Mo, there was indeed a kind of abusive and unmerited punishment at Armitage. 
Some of us were angry and rebellious. The catch though, was that every Green 
Leaf looked forward to the day when they would be councillors or senior 
students in order to enjoy all the good and forbidden fruits of Armitage 
life, and there were a lot of these. I remember during my fisrt term at 
Armitage, I had the audacity to stand up during an event at the Assembly 
Hall at which the declining level of student intake at Armitage was being 
discussed. I told a shocked student council that bullying by councillors was 
one reason why students were avoiding Armitage. At the end of the program as 
I was going back to my dormitory, I was surrounded by a group of angry 
councillors who demanded to know who I thought I was. Characteristically, I 
said to hell with them all and they promised to get me. During my first two 
years at Armitage, I stuck fast to the school rules and frustrated the 
witch-hunting that was unleased against me. I thus escaped all but mass 
punishment and when these were declared, I readily complied. Armitage had a 
reputation for being the haven and breaking-point for strong-headed students 
- and that reputation was very well deserved.

But on the whole, life at Armitage was great fun. Escaping the penetrating 
gaze of our parents and elders at home and doing as we pleased was a great 
thrill that no ex-Armitage student will easily forget. At Armitage, so long 
as you passed your exams, you could expect to enjoy both the legal and 
forbidden fruits of boarding life. We also had a well-run democratic system 
in terms of electing councillors - Seyfo, Deputy Seyfo, Mosque Committee 
Members, Alkalolu for the various Kundas, Kitchen Committee Members, a 
School Sergeant responsible for sounding the gong and ringing the bell, and 
several other posts the filling of which was preceded by weeks of 
campaigning and a night of speeches by the nominated and confirmed 
candidates. So you left Armitage having a taste of representative democracy. 
Indeed, one can never enumerate the joys of Armitage life in those days, and 
they far outweigh the woes, perhaps the worst two of which were edible fat 
and the mosquitoes. Thanks for inspiring me to remember even more of 
Armitage. And please watch the kanyaa!!

Baba


>From: Mo Baldeh <[log in to unmask]>
>Reply-To: The Gambia and related-issues mailing list              
><[log in to unmask]>
>To: [log in to unmask]
>Subject: Re: [>-<] Armitage Revisited
>Date: Fri, 21 Sep 2007 12:57:37 -0700
>
>Baba,
>
>   Your reminiscences of student life at Armitage highlight the general 
>challenges of boarding school. The abusive behavior of some senior students 
>and the regimented life-style aggravated by an omnipresent and overly 
>controlling school authority must have influenced the decision of certain 
>parents who may have otherwise sent their children to the institution.
>
>   I used to listen to my sister narrate harrowing tales of punishment for 
>the smallest infraction, and the excessive eating of mudaake or kanyaa by 
>some. (Baba, I’m sorry I know this delicacy is irresistible to Jallows and 
>we still have a few more hours to go before sunset).
>
>   For a school that has produced some of the finest minds in our country, 
>I wonder where Armitage should have drawn the fine line between what could 
>be considered abusive behavior and the upkeep of discipline.
>
>   The punishments notwithstanding, the humorous pranks and the dare-devil 
>escapades would have made any youth jealous of your few moments of stolen 
>freedom.
>
>   Ajaaraama!
>
>   Momodou.
>
>
>Baba Galleh Jallow <[log in to unmask]> wrote:  [ This e-mail is posted to 
>Gambia|Post e-Gathering by "Baba Galleh Jallow" ]
>
>
>Armitage Revisited
>
>By Baba Galleh Jallow
>
>I sat for a long time looking at the notice before me. Armitage was 70.
>There was going to be a great reunion of ex-students at the school grounds
>that weekend. There has been a program on TV and a notice in the papers
>heralding the event. The Armitage Ex-Students Association had been having a
>series of meetings, which I could not attend. Good old Armitage, the 
>ancient
>school for the sons of chiefs; Armitage of the mystic airs and incessant
>bird songs; Armitage of the musical nights and Saturday inspections! How I
>wished I could be there that weekend to relieve the sweet memories of life
>at Fuladu Kunda, the famous Hamlin!
>
>My heart cried for Armitage, that melting pot of growing spirits in whose
>bubbling bowels my character was formed, my life spiced with the salt of
>beautiful experiences. My heart cried for Armitage of the silent airs and
>the cool shades, for the tender walls of Grey Kunda, Saloum Kunda, Niani
>Kunda, Girls’ Dormitory, the chiming of the famous gong calling us to
>prayers, to the dining hall, to assembly, to the unfailing roll call at the
>mosque or announcing lights out. How I wish I could stand and bend down and
>prostrate again on the floor of that beautiful small mosque behind the
>physics and chemistry labs! How I wish I could, once again, listen to the
>roll call of the Mosque Committee Member every Friday, before marching into
>town for the congregational prayers. I remember how I never missed mosque
>and how I liked preaching upstage. I remember one night in the Assembly
>hall, how one boy went upstage and asked me why I liked preaching so much.
>
>My heart cried at the sweet memories of my famous Nigerian classmate, 
>Yunusa
>Lawal, whom we called Baba Jigida. There was no animal sound Yunusa could
>not imitate. When he went upstage, he would expertly respond to the floor’s
>requests for dog! horse! chicken! cat Yunusa cat! Ay Yunusa Chinese! Yunusa
>Indian! And Yunusa would make funny sounds imitating these animals and
>languages. And how we laughed and clapped! Baba Jigida! Baba Jigida! we
>would shout and Yunusa would plunge into his favorite show, an agile and
>aggressive show of karatemanship accompanied by shrill cries of yaach!
>tassum! tassum! From the floor we shouted Yunusa Iron fist! Eagle Claw! Ey
>Yunusa Monkey style! Yunusa Tiger Paw! Ey deadly kick! And Yunusa would
>expertly throw his fists and swing his legs and roll on the floor and 
>loudly
>shout, imitating Kung Fu and Shaolin martial arts masters. Outside the 
>hall,
>Yunusa liked challenging everyone to a karate contest. One day I
>intentionally dealt him such a heavy blow on the back that he asked me
>whether I was playing. That was the last time he challenged me and anytime 
>I
>saw him and sanni paar, Yunusa would say ah Baba! I am tired and walk away
>or cleverly talk of other things.
>
>A biting nostalgia gripped my heart as memories of Bahind, where we used to
>go late at night or in early mornings to heat our rice run through my mind
>like blades of pain. I heard the sizzling of the cold rice as it heated up
>and the smell of edible fat wafted through my nostrils. God! How I hated
>Edible Fat! How I complained every time the powerful smell of melting 
>Edible
>Fat was carried from the kitchen and transported through the windows of our
>classrooms! I remember lights-out when only the councilors and a few 
>favored
>junior boys who were generous with their dumpeh and their futo and mudaake
>were allowed outside. I remember the hash clanging of the metal bar against
>the head of my donkey bed, waking me up for dawn prayers. All Muslims went
>for dawn prayers because there was always a roll call and the prospect of
>some mountainous punishment like cleaning the toilets, the dining hall, or
>scrubbing a whole block till it shone and would not stain even a tissue
>paper! Christians had to attend mass every Sunday!
>
>Nostalgic memories of musical night came drifting across the screen of my
>mind and pulled so hard at the strings of my heart. The general excitement
>on campus, the freedom in the air, the blaring music, the shouts, the
>clapping and the shuffling of dancing feet wrapped me up like an enchanted
>mist and transported me back to Armitage, my Armitage. Memories of Jungle
>rose through my heart like a resurrected forest. It was over the fence and
>via Jungle that we made our illegal night escapades into town. The penalty
>was expulsion if found in Jungle and definite three weeks suspension if
>caught in town. But all the same, we jumped over the fence and stole out to
>town under cover of darkness, through Mansuanka kunda to buy cigarettes or
>enjoy some meal at a friend’s house. There were outings on Wednesday
>afternoons when we were all free to go into town – in uniform of course – 
>to
>do whatever we wanted. If you were caught without a uniform, three weeks
>suspension – and come back with your parents to suffer some 6 to 12 lashes
>and possibly clean the assembly hall or toilets!
>
>I remember when one day, the strict Mr. Pa Diouf of Modern Maths fame 
>caught
>me smoking in the dormitory. About six of us were smoking in my corner, but
>I had the misfortune of just taking the cigarette from one of the boys when
>I heard a voice at my window say “give it to me, give it to me.” The other
>boys melted into the darkness and I was left holding the offensive butt
>which I reluctantly handed over to Mr. Diouf. What a fear-filled and
>sleepless night that was! Fortunately, our strict principal, the late Mr.
>Abdoulie Ceesay, alias Mborr, was not in town and the vice principal, Njie
>Physics, citing my good record, gave me only one week’s suspension. I dared
>not go home to my village, of course. My father would kill me! Somehow, I
>managed to stay around town and after the longest week of my life, forged 
>an
>elder brother to act as my parent and was accepted back with stern 
>warnings.
>“You are very lucky,” Mborr said to me. “If I was here you’ll go for three
>weeks.” That would have been terrible, for I had already missed my first
>paper in the end of term exams… One other day, when I was Deputy Seyfo, I
>just turned a corner after an illegal escapade into town when I came face 
>to
>face with Mborr’s dreaded land rover. I dashed behind a wall, but not 
>before
>Mborr spotted me with his keen eyes. The next day, Mborr called me and said
>“Seyfo, lawmakers should not be lawbreakers.” “Yes sir,” I replied and he
>asked me to go. I have never forgotten those memorable words.
>
>I remember all those beautiful places we used to go for studies. I was
>unused to studying in the library and chose instead to spending the
>afternoons reading in the surrounding bushes or at riverside even though
>here too, was strictly out of bounds. There were such places as first
>irrigation, second irrigation, and Oyoko clan where my friend Mass Jobe and
>I used to study, and when we had money, prepared clandestine attaya. Attaya
>was banned on campus at the pain of expulsion because charcoal used to be
>untidily littered everywhere. When daredevils like Kills and others stole
>sheep or goats, riverside was where they took it for roasting and feasting.
>
>I remember how Mborr began every address at assembly with a Latin 
>quotation.
>How Yunusa made us laugh when he mimicked Mborr with fabricated Latin
>phrases! Every Latin phrase expressed a moral story on which the principal
>would base his address, more often than not, centering on the fact that 
>some
>of us were doing this thing or that, and that if ever we got caught…. But
>while we feared the terrible prospect of getting caught and facing Mborr, 
>we
>nevertheless sneaked into town and swam in the river and prepared attaya in
>the bushes and smoked in the dormitory. And there were always those wizards
>who smelled cigarette smoke from amazing distances and came scouting in the
>dark for the source of the enchanting smell. Even a single pull was enough!
>One cigarette served as many as ten people! There were some boys who were 
>so
>crazy as to jump over the wall and sneak into Girl’s Dormitory which was
>strictly out of bounds for all boys except prefects on Inspection days!
>
>How so very sweet and innocent those days were! Those days when we walked 
>or
>ran to End of Island in search if sideme and baobab fruits! Those days of
>the numerous mosquitoes and creamy pap! Those days of Mba Khaddy with her
>delicious bread and liver, Mam Mojel, that blind old woman who lived alone
>in a dilapidated hut by the roadside! Those days of mischief-making when I
>perfected the art of mockery. I had a near fight with Njagga Khan whom I
>persisted in calling him Oh ye who believe! Njagga hated IRK (Islamic
>studies) and so did not like me calling him Oh ye! I used to laugh so much
>at Baba Karamo, the big boy who, at a false alarm that Mr. King was coming,
>dashed under the bed and came out looking so funny. How I laughed when
>Ousainou John found a small tortoise and brought it to our dormitory,
>keeping it in a big tomato tin half-filled with wet mud. Mbonaat! I would
>shriek after lights-out and the entire room would burst out laughing. Ous
>would loudly threaten saying, “Yow Galleh, dang ma paree yab teddu. Legi 
>tey
>ma nyuss la!” and I would say I’m sorry. Every morning, I would go to Ous’
>bedside and seriously ask “Ous naka Mbonaat bi…”
>
>I remember my old school and classmates, Agama Agama, Bambo Daa, Zim, Baba
>Jigida, Mama Ibeji, Angel, Sana Blood, Clear, Pussy Cat, Carlos Complex,
>Paco Girl, Crafty Ben, Kim II Sung, Jesus Christ, Iry Man, Man Mountain, 
>Lux
>Baba, the great mathematician. Almost everybody at Armitage had a nickname!
>I hear the defiant voice of Seyfo Ndongo Sillah saying “If you think you 
>are
>brave, come and attack me” when he imposed mass punishment at the Assembly
>or Dining Hall. At Armitage during debates and symposiums, if one student
>made some noise, the entire student body was asked to kneel down; and God
>help those who refused to obey, however big he was. Big boys who came to
>Armitage were still Green Leaves and could be punished for no reason at all
>by the smallest of prefects. At Armitage, the rule was always OBEY AND
>COMPLAIN!
>
>I hear the laughter that greeted Angel’s announcement one day at the 
>dinning
>hall that all those without teas should raise their hands …. Everyone
>thought teas was wrong English and henceforth, whenever Angel went upstage,
>we all would repeatedly shout teas! teas! Often, we all ended up on our
>knees on the dinning hall floor…sometimes with our hands up, our eyes shut,
>our mouths wide open! Only at Armitage!
>
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