Gerry is a friend who has never been to Africa but as a retired headmaster of a large school in Scotland he wanted to see first hand what First Aid 4 Gambia was doing. This is his review of his week in Gambia.

“Saturday 27th Feb 7.00 am – dark and bitterly cold leaving Glasgow. Sunday 1st March 8.00 am – brilliant sunshine – temperature already approaching 70 – going for freshly baked bread from the bakery – a sandy road in Kololi – red, orange, and yellow bougainvillea flowers draping the walls of the compounds – small children already up and about, local women in multicoloured dresses walking sedately along the road with pots on their heads. This was my first daylight impression of The Gambia, having arrived the previous evening after a 3000 plus mile flight directly South, but an impression which belied the poverty I was about to experience. On the west of the bulge of Africa, Gambia, a small country of one and a half million people, Mandinka, Wollof and Fula and with only tourism and peanuts to drive its economy, is in need of all the aid it can get. Kunta Kinte Street was far removed from the tourist area and even further from the real Gambia. Yet on my first morning, my every greeting was returned with a smile, I was to find that its reputation as the Smiling Coast was well justified.

When I first heard of the project and the plan to invite the assistance of volunteers, I was interested immediately. In my 70′s and never having been anywhere on the Dark Continent, the opportunity was too good to miss. So what, if I knew nothing of First Aid, I had been teaching all my working life, visiting schools would be fascinating and the chance to see and experience life in a country so different in culture, religion, climate and scenery, was too good to miss, especially as I would be with the “real” people and with the opportunity to leave the “tourist trail”.

I was awakened on my first morning from the best night’s sleep in a long time, under the whirling fan and mosquito net, to the crowing of cockrels at 5am and then as I had fallen asleep again to the call to prayers from the local mosque which confirmed this was different. A lovely warm shower and breakfast of fresh fruits, warm bread (tapalapa), and butter and cheese – I was ready for action. Those big birds by the way circling overhead like buzzards are vultures.

A 5 minute taxi ride took us to the tourist area, where changeing money at 40 Dalasi to the pound, and no bills larger than 100, meant that changing £100 gave me a large wad of notes to divide between 2 pockets. Bustling with tourists and colourful locals, we had a relaxing day in the brilliant sunshine, feeding the vultures at Senegambia Hotel, and visiting the crocodile reserve at Kachically.

Our driver Liney took us through a small museum where local customs, culture and history were described. On the way there we passed through the poorest part of the built up area where poverty was rife and open sewers etc were the norm. An evening visit to Baku fish market while the fish were being landed let me witness Fiona’s bargaining skills, she bought butterfish for our dinner – they won’t grow rich selling to Fiona!!

Tuesday was a “working” day. Fiona had already visited Saloum Nursery in Nema Kunku village to deliver the First Aid supplies and had arranged a return visit to train the teachers and others up to a max of 8 people in its use. The course would range from treatment of minor injuries, burns and choking through to emergency resuscitation.

Met at the school by the head teacher, Mariamne and her 3 teachers with smiles, bobbing, bowing and much shaking of hands, only outdone by the excitement of the 180 children at the arrival of the “toubabs – minty” (white skins – sweeties). Mariamne had prepared well for the visit with parents to look after the children while she, 3 teachers and 4 adults, including the “head lady” of the village were to receive the instruction. Mariamne, a tall, handsome, imposing woman, was rightfully proud as she showed us round her 3 rooms, which, by UK standards, were sparsely furnished and devoid of even the most basic equipment. This contrasted with the lesson on the faded, cracked blackboard for 5/6 year olds, in English, on “adverbs”. It was so obvious that what they lacked in materials they made up for in enthusiasm and desire to learn, The mantra of a former British politician came to mind – “education, education, education” – these people meant it.

Fiona’s upbringing in Nigeria was soon obvious as she introduced herself and encouraged them to talk about themselves and their families, with much coyness and laughter. As I introduced myself briefly, I felt the best I could tell them about me was that I too knew “hee-haw” about first aid and was one of 8 children.

With 4 sessions to deliver between 9 and 4pm Fiona was in for a strenuous day, but was off to a great start in an atmosphere of genuine interest and enthusiasm. It was soon obvious how keen they were, delighting in role play, showing a great friendliness and sense of fun. Not knowing much about the subject I could only help in demonstrations at this stage but would be prepared for another day. I did pay my way, mind you, giving them a laugh at my inadequacies !

However, this being Gambia, the day was not without surprises. The occasional intrusion of a small child wandering in to be howked unceremoniously out by a chasing parent – the translations by Mariamne for the “Head Lady” in which a 15 second sentence in English metamorphosed in to a 90 second monologue in Wolof – a latecomer being lambasted by Mariamne in front of all for at leat 2 minutes – were only a few. Ten minutes in to the 3rd session, after the break for prayers, biscuits and local fruit juice arrived. This was followed 10 minutes later by huge platters of rice and fish, each with enough for 6……….. it was delicious, but played havoc with Fiona’s timings. (Although on GMT, this was Gambia Maybe Time to the locals)

However, the course was eventually completed successfully, certificates awarded, farewell speeches made and we drove off into the chaos of sandy roads, ramshackle taxis and trafic cops to the shouts and waves of adults and children. A day to remember !!

Although there was no shortage of fascinating visits to make in the tourist area, including various markets, fantastic beaches and James Island of “Roots” fame, I chose to spend my time on this visit away from the beaten track. Liney as guide and driver in his old but reliable Samurai 4×4 Jeep was the perfect guide (at a cost of no more than £15 for the day) allowed me to have several days travelling down the coast calling in at the villages of Ghanatown and Tanji, where the traditional fishing boats (pirogues) rode at anchor in the surf, whilst locals worked away at boat building, repairing nets, gutting, salting, packing and smoking fish (reminding me of our own fishing ports of 80 years ago).We stopped for several hours at Paradise Beach at Sangyang, an ornithologist’s dream, where we enjoyed a local meal of bronchop(?) – spiced smoked fish and salad.

However, the highlight for me was driving into the hinterland along the tracks through the villages and compounds, seeing at first hand the locl people at work (or not) and especially the children. The were all so very poor but could be satisfied by so little and laugh at little things.

I had many experiences visiting other schools from a dark sunless outhouse with dirt floor, faded blackboard, chalk and broken chairs to relatively well funded compounds where 6 year olds were well ahead of ours in English. A visit to a child naming ceremony let me meet an extended Muslim family, while a couple of hours with some of the menfolk shooting the breeze as they brewed up their green tea let me understand how they viewed the world around them.

I had a fascinating week, well cared for, well fed and watered, well travelled, intrigued by the scenery, customs and way of life of the local people and at the same time quite humbled at how so little to us could mean so much to them. In the work of First Aid 4 Gambia, I saw how something we take for granted could affect the wellbeing of so many by so much, and hope that they can continue to spread their work, especially into the even poorer areas in the back country. I will go back and next time I will take my wife, Pat, with me.”
Gerry Moncrieff
12th March 2010