Smart Town Revisited (Part Two)
By Baba Galleh Jallow
Our little town could most of even more worthy folks. There were our great
and famous intelligentsia, or in simpler jargon, the most Dontelligent ones
of our little town. These were really the cream of the crowd, the pride of
the peacock. Most prominent among them were Liontalk Ratheart, Toughdo
Littlemove, Tarpet Gaindegi, Gisyeb Gumbogi, Fumdem Yahafa, Reyjef Tuutihel,
and last but not the least, Londitii Emptyhead. These our special folks were
not only intellectually active, but also mental rustic. Often times, they
could be seen in their favorite tails and ties, their hippo-hide boots,
their expensive wooden pens tucked proudly in their breast pockets, marching
proudly up and down the streets of our little town, or trading their
intellectual wares at the bantaba, a permanent smile on their slightly
parted lips, which gave them a rather frightening air of sophistication.
This most popular group in our little town had all it took to be what it
was. Young and smart and more than a little educated, they were the dream of
every rising youngster and the scourge of every arrogant boaster. Arrogant
boasters and mental midgets who came to our little town trying to show off
their intellectual prowess or trying to show that they were clever were
abruptly put in their places by these our highly learned folks. One
statement or question from any one of them and such boastful pseudo-scholars
are left gaping and confused, gasping for breath and looking for an escape
route this way and that, like frightened rats. They could make our little
town as uncomfortable as a blazing oven for any conceited boaster who came
there pretending to be master of some field of knowledge or the other. Such
was the weight of their academic bazookas!!! Such was the awe they inspired
in our little town!!
The favorite past times of these our gentle learned folks were matters of
academic work
and debate, reading and writing, brainstorming, and complex analyses of
subjects ranging from the advanced principles of whatyasay to such complex
subjects as parrotry, chickenry, hostile teeth-gnashing and the principles
of friendly cooing and angry rattling. Our common townsfolk never tired of
hearing these sophisticated giants of our little town expound their juicy
theories, propound strange new ones, or dismantle some seemingly difficult
theorem or other. They particularly enjoyed seeing the likes of Tarpet
Gaindegi whitewashing mouthy folks who came to our little town and pretended
to be clever.
The most prominent among these endowed folks was Gisyeb Gumbogi. Homo
Gumbogi, as our common townsfolk fondly referred to our pious Gisyeb, was a
specialist in maata foof techniques, a skill that was so hard to master that
only the most brilliant and fearless could come close to practicing it. Homo
Gumbogi, however, practiced this special talent as easily as he smelled the
air. Maata foof involved being at once a lion and a lamb, a lion when no
danger is around and a lamb when the need arises. It demanded a nimble state
of mind and was often used as a survival technique by the more gifted among
our common townsfolk. The very few who could practice this ancient and
dynamic art were greatly admired. Homo Gumbogi was among the very few
bigwigs in our little town who knew that if you were a master of maata foof,
there was no reason why you should not show the whole big wide world what
you were capable of.
So it was that our pious Homo Gumbogi, alias Ratahal, his bright eyes
sparkling with a knowing light, would don his favorite tails and ties and
his hippo-hide boots, his unrivalled pen stuck to his breast pocket, and
proudly strut in our little town, watching out for boastful dwarfs who
pretended to be tall or just posing for all the eager cameras rooting to get
a snap of the rare gem. And when his elegant picture came out, our common
townsfolk were always amazed at how educated the wise guy looked. Even more
than in real life! His face would shine like an oily moon, and there would
be a grave and distant look in his eyes, not a hint of a smile on his
serious lips, and more than a little air of pride and – no, not arrogance –
in his generous nostrils. Homo Gumbogi would hang a copy of this special
picture in all the major streets of our little town, and our common
townsfolk would stop by and stare and marvel at the great spectacle. And
then when Homo Gumbogi sailed proudly by and saw how our common townsfolk
were staring at him, he would give them his maata foof smile, displaying a
row of real brown teeth, and saying “yeah, that’s maata foof men. It’s all a
matter of human lies and the rule of now. No yohal.”
Last but by no means the least, there were, in our little town, our
sophisticated group of lesser smarties. There were Largehead Chickenbrain,
Reyjef Tutiham, Lerrbot Ledemhel, Hamhami Mbedami, and the great Munwakh
Nyaakahel who, to the most utter amazement of our common townsfolk, proved
that he was conversant with each and every topic on the face of the earth,
even those he had never been schooled in. Quick to learn and quick to
assimilate, Munwakh Nyaakahel was quick to read and quick to write. Quick to
see just what was wrong and what was right in every move and step, every
word and sigh within the four corners of our little town. That was why Homo
Nyaakahel was so greatly loved and honored and considered a special
celebrity in our little town. That was why he and some of our lesser
smarties were dubbed the ‘Proper Ones’, for truly speaking, no one could
challenge them in the difficult art of telling right from wrong and in
mapping out specific routes and patterns that must be strictly followed by
the less endowed folks of our little town. To distinguish themselves from
the less endowed among our common townsfolk, these our prominent word-bags
and airy folks always wore their coats inside-out and would not run from
either sun or rain. So that even if a mighty rainstorm found them walking at
a certain pace, they would neither hasten their pace nor run for shelter.
They dared the very heavenly elements themselves! They were the
never-say-nevers, the gallant mbokaharrs of our little town!!! And if you
wondered why they would not take shelter, any one of them could tell you
yeah, no yohal, no yohal, echoing our gallant Gisyeb Gumbogi of the oily
face, alias Ratahal Sortisoof.
_________________________________________________________________
Express yourself instantly with MSN Messenger! Download today it's FREE!
http://messenger.msn.click-url.com/go/onm00200471ave/direct/01/
¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤
To unsubscribe/subscribe or view archives of postings, go to the Gambia-L Web interface
at: http://listserv.icors.org/archives/gambia-l.html
To Search in the Gambia-L archives, go to: http://listserv.icors.org/SCRIPTS/WA-ICORS.EXE?S1=gambia-l
To contact the List Management, please send an e-mail to:
[log in to unmask]
¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤
|