From it's source in the Futa Jalon highlands in northern Guinea to where it
empties into the Atlantic at the estuary, The River Gambia has epitomised the
very essence of the people that live on it's banks. Nowhere is that
illustration more vivid than in the island of Georgetown  where every facet
of life has one thing or the other to do with this glorious body of water.
From the begining it was the critical component of the town's economy
providing year round source of fresh water that for decades sustained a
highly successful agricultural sector. Commerce also flourished primarily
because the river provided an inexpensive tranportation route  through which
goods could be brought or transhiped either by barge or ferry. I remember
being at the wharf   when big barges would anchor as the goods for Ellie
Milky by  then the most powerful business man in town were unloaded . Us kids
would jockey for the priviledge of pushing the new bikes to the main store if
they were part of the consignment. The river also provided a fairly robust
fishing enterprise  that greatly complimented our diets. For some reason the
occupational fishermen tended to be non natives mostly nothern senegalese.
They set out to fish in the evenings and would often stay overnight and by
dawn they would set  their catch on the "beteng' . I also noticed that while
women are generally responsible for the food and it's economics , in
Georgetown it is the men who mostly buy the fish at the fish stall. I later
realised it had something to do with timing. Since the fishermen came back
early in the morning, most male heads of household just proceed to the fish
stand right after morning prayers when the prospects are good for a favorable
deal.

The river also provides an important form of recreation. Learning how to swim
is a rite of passage for every kid . Over the years different sections along
the river bank has self segregated to accomodate different sectors of the
society. The kids had their own section, as did the teenagers , females and
male adults. There were sections where people couldn't bathe because they
were the designated areas for those who fetched their drinking water from the
river out of preference over the tap water that was readily available. In the
rainy season when the river level increases , the elders would somehow
attempt to curb to much waddling into the water  by the kids. They would
sometimes have the police enforce a time limit of the evening swims or they
would spread word that some fisherman has seen what he was sure was a "guest"
crocodile. The implication being that guest crocodiles are much more vicious
than ones that maybe native. Well ...like any overused threat it ultimately
lost it's luster and was no more a deterrent. I once had a friend remark to
me that a crocodiles' home was in the river!
Beyond the swimming i really enjoyed the recreational fishing especially at
the  edge of the main wharf in the evening. The sunset is often spectacular
from that view as one looks at the contours of the meandering waves and
varieties  of beautiful birds fly close to the mangrove swamps that hug the
river banks. In the horizon you can often spot the occasional fisherman
paddling his canoe as if he is making a rendez-vous with the birds flying in
his direction. I also liked to hang out at the ferry terminal especially on
weekends. I would watch as people played draft in between trips to the other
bank under the large tree. We would listen to football game commentaries over
the radio with Saul Njie and somehow pick sides on teams duking it out all
the way in Banjul. I learnt a lot from the terminal. It was my first window
into how government entities are to a large extent inefficient and prone to
corruption . They had way too many people doing essentially what three people
could do. The revenue collection and accounting was dismal with very frayed
supervision.

While Ellie Milky has fled to the much more condusive business enviroment of
Wellington Street in Banjul, and the humming sounds of power tillers and
irrigation pumps that once made the muddy plots blossom in a sea of green
have laid silent and given way to patches of reddish grass , and the small
family gardens that once  dotted the river banks of the island and supplied
plenty of vegetables have shuttered because there is no one to to take over,
I take comfort in the notion that the river, our river would as it has over
the centuries  lay in wait and ready to nourish the stomachs and soul of the
beleaguered people of Georgetown.

Karamba

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