“How often do you get to experience a dictator’s peaceful departure?”
Gambia’s president for the last twenty-two years, Yahya Jammeh, refused to step down after losing the December 2016 election. The US State Department issued a “Do Not Travel” warning and US embassy staff and families were being evacuated. Neighboring West African states sent peacekeeping forces to prevent civil war. But I saw no reason to take a six-hundred-kilometer, wussy detour from Dakar around Gambia to get to my next country Guinea-Bissau.
What could possibly go wrong, right Sis?
Jammeh declared a state of emergency shortly after I arrived in the capital Banjul. Graffiti filled the walls of my Brusubi neighborhood; Jammeh Must Go, #Gambia Has Decided. The standoff was in its second month and thousands of Gambians had fled the country.
ECOWAS troops entered Gambia from Senegal and I snuck a photo of their machine gun nest at the roundabout near my hostel. A local resident warned me, “Watch out, they’ll just take your camera and break it.”
Mauritania’s president met with Jammeh but couldn’t persuade him to leave. President-elect, Adama Barrow, was sworn in at the Gambian embassy in Dakar, Senegal.
Everything shut down, all of Banjul was deserted. No street vendors, no kiosks, no taxi stands. After three straight days of eating canned tuna and boiled eggs I searched for fresh bread and water. I thought this is what I get for ignoring the travel warnings. Doh!
Omar worked at a used-car lot and waved me over, “Come sit down and have some tea with us.” Omar sent one of his “boys” to buy me bottled water and then flagged down a bread delivery man riding by on his bike. Thou shalt have bread. Hallelujah.
Most Gambians I spoke with didn’t like Jammeh, but a few loyalists still defended him. One woman told me, “What kind of president gets sworn in outside the country? That’s a weak president.”
Omar’s friend Rahim explained to me why he changed his mind about Jammeh. He said everybody has their good side and bad side. “Jammeh loves his country, he really does. In my twenty-two years I’ve never heard shooting, I’ve never seen someone die. Gambia has been peaceful.”
“But a few years ago things got really bad, people were stealing everywhere. We weren’t free to speak our mind.”
“Jammeh always said he’d protect Gambia’s women and children until his last drop of blood spills. But so many women and children have left the country now and he’s not helping them. So, now I hate Jammeh.”
Gambian police confiscated a huge shipment of cocaine that—according to local legend—mysteriously disappeared. Another man, who spoke on the condition of anonymity because he wasn’t authorized to speak to skinny foreigners with ponytails, told me “Jammeh is a drug dealer and a murderer.”
The Gambian political crisis continued and I still needed a Kim’s View. So I rented a bicycle and rode fifteen kilometers to Abuko Nature Reserve to search for a Kim’s View. It was hot as hell and I took a shortcut off my Google Map’s main road. Big mistake. The sand was so deep I had to get off and walk the bike. Even worse, the nature park was a disappointment and I couldn’t find a cool Kim’s View. But at the animal sanctuary I did score my first hyena kiss.
The ten-mile ride back to my hostel was special. Not because I was sweating bullets and my ass chafed on the hard seat. Not because I failed to score our Gambia Kim’s View. And not because the narrow two-lane road didn’t have a bike lane and the shoulder was all pot holes and wash board. My ride home was unforgettable because that’s the moment Jammeh finally agreed to leave Gambia.
President-elect Barrow was flying back from Senegal and Gambia’s entire population was headed the opposite direction to greet him at the airport. People lined up along the streets near the airport to catch a glimpse of their new president.
Every available vehicle was jampacked with people sitting on top and hanging out the windows, many of them driving crazy and swerving into my lane to pass the long line of traffic. I was wearing my #Gambia Has Decided, pro-Barrow T-shirt so everyone was honking, waving, and smiling at me. Their joy was infectious. I raised my clenched fist, made peace signs, and flashed my pearly-white porcelain crowns.
Kim’s View in Bijilo Forest “Monkey Park” isn’t great but my Gambia visit was a Hall-of-Fame travel experience. We witnessed something rare—a peaceful, democratic transition of power in West Africa. And we would’ve missed everything, Sis, if we took a wimpy detour around Gambia. KV
