Essays

By the window, I sit inside the Tim Hortons coffee shop, trying to play catch-up with my last week's Sunday copy of The New York Times and chatting with friends online.

The German liberal philosopher, Immanuel Kant, once wrote: “The more things fill the mind with ever new and increasing wonder and awe, the more seriously reflection concentrates on them; the starry heaven above me and the moral law within me.” One night this week, on the quiet of my celibate bed, a bird came to me in my dreams, singing a strange song:

Warning! This piece just might incriminate me!

I wrote a eulogy once and it was for my grandmother, the late Alice Carr. It is a weird truth that I hate funerals – even as I learn that no one actually likes them. It is not the idea of death that so scares me but rather the reaction of those still alive on their loss.

Before the Bulundala I appeared. The night before was long, after the town crier's announcement. The leader of Katanga has accused me of spreading false news. I, the loyal messenger with no loyalty! He cussed me as a liar and an imposter.

So, I took a well-deserved break from my weekly RBN and for good reason; my previous RBN essay “Religious Camouflage” was doing enough damage.

Before the Bulundala I appeared. The night before was long, after the town crier's announcement. The leader of Katanga has accused me of spreading false news. I, the loyal messenger with no loyalty! He cussed me as a liar and an imposter.

The anj belongs to no one, because the anj belongs to everyone. Each party plays their part in the ritual, but the ritual is greater than all involved in it. There will be an anj as long as there are people to provide and prepare and consume, as long as people walk these lands of Jollof and drink of her waters.

I cannot remember the first time I watched a video of Dr Zakir Naik but I know I was a student of engineering studying the greatest minds of our field; from Archimedes to Newton. When I first watched him it wasn't out of religious curiosity but out of a need to study the oratory strengths of the world's greatest public speakers.

In the 85th year of her life Merr Sally Cham came at last to a complete understanding of the anj, the daily lunch of rice and sauce that she had spent the greater part of her life preparing, first in her father's house and then in her husband's...

Red Black nonsense was an idea to start a social commentary column on the irregularities of our society. However, the essays have not always been well received by the good readers of the standard or balafong.com (where it all began). I had discovered long ago that my 'purpose' has never really been to please the people of our world but rather to 'speak my mind'. It's clear that I am a part of the 'Gambian Problem' which is 'Gambia No Problem'.

“Tears of joy seeped out of his eyes, knowing that mine are always full to the brim, I did not even realise how I tried to control myself, not to...” The story was quite emotional, heart-rending.