional Gambian wedding. One of them was the wedding of my host sister, Sarata, which took place in my family’s compound.

Traditionally the courtship begins with the offering of kola nuts to the parents of the bride-to-be by the suitor's family. If the father accepts them, a dowry is discussed and a date for the ceremony at the mosque is arranged. The wedding of my host sister got scheduled a week after the start of the courtship.

The wedding was going to be a small gathering for the extended family but it turned into a large celebration for family, friends and village people. In the Gambia there is no official invitation to the celebrations (programs, as they call them here). Everyone is invited! Large number of guests demonstrates that the family is known, respected and liked in the community.

The preparation started a night before the wedding day. I came home in the evening and found about twenty women in the process of preparing the food, chatting and laughing continuously. Enormous cooking pots and cooking utensils made me suspicious of the indicated “small gathering”. I joined the women force in peeling and cutting cassava for ebbe, one of the foods loved by Gambian women but I am still indifferent to this strangely tasting food. So that night the fish was fried, chicken marinated, and vegetables prepared for cooking.

Early next morning as I was leaving for work I found handful of women at out compound sweeping, fetching water, organizing and preparing for the daylong cooking event. At work I was anxious to be at home, observe and help with the preparation so I left work early and rushed home. When I entered my family’s compound, I was astounded - about four to five dozen women were cooking, eating, or sitting and chatting. The enormous pots were boiling on the fire and women like witches from fairy tale stirring the ingredients inside them. When I entered the party, all the eyes got fixed on me, the toubaab women. I was staring at this party speechless and they all were staring at me – questioning. Since the food preparation was nearly completed I sat with the women and tried to communicate making them laugh from my flimsy Mandinka. Later in the afternoon the dancing party started with few women beating the rhythm on the bidongs and several other fiercely dancing and laughing. The party was attended by the griots, people from the entertainer cast, who went around collecting money (5D usually) for praising each person’s family name. They are considered the local historians, because they keep history of each family and share it with others during the celebrations. The stories are passed among griots from generation to generation. I was approached by several of them and listened glorification of Bojang family (my local name is Fatou Bojang) and their name. The guests also give money to the drummers, cooks and grandmothers. So called “mama palato” (grandmothers plate) is placed during the celebration to collect the donation for the grandparents. There are many “mama palato” circling around because in their extended family situation there are many grandparents.

Anyway, in the same afternoon the bride was send-off to get a hair do and dressed for the celebration. While she was away the festivities continued and more women kept arriving. Food was served as it was prepared: rice porridge for lunch, afterwards – ebbe and benachin.

The “knot tie” was scheduled for 5pm at the main Mosque. The ceremony is attended only by men. They discuss the duties, arrangements; say the speeches and prayers. Kola nuts are handed over as well as the groom’s side pays the dowry to bride’s family. The groom was working and did not attend the ceremony (I learned that the wedding can take place even if the groom and bride are outside the country and living in different continents). After the “knot was tied” the men came to our home for the meal after which they quickly departed.

The celebration moved to the next empty compound where the music equipment and lights for discothèque were set up. The guests (women) kept arriving, in my opinion, they easily exceedied a hundred. Each dressed up in “completos” of different vibrant colors and massive jewelry. The dancing and celebration continued without “main guests”. Guests were served ebbe and salad (chicken, fried onions and potatoes placed on the bed of salad).

Bride arrived late in the evening, after the sunset. After visiting with the close family she made a grand entrance into the dance area encircled by the guests. Strangely to me but typically to them, she looked serious and sad. A special song was played for her entrance and she was surrounded by dancing women. After she sat down she got surrounded by people who came to congratulate her and take pictures with her. Then she went around the circle of guests so all of them can congratulate her. I did not see her smiling even once. The dance and more money giving (usually 5-10 dalasi) to the bride followed. The music and dancing continued late into the night after the bride and most of the guests left the celebration.

The strangest thing to me was absence of the groom at the ceremony. It was a celebration for bride and the women. No men were present (except for the young boys).  

The marriage ceremony is very important here. The ceremony differs from area to area and from tribe to tribe. Some of them can last up to three days. This wedding, I think, was a mix of the traditional ceremony and modern (western) elements.   

Sweetest Attaya!

In the Gambia the attaya culture follows you everywhere – in market, on the street, the in compounds and in the celebrations. It does not have a set time – morning, after lunch, lake afternoon, after dinner and before the bedtime. It does not have a set age – children as old as two years enjoy the sips of it or you can notice one secretly licking the leftover drops. It does not discriminate by the gender – women enjoy it as much as men do, although a significantly larger number of men consume it. Very common picture is to see men relaxing at bantaba (gathering place) under the mango tree and brewing attaya. 

The green tea import from China will never go bankrupt – I cannot imagine the daily life of the Gambian man without attaya. Each bitik has a surfeit supply of it so there is no shortage. I can see a customer throwing a fist when there is no attaya tea available in the bitik. First few times I tried it I questioned its significance. It is a very strong bitter tea with load of sugar. After a few more tries it slowly but surely persuaded me. I enjoy it nearly daily (increasing the risk of diabetes by consuming so much sugar), but it is just a bitter-sweet piece of heaven!

So what you need for brewing attaya? - A small attaya furnace, charcoal, tea kettle, two shot glasses, a plate, tea, water, sugar, and lots of patience. Attaya is served in three rounds: the first is strong and bitter, the second more sweet, and the third is very sweet. It’s supposed to reflect friendship: with the time it becomes more pleasant and more sweet.

Place some charcoal in the furnace and start the fire. Place glasses on the plate. Measure an amount of water depending on the number of attaya drinkers - let’s say three shot glasses. Boil the water in tea kettle, add some tea (e.g. one glass) and continue boiling. Take the kettle from the furnace. Pour some attaya into a glass, pour it back and for the between the glasses to create a foam. Keeping the foam in the glasses, pour the liquid back to the kettle and bring to the boil again. Wash the glasses and the plate. Add a few mint leaves (if available) to give tea minty flavor. Next goes the sugar, about one glass (if you like it more bitter, add less). The boiling and mixing between the glasses is repeated several times depending on the amount of foam desired. When it is done pour it into the glasses and serve on the plate.

Then repeat the whole process two more times each time adding more water and sugar (if needed more tea too). On average the process (or ceremony) takes about an hour. At my host family compound it is only my host dad and me, who enjoy it usually after the lunch. Sometimes he asks to have it brewed after dinner, late at night, but I cannot handle so much caffeine and sugar right before the bed time.

Have you ever tried same or similar tea in any other part of the world?       

A blurb on the Ethnic Groups of The Gambia

I got hold of my host sister’s, Khadija’s, textbook: Social and Environmental Studies (grade 9) and wanted to share with you some things I read about the Gambia’s history, its culture and people. The information in this write-up is base on this book.

Even after four months spent here it still fascinates me how different ethnic groups live side by side in peace. The major ethnic groups are the Mandingo, the Fulla, the Wolof, the Serere, the Jola, the Serahule, the Aku, and the Manjagos. The groups also have different dialects within themselves.

Most of the people speak several languages. If lets say Fulla man marries the Mandingo wife their children will speak both languages or if Wolof family moves to Jola village they and their children most likely will learn speak Jola language and etc. If a Jola child has Fulla and/or Mandingo friend, he learns to speak those languages.

The Kombo area is dominated by Wolof language, which is considered local business language. So when I am in Kombo area I usually use English, since I know only few Wolof words. My village is dominated by Mandingo. There are also quite a few Jola families, but most of them speak Mandingo language.

Nowadays intermarrying between the ethnic groups is common. The ethnicity of offspring is considered the same as his/her father’s.

Manndingo is the largest ethnic group in the Gambia today. They originated from Manding tribe in the empire of Mali. Their significant migration to the Gambia started in 13^th century, when the empire of Mali was founded. They moved in search for better agricultural lands and more opportunities for conquest and settlement. Mandinko established their rule in the current areas of Guinea Bissau, the Cassamance region of Senegal (today’s Senegal area, south of the Gambia) and the Gambia. The empire had a centralized system of government with three levels of authority: the lineage, the village and the state level. Lineage is referred as an extended family – everyone, excluding the strangers, belonged to the lineage. The members of the lineage lived in the same or related compounds. At the village level, the village had a chief with the council and at state level – the king with the council. The empire came to the end by the 19^th century, when it was invaded by the Fulla. Today Mandinko people are ingaged in business and farming, especially groundnut production.     

Fula origin is not well known but it is thought that they are the descendents of Berbers who intermarried with the people of Tekrur. The first group of Fulla settlers consisted of nomads, cattle rearers. Even to the present day most of the kettle is owned by the Fulla families, but they usually have permanent homesteads. Later another group of Fulla settlers came to the The Gambia with the intention to spread the Islam. They had a theocratic system of government - the law of the land was based on Sharia (Islamic) Law. The states, “imamates”, were ruled by the imam, the religious leader. After conquering Kaabu (Mandingo) empire and conquering other surrounding places the Kingdom of Fulladu was established which joined together the area of Cassamance region and part of the Gambia. Today most of them are engaged in raising cattle, farming and business. Northern, eastern and central part of the country is still largely populated by fullas.

Wolof people originated from Sahara (Southern Mauritania) and migrated to the current Gambia area around 8^th century looking for the more fertile land to farm. They had similar governmental structure as Mandingos. However, what is interesting is that women played a leading role in their political system. King’s mother or sister, called “Linguere”, was responsible for settling disputes on women affairs, represent king in state functions and supervise the villages among other things. The heaviest migration of wolof into the Gambia occurred during the religious wars in 19^th century. They established themselves in Banjul area and on the north bank of the Gambia River as traders and shipbuilders. However, at present north bank wolof people are mostly engaged in farming.

The origin of the Serere people is not known. However, it is believed that they were forced by frequent invasions to migrate from the north Senegal and settled to the north of Gambia River. There were two Serere states in the region - Sine and Soloum. ‘Saalum’ means ‘North’ in Madinko language, which is believed came from the Soloum name of the state. Serere people are closely related to the Wolofs. Today they are found primarily in along the river mouth. Fishing is their main occupation.

Jolas are believed to be the earliest residents of the indigenous people in the Gambia. They never organized themselves in the kingdoms and lived in small independent communities/ villages lead by the village head, “Kanda”. The “Ayi” was a spiritual leader in some Jola communities who was rarely seen by the people. He was isolated and lived in groves. Jola women never inherited property left by their husbands or fathers. Even though Jolas embraced Islam or Christianity, they retained more of their traditional practices and beliefs more than the other ethnic groups. Today many Jolas live in the coastal areas of the country. Mostly they produce rice, palm tree products and raise animals.

It is believed that the Serahuli are rulers and merchants from Ghana Empire. They were highly involved with the trade during the Trans-Saharan trade, buying and selling commodities such as gold, salt and kola nuts among the others. Although many live and farm in eastern part of the country, Serahuli are known for their diamond and gold trading activities throughout West, Central and West Africa. They are also known for their tie-die and pottery. 

 Aku (or Creole in Sierra Leone) are descendants of freed African slaves who came to The Gambia during 19^th century from Sierra Leone after the abolition of the slave trade. Due to their close contacts with European community, they were the first to receive formal education. Today they are mostly engaged in Gambian commerce and the civil service.

There is little known about the origins of Manjago people, but it is believed that they originated from the coastal region of Guinea Bissau. They were seafaring people who worked with the Portuguese in trading. They are also known as excellent weavers. Even today whenever there are weaved baskets in the compound, it is almost certain that the compound belongs to Manjago family. They are mainly Christians who grow pigs (and eat their meat) and drink palm wine.

Oh…and I forgot another important group – tuubabs who came to The Gambia from tuubabadu, the land of whites.

Even though each ethnic has its own culture, traditions and language, they share many cultural patterns between themselves due to interconnection throughout the history, the small size of the country, same religion (Islam) and intermarriage.

I think another reason for such peaceful coexistence between different ethnic groups are established joking relationships. For the longest time I could not grasp the meaning of it until one day it finally made sense. The relationships are between the ethnic groups (e.g. Serer and Jola, Fulla and Jola), settlements (e.g. Sukuta – Gunjur), surnames (e.g. Conteh – Camara, Jallow – Bah, Jammeh – Badjie) and others. When I was in the training village my surname was Conteh (I lived in Conteh Kunda/compound) so anytime I passed through Camara Kunda Mr. Camara used to comment on how much Conteh family eats, that they have big stomachs and etc. You just laugh and talk back that Camaras are the ones who eat non stop, that they are the slaves for the Conteh. Historically many different relationships and jokes formed between different groups many of which I have not learned yet. It is so fascinating!