In Praise of Taxi drivers

The Gambian tourist season here is now largely over: the most popular time for visiting The Gambia is between mid November and the end of April. Then the temperatures and humidity levels are kinder and it is outside the rainy season.

This is the time of year when taxi drivers prepare for the leaner income months ahead.

Their services will still be needed but at the more usually modest seven-seven rate.  The difference between a seven-seven and a taxi is generally how much of a tourist the customer appears or chooses to behave.

The main artery from Fajara down to Westfield is the Kairaba Avenue. Here are the main larger shops and junctions off to Senegambia and Serrakunda. This road is always busy, teeming with traffic, much of which is coloured yellow and green: the taxis.

The drivers have a system of beeps to communicate with others. They beep to let pedestrians know they have space aboard; they beep when approaching a small junction to warn other vehicles, they beep to admonish and to greet. In short they beep almost continuously, adding to the cacophony of the traffic. (Perhaps this should be called car-cophony.)

Taxi drivers eyes light up when “toubabs” (fair skinned folk) hail them and they are hugely disappointed, sometimes even quite bad tempered, when we demand a seven-seven fare like the locals. This fare of 7 Dalasis will take one person any distance along a set route, rather like a bus journey. After an evening out, though, especially when coming home alone I always get taken all the way to my door, and I am happy to pay taxi rate which is negotiated before we set off. This is called a town trip and gives the passenger exclusive use of the taxi whereas a seven-seven ride allows 3 other fares to be picked up too. It is a very effective system for all.

But the taxis do so much more than simply carry people around town.

They are also the removal men and quite small taxis with roof bars can often be seen dwarfed by a three piece suite on the roof, or the boot hatch wedged open by a fridge in transit.

The other day on my way back from St Therese’s Upper Basic School, a taxi drove by with a dozen lengths of drainage pipe twice as long as the car itself balanced precariously on the roof. Cars in all directions stopped as the taxi with its cumbersome load turned, across the traffic at a busy junction. The arc of turn was impressive.

With very little notice taxis will take people on long distance runs up country or even for a few days away in neighbouring Senegal. The taxi driver becomes guide for the short holiday and many even manage without accommodation. Such long distance journeys are challenging because of the condition of many of the roads. The south bank road is still sand along a third of its length and will deteriorate rapidly in the fast approaching rains.

The taxis also serve as breakdown vehicles and most carry tow ropes in the boot for this inevitability.

But recently I have found another taxi function. As a consequence of becoming an unofficial guest house proprietor, thereby producing more waste than was expected, my landlord has given over the task of rubbish removal back to me. A waste collection system has not been fully established here so this presented me with quite a problem. I did not want to add to the growing abuse (or existing vulture colony) of the large area of undeveloped land at the rear of the Pink Palace and so had to find a solution. As you would have guessed by now this solution was a taxi driver – in fact he is the messenger at the office who operates a taxi as a second job in the evenings.

So once a week I get a lift home and my rubbish cleared away to the official site in nearby Bakau. Of course it gets a “town trip”.

Rights In Schools

The week after Easter was shortened by the holiday to just three days with only the Wednesday available for usual office work, due to the three day workshop that was booked to run from Thursday to Saturday.

The Wednesday brought to the office a young head teacher, Alieu Boye who I had got to know when I was based in Mansa Konko. He is impressively dedicated to the pupils at his school, Medina Sancha Lower Basic which lies far south of The River Gambia, almost at the Senegalese border.  I enjoy his good humoured enthusiastic professionalism and so it was a pleasure to see him again. We talked about his school which has grown to 130 pupils. The children come from extremely poor families in the district and their diet causes him concern. He is hopeful that soon paperwork will be processed by the authorities to include his school in the World Feeding Programme. A hot rice meal every day will make a huge difference to his pupils’ health and concentration abilities.

It can also be expected to drive up enrolment and attendance statistics. Alieu would also like to initiate a school garden, as fresh produce would improve the diet even further.

Education here is notionally free but there is a small charge for incidentals. In this case it is 15 Dalasis per year, per child. This brings in an annual school income of just under 2000 Dalasis, about £45 in total. This meagre sum is to cover all other costs apart from salaries which are paid by central government. The salaries are not high; this is not surprising of course but what is, is just how much of his own small income Alieu uses for the good of the children. In addition he gives freely of additional effort and time to improve the facilities. For example he transported, by donkey and wheelbarrow, essential second hand items obtained from other schools. This is how, he said with a triumphant grin, he managed to obtain his blackboards and some reading books.

Alieu came to the office with a specific request but I’ll tell you more of that later.

First I want to tell you about the 3 day workshop. It was so collaborative and such fun that although we achieved a lot it did not feel like work at all. Headed by Action Aid, our group comprised numerous other organisations centred on a promotional campaign for three of the ten “Rights in Schools”.

These are:

Non-discrimination, i.e. access for the poor, those with Special Needs and both genders.

A safe and non-violent environment i.e. journeys and a school day free from bullying, harassment (of all types) and corporal punishment.

 The right to participate i.e. opportunities to contribute ideas and to the decision making process as a whole

 Throughout the three days our group of 10 worked; reviewing documentation, drafting action plans and agreements and devising questionnaires.  We are now ready to roll out a programme aimed at raising awareness about Children’s Rights with everyone associated with schools, not least the students themselves.

All 10 Rights are unquestionably an entitlement that every child world wide should expect. It will be a wonderful day when they can

Now what of  Alieu Boye’s request?

 It is for water. His school has no supply.

The village well lies a considerable distance away, outside the school gates and is too dangerous because it is completely open. Providing school drinking and washing water is almost impossible, and his dreams of a garden are completely out of the question.

Costs for a bore hole or well inside the school grounds are prohibitively high (about £11,000 without guarantees) so this has to be ruled out unless sponsored by a knowledgeable corporation.  He is unable to find one that is interested.

The only feasible solution is for the authorities to agree an extension to a new piped supply going into the village, providing a stand pipe and tap. If permission is granted to extend pipe work the 200 metres to the school, the costs involved will not be.

Alieu is seeking additional funding for the work as well as the installation of a large overhead tank within the school site.

Over the last few months friends back home have sometimes emailed me to express interest in helping or sponsoring education here in some way. This one off project would be a worthy cause and Alieu Boye is sufficiently robust, honest and dedicated to see it through.

Let me know if you are interested and I’ll find out what has to be done.

After all water is such a basic right, it isn’t even on Action Aid’s list!

Food For Thought

Last week was a highly social one.

 On Wednesday I was given a lift in the GTU van to Bundung Upper Basic School, which is situated on the far side of the huge and confusing Serrakunda market. The driver introduced me to the softly spoken headmaster and we entered his office which was most impressive; spacious, clean and well lit, despite there being no power at the time. His three large desks were piled high with folders on all aspects of running a double shift school with over 4,500 pupils on roll.  Almost immediately we were joined by the area Cluster Monitor; one of the regional team, who acts as a regular adviser/friendly inspector.

The table to one side of the room was where the drinks and food were laid after we had worked our way through the first half of the morning. We shared a food bowl of cous. Much to the amusement of my two colleagues I drank tea with milk but no sugar. This is alien to Gambians, most of whom take 5 or 6 spoonsful in every cup. Throughout the break they kept glancing at me and grinning in disbelief.

At the end of the morning I spent some time out in the school yard with pupils eating their rice and sauce lunch, traditionally seated on the ground in groups of four. Once again I marvelled at the task of preparing so much food every day. Many schools in The Gambia benefit from the World Food Programme which supplies the rice and other staples for the chldren’s meals, ensuring that they do at least have a daily hot meal for most of the week.

In vivid contrast, on Thursday I was invited by VSO to more sumptuous dining at the Ngala lodge, one of the more prestigious hotels in the Gambia.  Our host was the new assistant British Commissioner, an affable and alarmingly young Scot called George. With him was Richard, on a 72 hour whirlwind tour from the Foreign Office in London.  The five of us sat at a small table in a beautiful balconied room over looking the sea and the unanimous choice from the menu was the delicious local butterfish.

The evening brought a quiz night at the Fajara Club. I have to admit that I have not been a fan of such events before but here it pays to try out new things, especially in good company. Before the quiz Mary, Catherine, Daniel and I ate together. Having eaten so well earlier in the day I looked for something light and had the piri-piri shrimps. Hot and delicious!  Happily Sarah joined us but this gave us the problem of exceeding the quiz team maximum of four! Mary and I decided to form a splinter group along with a club regular, another Chris. After several hours and a lot of fun we actually won, but Chris and I can take little credit.

 Saturday lunch was with my work colleague, Matarr and his family at their home. We sat on sofas and watched television as we shared a dried fish meal, cooked by his wife’s mother and traditionally served as food bowl.

As you can see I was spoiled all week, rarely cooking for myself and eating such a range of foods in a great variety of settings and company.

There will be those who can maintain these standards despite the poor Sub Saharan harvests last year but there will be many more who will suffer in The Gambia and neighbouring countries, unless the application for international food aid is successful. Food for thought for all of us.

Back to Every Day Life

The temperatures are rising here in Kanifing and from midmorning onwards it is best to be indoors or keep to the shade. Walking the fifteen minutes to the office every morning is fine because at 8.15, the sun is far from full strength but later in the day it is wise to be more careful. The many lightweight scarves I brought out with me are proving useful to cover the back of my neck and shoulders on the walk home. It is not yet as humid as it was last October which is something to be grateful for. However I am sure that those volunteers up-country are decidedly more uncomfortable already.

The weather is also affecting the many street dogs living around Kombos. Medium sized, lean, sinewy and tan in colour, they pay scant attention to people and roam the streets at will, dodging in and out of the traffic. However the older and infirm few that I pass each day, stretched out at the roadside are beginning to suffer, panting in the increasing heat. It is a distressing sight.

The walk is always on sand, some of it quite deep and difficult to negotiate but I am motivated by the thought of the good it must be doing my thigh muscles. Some of the journey is along small back lanes but as I get nearer to work, the roads are tarmac covered and much wider and busier. I pass the large Serrakunda Hospital and MDI building, part of the University of Gambia with its pretty mosque in the front corner of the attractive grounds.

Just opposite is Ndow’s Comprehensive Lower Basic School. Sometimes, if I am running a few minutes late (not really possible in Gambia but being English I can’t help but clock watch) I see the young master dressed smartly in shirt and tie ring the morning bell at the school gates. The pupils still walking down the long road immediately break into a run. As they draw level with the master, a slim man with closely cropped hair, they smile and exchange a hurried greeting. It is an engaging sign of mutual respect and I am reminded of the village school back home.

Outside the school some women, possibly the mothers’ club,
 run stalls selling drinks, (some home made and frozen) , tapalapa bread and other snacks. They always return at the close of each school day too.  Certainly a tuck shop with a difference!

Such snacks are also available in several bitiks on the way. Most people take breakfast this way rather than try to make it themselves before leaving home. It is possible to buy acra or nebbe (beans) or omelette in your tapalapa morning sandwich. Onions, mayonnaise and pepper are optional extras. If you choose to eat more healthily, but expensively, there are a few fruit stalls at the busy junction by the hospital.

Jainaba's stall at Traffic Light

I sometimes buy bananas here but for my weekly shop I travel up to Traffic Lights to stock up on Jenaibah’s wonderfully fresh produce. But this local stall near the office is very welcome in emergencies. Another emergency was recently dealt with by the stall holder on the opposite side of the junction.

My extremely comfortable Reiker shoes, ideal for this harsh terrain and climate were beginning to unravel at the toe. For a few Dalasis the shoe/watch repair man stitched them back for me seated under his large “pub” style umbrella.. Rather than leave me standing on the baking hot road sand barefoot, he loaned me a large pair of men’s sandals. I don’t think I presented much of a fashion icon!

The small office “compound” where I work is just a little further on from the repair man’s stall, on the far side of the chaotic MDI junction. Crossing is perilous and can take quite a while. Cars, taxis, vans, gely- gelies and lorries whizz round left and right, often finding a short cut across the sand, alarmingly behind the pedestrians.

It is not uncommon to strike up a temporary nodding acquaintance with someone on the opposite side also trying to cross.  It is such chaos that in its own way it is quite marvellous. Eventually we make it with a real sense of achievement and I enter through the gates to the compound, exchanging morning greetings with the watchmen in the small building at the front. The compound accommodates three organisations: Education For All is to the right of the central quad; straight ahead from the entrance are two separate buildings: the one on the left is the Gambian Teachers’ Union and to the right, FAWEGAM the union’s female wing.

Before entering I tip the sand out of each shoe and pop my head round the door to the meeting room to greet Adelaide, grandmother and founder member of EFA. Alahjie makes me a cup of tea and brings it into my small office opposite the main entrance.

I switch on my computer and the air conditioning with fingers crossed that the electricity will last at least most of the working day………. and sometimes it does! 

A Time of Contrasts

A month has passed since I caught the plane home. The time has just sped by and I can’t quite believe I have already been back here in Kanifing for a week and a half. The UK holiday was much needed, as despite all my Gambian adventures I achingly miss friends and family while I am here. Meeting up with so many of them in February was wonderful, especially being there for the birth of my grandson, Alexander, on Valentine’s Day as well as big sister Lucy’s second birthday.  As she grows I can tell the story of how I flew home from Africa to play with her so that Mummy and Daddy could go to the hospital for Alexander’s arrival!

I cannot recall how I have spent the bonus day, other leap years have brought but I know I will never forget February 29th 2012. It was the last day of my holiday and I was staying with Mum. The day began with tea in bed and during the morning Ted and I walked across the soft soil of the fields down to the beautiful old village church and the pretty churchyard and cemetery. We spent the afternoon chatting before a favourite dinner: salmon, salad and jacket potatoes. Then I enjoyed a soak in a deep warm bath. 

These things are no longer “ordinary”!

Neither is the bakery section in Tesco’s. Out shopping one day, I caught Mum and Ted laughing at me as I stood transfixed by the incredible range of breads on offer.

Well, now I have returned to the Pink Palace, tapalapa bread, much higher temperatures and intermittent electricity. I have also rejoined the team at EFA, Education For All , working alongside GTU (Gambian Teachers’ Union) and FAWEGAM, a wonderful group campaigning for women’s rights. Last Friday night I was invited to join their party for a fund raising dinner at one of the Senegambia hotels. It was a very successful event with the president’s wife alone donating D100,000 towards a building project. I enjoyed the company, delicious food and range of music but have to admit to an inability to appreciate the Wolof comedian.

All the Gambian women looked spectacular, dressed in a myriad of colours; fabrics and impossibly high heeled shoes, shimmering with sequins and glass.

I wore brown – an English pheasant amongst birds of paradise!

Bully for us!

The pink palace has been bursting at the seams for a week or so now. 

Sarah, still down from Basse, had to move out of her usual temporary lodgings with me and relocate to Mary’s near Bakau.

This was to make way for the group from Kerewan.

I felt like a hotel proprietor: the small bedroom, with recently acquired floor mattress became the “Celtic Corner” for Gareth, the spare double room, for Vicky and Nfamera, was named “The Bridal Suite” in recognition of their recent Islamic wedding. I retained my room (HQ) and poor Suki had to make up her bed each night on the bamboo sofa in the lounge. This suited everyone as she is quite an owl when it comes to bedtime and she also felt that the hard surface would benefit her troublesome back. Actually she deserved more than “Suki’s Squat” but it was all too easy to accept her kind offer.

Everyone was down in Kombos to welcome the new group of volunteers.  At first it seemed strange to us to be regarded as the “old hands” but we soon realized that this is indeed what we have become. The new volunteers are quite an international group with a few from Britain, one from Switzerland, another from Indonesia and several from other African countries. I recognised their bewilderment as we jumped in and out of 7,7s and explained how the geli-geli system operates. After their first week in the Safari Garden Hotel, the newcomers have now moved out, either into their Kombos accommodation or into the shared house, in the case of those going up country. And so the VSO cycle continues!

Lyn, Catherine, June and me

During the five and a half months I have been in The Gambia I have come to realise just how important and sustaining are the strong relationships with fellow volunteers. This is an aspect of the placement I did not consider much before coming and yet it is absolutely vital. The challenges of volunteering can be considerable and completely outside any previous experience. Since coming out we have all needed each others help at some time. We frequently cope with the strange and unexpected and although there may be a lack of expertise amongst us, this is more than outweighed by collective and unstinting support. Solutions are always found.

Just recently it was my turn, having encountered Miss Trunchbull's African cousin! (x ref Matilda by Roald Dahl). I will not dwell on these difficulties here, except to say that I have transferred to a new job with an advocacy group for inclusive education. The staff are enthusiastic, professional and welcoming, I am really looking forward to working with them for the rest of my placement and am glad to say that the focus of my work remains the same.

Luckily for me Suki, Sarah and Mary were around as wise (and often irreverent) counsel throughout.

My mind is now fully occupied with what is happening today because late this evening I shall be on a flight to Brussels and with another “hop” will be at Heathrow by mid morning tomorrow, arriving at my mothers just in time for Sunday roast (A SUNDAY ROAST!!!)

I feel almost overwhelmed by excitement at the thought of a holiday back home, catching up with the family and welcoming my second grandchild (due tomorrow).
It will bring a Blog Break too. I’ll resume in March.

Success at Abuko

I indulged in a taxi to take me from Kanefing to Westfield at 8 30a.m on Thursday, 25^th January.  My excuse is that for three days I had been struggling with a heavy cold and temperature (yes they do happen even here). The taxi driver assumed I was late when I jumped onto the back seat, as each morning when I walk past I usually joke that I need the excise more than his services.  This morning I surprised him!

Westfield is a bustling junction and street market. People jostle and call; selling wares and rounding up passengers for gely-gelies going in all directions. Amid all the chaos I needed to find one going towards Brikhama. Two men darted forward and began haggling over which one had got to me first. I chose one and followed him to his gely, realising almost immediately that my selection had been unwise as the vehicle was practically empty. This meant quite a wait as gelies do not leave according to a schedule. They leave when they are full!  

I didn’t worry too much as I did have time to spare but changed my mind just after a taxi drove smack into the rear of the gely-gely,  As voices and temperatures rose  I quickly jumped out through the open door and in through the one on the side of the gely gely in front, taking the last seat.  The apprentice clunked the sliding door closed and we set off immediately.

I was bound for Abuko Lower Basic School for another wonderful day with Bernice and my “stop” was “Veterinary” in Abuko, right next to the African Locust Project.

The journey went so smoothly that I arrived early, while Bernice was busy with a visiting teacher from another school. Luckily Mr Touray, a senior teacher, was on hand to take care of me; finding me a chair and offering me a choice of locations. I asked him to put it outside, in the enormous school yard. Gambian mornings are cool just now and it was enjoyable to sit in the fresh air listening to the bustle of a very happy school where gentle good humour and respect is almost tangible

Next to Bernice’s office was an empty class. The teacher was away unwell and so her pupils had been divided up amongst the other classes. This is unusual in Gambia. Often in such circumstances, classes, of even very young children, are simply left for the day unsupervised if the teacher is absent. It is indicative of Bernice’s team’s professionalism and care that the children’s learning needs come first.

 As I sat, I watched the children coming and going in their blue uniforms. Plain blue skirts for the girls and baggy knee length shorts for the boys, topped by checked shirts or blouses. Despite financial struggles, Abuko families take a pride in dressing their children smartly for school. It made me giggle to spot one or two of the boys, rushing along the long front porch, and stop just short of the head’s office, to make sure their shirts were tucked in. Another two boys travelled and scuffled with each other wearing grins from ear to ear.  Shyly in their wake came a tiny little girl, dressed in the green check of the nursery, completely accessorised in pink: backpack, shoes, socks and hair ribbon. A fleeting timid smile crossed her face as she passed me.

Even the most earnest young faces readily crack into the most brilliant of smiles.

I looked over to one side of the school yard where the new nine classroom block is under construction. The second floor looked nearly complete but there is also to be a third. Apart from this additional floor, the new block replicates the design of the old one; the integral porches providing protection from the hot sun and heavy rains.

Each floor in the new block will house three classrooms with some office space allocation, probably for the deputy as Bernice could not bear to leave her neat little office in the heart of the original building. She would like it even more if it were spruced up a little and has plans for this old block to be redecorated, if funds can be raised.

Despite all these plans there was little actual activity on the building site, an hour after the children started lessons. The children in grades 1 and 2 chanted, grades 3 and 4 teachers questioned and the boys from Mr Touray’s class carried large sections of branches over to the school kitchen to fuel the brick ovens.

The workmen sat and considered!

Overhead about 20 large birds of prey, eagles or vultures, circled and soared. Those that came low revealed long twigs in their beaks. They were busy nest building, but sadly the workmen were not busy at all! Oh well “domanding, domanding” as they say in Mandinka, “little by little”.

For the first time I began to notice the health posters stuck along the external walls. Child death rates are falling here so the drive to promote such things as: Malaria prevention, hand washing before handling food, catching coughs and sneezes is obviously having positive effects.

Schools are the obvious community centres to take the lead with health initiates, educating children and parents alike.

Suddenly Bernice was free and I could join her for a couple of hours checking the draft of her Development Plan which I had been working on since we last met. We enjoy each others company, sharing very similar professional concerns and joys, despite careers in different continents.

By lunchtime the smile on Bernice’s face matched that of her pupils. She was delighted with her first workable School Development Plan which reflected all her intentions over the next few years.  She immediately discarded her earlier version. Strategic Planning was introduced into schools here in the recent past but was not based upon a review structure. This has caused confusion. Taking the Minimum Standards (The Gambian equivalent of Ofsted) as a basis I have devised a School Self Review programme which can be done either manually or on computer, which a few heads do have. I am actually quite proud of my knowledge of the Minimum Standards, feeling I am almost ready to take it as a specialist subject on Master Mind.

Bernice was the third head teacher to work through the process with me and afterwards we celebrated with tea and fresh salad from the school garden. While we ate we chatted over our work, giving me an insight into ways to improve the process for the future. Working in a partnership is without doubt the most pleasurable part of my work here, and there has never been a better time than  with Bernice.

One of the biggest challenges for Gambian Head teachers is the new focus on free early education for very young children and so as we had time to spare I asked if we could visit the ECD (Early Childhood Unit).

The building is a three classroom annexed block completely walled off from the rest of the site, but set within it. The unit is painted green, reflecting the colour of the uniform. There is a garden and some swing frames ready to be put into action when the teachers choose to add the seats.

Each of the classrooms had about 50 children, in fact one had 57. The children all sat on chairs intended for children a few years older but they sat happily; keen to chant letter sounds or known choruses, echoing their teachers, two of whom were young men. This is not unusual here. In fact there are so many male teachers, there is a national drive to increase the number of women teachers to 40% of the total.

These ECD classes had a blackboard, number line and letter frieze. Bernice explained they also had counting resources. This, to UK eyes, is a very meagre amount of equipment but children do not have much at home and so expect few material goodies at school. It still leaves me in awe of how such large classes are managed with so few resources.

On our way back, we walked along the edge of the yard where pupils were eating their dinner. Rice is provided by the World Food Fund and the cost of the sauce is met by each child bringing  2 Dalasis a day.

Huge bowls of food were collected by the staff and set out on tables under one of the trees. The rice and the sauce were ladled into large plastic bowls which were placed in the centre of small groups of children who ate in the traditional way: crouching and eating with their right hand. It was a happy sight and later it was a privilege to visit the kitchen team who provided the meal. Mostly these were the “mothers’ club”, about 8 women led by the indomitable cook. Laughing, the team of helpers explained that they too were volunteers as they were paid in rice – a 50kg bag each every month. The kitchen was large, clean and immaculately ordered. Across the back of the main room was a brick staging.

Set within the second “step” were four fire holes where the logs brought by Mr Touray’s class earlier were aflame under the large pots above. These were filled with water (ready to take the rice) and the sauce.

I wondered why all this was going on when I had just seen the children eating. Then I remembered. This is a double shift school. The 650 pupils who had eaten were the morning shift. What I could now see  was the preparation for the second sitting, later in the afternoon.

As I left I saw into the second smaller room, It was neatly filled with gleaming pots, each one the size of my UK oven!

Everything at Abuko is amazing: the level of care, professionalism, community involvement and respect for learning but my most enduring memory will be the smiles, laughter and genuine welcome.