My name is Gambia. I am a tiny speck of land nestled in the heartland of Senegal and the mouth of my river emptying its riches on the mighty Atlantic. I am often regarded as the thorn that pricks the ass of my elder brother, Senegal. My journey in life has been eventful and mostly filled with horrors of the slave trade, colonial dominance and self inflicted wounds. I have undergone the transformation and decolonization of my psyche from colonial dominance and the imposition of self pride has been the consequential effect of this process. My offsprings are called Gambians and being a Gambian entails certain prerequisites that affirms ones Gambian-ness. First, one has to believe in me and that constitute an unreserved love, duty and honor to me. Secondly, one has to accept my ethnic diversity which has been my weakness during colonial rule but I have reoriented it to be a strength in post colonial Gambia. Thirdly, I have evolved considerably over the years and it has been a journey filled with tribulation, disappointment and self inflicted wounds of hate and despair. In this journey, I devised a philosophy called GAMBIANIZATION. This philosophy embraces everything that positively projects my image and serves my interest (socially, politically and economically). I need my own role models, my own professional cadre (doctors, judges, engineers etc), my own entertainers and business men. Gone are the days that I allow outsiders to loot, control my economic sphere or impose economic dominance on my kin and kindred. My children (Gambians) are the lot I will choose from for any public or private procurement. My children are each others keeper. Stealing from me tantamount to disinheriting ones self. One CANNOT call his/herself a Gambian if you cannot subscribe to my worldview. The choice is yours, I rather be the only Gambian, than have good for nothing children who bicker, steal from me or make me look bad in the eyes of the world. I am Gambia the land that radiates its smile on the face of Africa as the sun rises over the flat plains of my majestic river and kisses the Golden sunset as it fades away in the distant horizons across the warm calm waters of the mighty Atlantic. I am proud to be GAMBIA. One people under the elongated banks of my majestic river that meanders through Bintang Bolong, Sami Bolong, Sofa Nyama, Alayhinaa Bolong, Bao Bolong, Tendaba, Balengho, Tumani Tenda, Juffureh, Sitaa Joheh, Sita Nunku, Albadarr, Tankularr and all the way to the foothills of the Futa Njallon where I find my source. My children why art thou forsaken me? I have over generations sired many good sons and daughters who in one way or another contributed immensely in the propagation of my ideals and yet they have vanished in oblivion. Gratitude and hospitality has been the hallmark of my existence and of late my children have morphed into ungrateful zombies that are unbecoming of Gambia. I implore on my sons and daughters to have a national holiday called "Heroes Day" to celebrate my proud sons and daughters who relentlessly worked hard in pursuit of a better life and livelihood for mother Gambia. These include, great teachers, politicians, historians, sports men/women and the common man who believed in my ideals. I raised you to be better than what you have become. Take a pause and think hard what it entails to be a GAMBIAN. We are one for all and all for one.
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