The Gambia

On 18 February 1965, The Gambia attained its independence from the United Kingdom. The Gambia is the smallest country on the continental mainland of Africa. English is still the official language of The Gambia. The Republic of The Gambia was declared a few years after independence, on 24 April 1970.

In the nineteenth century, at the end of the slave trade, the Biritsh formed the military post of Bathurst, which is now the capital, Banjul. At times from 1816 until 1888, Banjul was under jurisdiction of the British in Sierra Leone. In 1888 it became a separate colony.

After gaining independence, The Gambia’s prime minister and then president was Sir Dawda Kairaba Jawara, until in 1981 the stability under his leadership was shattered by an attempted coup. President Jawara, in London at the time, appeals to Senegal for assistance, and the Senegalese defeated the rebels. In 1994, in a second military coup d’etat, the Jawara government was deposed. This time, Yahya A. J. J. Jammeh took power. He was elected as president in 1996, and then again in 2001. There were apparently some shortcomings in the elections, but overall they were deemed free and fair.

A recent population estimate stands at 1,517,000. During the three centuries of the transatlantic slave trade, as many as 3 million may have been taken from the region.

The poet Lenrie Peters, born in The Gambia, studied at Cambridge and has worked as a doctor both in the UK and in Africa. He has published four books of poetry.


We Have Come Home

We have come home
From the bloodless wars
With sunken hearts
Our boots full of pride—
From the true massacre of the soul
When we have asked
‘What does it cost
To be loved and left alone’

We have come home
Bringing the pledge
Which is written in rainbow colours
Across the sky—for burial
But it is not the time
To lay wreaths
For yesterday’s crimes.
Night threatens
Time dissolves
And there is no acquaintance
With tomorrow

The gurgling drums
Echo the starts
The forest howl
And between the trees
The dark sun appears.

We have come home
When the dawn falters
Singing songs of other lands
The death march
Violating our ears
Knowing all our loves and tears
Determined by the spinning coin

We have come home
To the green foothills
To drink from the cup
Of warm and mellow birdsong
To the hot beaches
Where the boats go out to sea
Threshing the ocean’s harvest
And the hovering, plunging
Gliding gulls shower kisses on the waves

We have come home
Where through the lightning flash
And thundering rain
The famine the drought,
Lingers on the road
Supporting the tortured remnants
of the flesh
That spirit which asks no favour
of the world
But to have dignity.