By Momodou Malcolm Jallow
Gambian-born Swedish member of Parliament
Solo Sandeng did not die for this. He did not face torture and death at the hands of Yahya Jammeh’s brutal regime so that the very government born from his martyrdom could betray everything he fought for. He did not give his life demanding electoral reform, justice, and dignity—only for the Barrow administration to turn its back on those ideals with the same arrogance and contempt as the dictatorship we removed.
Solo’s sacrifice was the spark. His brutal killing in April 2016, for leading a peaceful protest demanding electoral reforms, ignited a nationwide uprising. But it was the diaspora’s thunder—from Stockholm to Atlanta, Berlin to London—that turned that spark into a wildfire of resistance that could no longer be contained.
And now, the very people who owe their position to that resistance have chosen betrayal over gratitude.
There is perhaps no clearer proof of this betrayal than the government’s deliberate denial of the Gambian diaspora’s constitutional right to vote.
Let’s be clear: this is not just a matter of administrative delay. This is not a technical glitch. This is not poor planning.
This is sabotage. A calculated, coordinated betrayal.
Despite the Supreme Court ruling in 2021 that affirmed the diaspora’s full and equal right to vote in all elections—not just presidential—the Barrow government, through its allies in the National Assembly, Attorney general and so-called advisers, has done everything in its power to block, delay, distort and deceive.
They misled the people.
The Attorney General stood before the nation and twisted the constitutional provisions despite the court’s clear and binding declaration.
They weaponised parliament.
Through coordinated actions by pro-Barrow MPs, they deliberately stripped the electoral reform bills of provisions that would allow diaspora voting in legislative and local government elections.
They silenced dissent.
Rather than engage the diaspora or honour the promises made during the fight to oust Jammeh, the government has treated diaspora voices as a threat—because they know a politically engaged diaspora would hold them accountable.
But make no mistake: the diaspora is not just a passive observer. The diaspora was the lifeblood of the resistance. The diaspora was the financial engine, the international mouthpiece, the unrelenting force that kept the world watching when Jammeh tried to cling to power.
And now? That same diaspora is being told to shut up and send remittances.
From Martyrdom to Manipulation
Solo Sandeng died demanding electoral justice. The diaspora rose up demanding democracy. Thousands marched, lobbied, protested, sacrificed their time, their money, and in many cases their safety—believing that a new Gambia was possible.
Barrow made himself the symbol of that hope. Today, he is the embodiment of betrayal.
What kind of government ascends to power on the shoulders of martyrs, then uses its legal machinery to trample on the very rights they died for? What kind of President benefits from diaspora mobilisation, then turns around and orchestrates a national campaign to silence them?
This isn’t just incompetence. It’s a deliberate betrayal of the very soul of our democratic struggle.
Broken promises, stolen legacy
Barrow promised:
· Electoral reform.
· Constitutional reform.
· Presidential term limits.
· A new Gambia that respected justice, truth, and human dignity.
What we got instead:
Delays, deception, and dysfunction.
· A dismantled draft constitution.
· A President who seeks to cling to power, while muzzling the diaspora, and running from reform.
We will not be silent
This is not just about voting rights. It’s about the soul of the republic. It’s about whether blood, sacrifice, and justice still mean something in The Gambia.
To the Barrow government, we say this:
You do not get to rewrite history.
You do not get to ride the wave of the people’s revolution and then drown them in betrayal.
You do not get to use Solo Sandeng’s name while spitting on his legacy.
You do not get to praise the diaspora while denying them their vote.
We demand full, immediate, and unconditional implementation of electoral reform. We demand constitutional justice. We demand diaspora inclusion. We demand that Solo Sandeng’s name is not just honored in eulogy—but in action.
The time is now
This generation did not fight tyranny just to inherit a new one. The diaspora did not rise for Jammeh to fall, only for Barrow to replicate his regime’s contempt. Solo Sandeng did not die for another strongman to emerge with a softer voice and sharper betrayal.
If the government continues to obstruct reform and suppress the diaspora, then let it be known: We will rise again. Louder. Stronger. United.
Our memory is long. Our resolve is deeper. Our movement is not finished. And we will not be silenced.
