Part 1
Having ‘naturalized’ in the city, we present the compelling story of one man who isn’t impress with what has happened to his village of nativity, yet his memories of the village is haunting him.
By Mballowbannah
Rural urban migration has cost Fulabantang village a lot in terms of education, culture and youth activities. Many years ago Fulabantang, famous for its cultural activities mainly wrestling and the only boarding school within the surrounding apart from Armitage. Although partly settled in Tanjeh, Kombo South, there are certain distinct things that are in Fulabantang I cannot find in Tanjeh. The Banta Chekeyel, Banta Sareh and Ourdeh and off course Kertordeh (a traditional dining hall surrounded with either stones or wood locks)
Banta Chekeyel: In the winter of 1986, almost all the youth of the Village and some other hamlets were robbed off from their mothers by renowned Bora Mballow who was a Circumciser. Borra my biological father disappeared in the early hours of that day. I was taken to task not to go too far because I should meet a certain uncle who is coming from Banjul. Off we were all carried away to the bush under a big tree called Banta Chekeyel. We were all paraded and starting from the ALKALO Abdoulie Janneh Dem, followed by the others. What I heard was laughter and cries from the Alkali’s end but not him certainly. When he came to me, my father looked at me and for the first time during his career as a circumciser for 23 yrs, made two attempts to cut the relevant part off and spiritually, pretended to have buried it beneath his right foot and proceeded to others. From there we were all given something spicy and bitter called in fula Labu[1] to eat. Then we were swiftly whisked to a local house called Turdu[2] [i]where we were confined for more than a month. Inside the Turdu, we also sleep in order of seniority, the Alkalo first followed by the Imams son and then on. Also inside the Turdu, there was a big wood where we are supposed to clean our hands with for a period of one month by rubbing our hands on it to clean them. During this month, we were kept to behave like adults and learn staying from our mothers for a while. We were first taught a song by Amadou Ngonyo who was the chief caretaker and followed by those who take care of us called Selbeh’s. ``Ndugu yooo ndugu wellee welleee chaayooo chaaawelleee chaa, Ndugu sii man bawdii mbellaa hattaa dii lengii nguma; aadiii nyammi kau adii nyamii`` that is the song sang for welcoming food escorted by one of the selbeh’s.
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Mballow, this is the most compelling story I have read about a Gambian background. You know, even though I am from the north as opposed to your south of the River Gambia, we both share similar Pulaar heritages and it's amazing how our national reservoir of beautiful traditions helps us transcend the iquivocation of the modern realm! Keep writing. Apologies, but I think you should try some luck in writing. You are gifted. I love the story, and I think you should continue. These are stories our children should know about. By the way, I already have a manuscript of over 300 pages of my childhood written. But I cannot publish that yet because I want my current writing to preceed that. So let's do this for our nex generations.
ReplyDeleteOmar 'Ida' Bah
Well, I think you are absolutely right, there is no doubt about it - Mballow could be the next Fodeh Baldeh of Fulabantang. For your information, he has already published a tiny book about his humble beginnings thanks to Barbara... Unfortunately I found the book gathering dust in his car.
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