By Abdoulie Mam Njie
(retired permanent secretary)
There is a phrase Gambians use often — half-joking, half in despair: “Gambians don’t support their own.” Whether in the village or in Banjul, in politics or the office, among professionals or in the diaspora, this saying reflects a painful truth. We witness it when a young entrepreneur’s efforts are dismissed with envy. We see it when a returning diaspora professional is labelled as proud or “feeling better”. And we feel it when someone climbs the ladder of success — only to be dragged down by the very people they once inspired.
This is what many call the crab syndrome: like crabs in a bucket, when one tries to rise, others pull it back down. No one escapes, and all remain trapped. In The Gambia, this metaphor is more than just a psychological concept — it is a social illness, one that strangles our collective progress.
The contradiction of faith and behaviour
What makes this all the more tragic is that we are a deeply religious nation. More than 95% of Gambians are Muslim, and the Christian community, while smaller, plays a vital role in shaping our moral and social values. Our mosques and churches preach humility, kindness, and support for one another. Yet, the values we profess on Friday or Sunday too often vanish by Monday morning.
Islam warns clearly against envy. In Surah Al-Falaq (113:5), Allah commands the Prophet to seek protection “from the evil of the envier when he envies”. Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) said: “Do not hate one another, do not envy one another, do not turn away from one another… be servants of Allah as brothers.” (Sahih Muslim)
Christian scripture is equally clear: “Where jealousy and selfish ambition exist, there will be disorder and every vile practice.” (James 3:16). The Bible also lists envy among the acts of the flesh that separate us from God’s kingdom.
Despite these teachings, we allow jealousy, gossip, and silent sabotage to rule our interactions. We pray for blessings while cursing those who receive them. We want development, but tear down those who bring it.
The story of Matarr Sarr – A real tragedy of national envy
We often think of the “crab syndrome” as a modern issue, but its roots run deep. One of the most painful examples in our national history is the story of Matarr Abdoulie Sarr — a man whose life and death reveal how deadly envy can become when left unchecked.
Born in 1932, Matarr Sarr was a pioneering businessman and philanthropist. He built businesses that employed fellow Gambians, supported youths in sport, and advocated for self-reliance at a time when dependency was still the national norm. As Hassoum Ceesay details in his biography Matarr Abdoulie Sarr (1932–1973): A Gambian Patriot, Sarr’s success was grounded in discipline, faith, and an unwavering belief in Gambian potential.
But his rising influence and outspoken nature made him a target.
On 28th March, 1973, he was shot and killed by the police at his home in Fajara. No criminal case was ever successfully made against him. No trial. Just silence. His only apparent “crime” was daring to think boldly and act independently in a country still unsure how to handle its own brilliance.
Sarr was not destroyed by colonial forces or foreign powers — he was brought down by fear, envy, and political insecurity within our own ranks.
His death should haunt us, not only for its injustice, but for what it symbolises: when Gambians try to rise with integrity, too often they are met not with support, but with suspicion and sabotage.
Notably, during the trial, Eric Christensen, then secretary general and head of the civil service, acted as a state witness. Despite his high-ranking government position, Eric testified to Matarr Sarr’s character, affirming that he was honourable, honest, hard-working, disciplined, and a true patriot. This testimony, recorded by Hassoum Ceesay, reinforces the fact that Sarr’s downfall was less about his character and more about the envy and fear that his success provoked.
A contemporary reflection of the crab mentality
The legacy of Matarr Sarr’s story resonates today. In recent years, a senior civil servant known for dedication, honesty, and professionalism faced undue suspicion and opposition within the system. Despite a strong commitment to public service, this individual was subjected to unfounded allegations and ultimately removed from their position.
This modern example illustrates how the destructive crab mentality continues to affect not only individuals but also the institutions on which our nation depends. It serves as a stark reminder that fostering an environment where integrity is protected and celebrated remains an urgent priority.
Only by addressing these patterns can The Gambia build a public service culture that encourages excellence without fear of backlash.
Historical roots of the crab mentality
This behaviour is not accidental. It has deep historical foundations.
During the colonial rule, the British administration rewarded obedience, not innovation. Opportunities were limited, and Gambians were conditioned to compete for narrow access to power. After independence, that scarcity mindset continued. Jobs were few, promotions often political, and advancement was seen as a zero-sum game: if you rise, I lose.
Even in the early days of democracy in ancient Athens — often celebrated as the cradle of participatory governance — there were echoes of this behaviour. Successful leaders like Themistocles, who helped defend Athens against the Persians, were later ostracised by vote and exiled. The system, meant to protect democracy, was at times used to target those whose success made others uncomfortable. That history shows that fear of excellence is not new — but it must be overcome for any society to thrive.
In our case, the legacy created a culture of suspicion, where success is rarely attributed to merit, but to tribal connections, foreign influence, or “luck”. Instead of building each other up, we learned to watch each other with caution, even contempt.
The Gambian diaspora and “coming home”
Our diaspora faces this syndrome sharply. Gambians abroad often want to return home and give back — whether through skills, money, or ideas. But many hesitate, having seen how returnees are sometimes mocked, overburdened with unrealistic expectations, or dismissed as outsiders.
However, it is important to recognise that resistance is not always driven solely by envy or fear. At times, some diaspora returnees — often unintentionally — project attitudes that suggest those who stayed behind are less knowledgeable or less capable. This perceived superiority can alienate communities and fuel skepticism about the sincerity of the help offered. When contributions come across as condescending or detached, even well-intentioned efforts face pushback.
To overcome this divide, both diaspora and locals must approach collaboration with humility, respect, and an appreciation of each other’s experiences and insights. Genuine partnership, rather than one-sided aid, is key to building trust and unlocking The Gambia’s full potential.
Some of our most talented children are working in Senegal, Nigeria, Europe, and the United States — not because they don’t love their country, but because they are afraid of home-grown hostility. Imagine what we could become if we welcomed them with open arms, not closed hearts.
Leadership, institutions, and responsibility
While individual behaviour is key, leadership must also set the tone. Our leaders — whether in government, religion, civil society, or media — must actively discourage the crab mentality and promote a culture of recognising and rewarding excellence.
We need national platforms to celebrate achievement: awards, scholarships, positive media stories, and school curricula that emphasise service over self-promotion. We must build institutions that are transparent, fair, and inclusive — so that success is not seen as privilege, but as the fruit of hard work.
Riding waves they didn’t start — on those who chase the spotlight
There are those who, rather than charting their own path, latch onto the efforts of others — eager to ride the wave without feeling the tide.
They offer commentary cloaked as originality, inserting themselves into conversations they didn’t start, all for a sliver of the spotlight.
Their craving for visibility often overshadows their contribution, revealing more ambition than authenticity.
In every circle, they exist — not to build, but to borrow brilliance.
This behaviour deepens the crab syndrome because it fosters distrust and resentment. When some chase recognition without genuine contribution, it diminishes the value of real innovators and discourages authentic efforts. For The Gambia to progress, we must value substance over showmanship and encourage sincere, grounded leadership.
A spiritual and civic call to action
The solution is not complicated — but it is spiritual and civic at the same time.
Let us remember what our religions teach: to bless, not curse; to lift, not pull down. Let our imams and pastors preach against envy with the same urgency as they preach against theft and immorality. Let us ask ourselves, each time someone rises: “How can I support them?” instead of “Why not me?”
Let our teachers and community leaders tell stories of Gambians who succeeded through effort and integrity. Let our youth learn to clap when others rise — and to rise by lifting others.
The Gambia is too small, too precious, and too full of potential for us to spend our energy tearing each other down. We cannot build a nation while resenting those who try. We must free ourselves from the bucket.
And when one crab climbs out — let us cheer, not sneer.
