Yerro’s journey to The Gambia began out of sheer necessity. His vision had been steadily deteriorating over the years, and an unfortunate accident—where a brick fell into his eyes while he was helping his peers construct a hut for a bride’s father—had only made matters worse. The resulting cataracts threatened to take his sight completely, leaving him no choice but to seek surgery in The Gambia after numerous failed attempts to heal his eyes through traditional remedies.
The surgery was successful, a relief that filled Yerro with gratitude and hope. With his vision restored, he could finally see the world clearly again. The colors were brighter, the faces of those around him sharper. But as he recovered, his uncle, Ousman Bah, who had accompanied him on this journey, began to sow the seeds of a new plan in Yerro’s mind.
“Yerro,” Ousman had said one evening as they sat outside the small house where they were staying in Jeshwang, “You have a chance to build something new here. The Gambia is a land of opportunity. You’ve seen it yourself. Why not stay, build a home, and bring your family here? This could be the fresh start you’ve been needing.”
At first, Yerro was hesitant. The thought of leaving behind his home in Casamance, the land of his ancestors, was daunting. But as the days passed and his uncle’s words lingered in his mind, Yerro began to see the possibilities. He confided in his second wife, with whom he had travelled to The Gambia, who was all but happy to follow his lead. He imagined a life where he wasn’t constantly struggling against the limitations imposed by his failing eyesight, a life where he could work and provide for his family without the ever-present fear of blindness…
The decision was not an easy one, but Yerro eventually agreed. He would stay in The Gambia, build a home, and send for his family once everything was ready. With this decision made, Yerro threw himself into his work, using his skills as a builder to construct a modest house in Jeshwang. The local community welcomed him, offering their support and friendship, and slowly, Yerro began to feel that The Gambia could indeed be home.
Back in Casamance, however, Borogie, Yerro’s first wife, was unaware of the plans taking shape in her husband’s mind. She waited anxiously for news, her heart heavy with the uncertainty of what the future would hold. The days turned into weeks, and her worry deepened, especially as her pregnancy advanced. She longed for the day when they would be reunited as a family.
The letter Yerro sent, carried by Ousman Bah, finally arrived in Sareh Dembodor after several days of travel. As Ousman approached the compound of Samba Mawdo, Borogie’s father, he was greeted by the excited cries of Yerro’s children, Matou and Khadjel, who were playing outside in the sand.
“Maama Ousman has come! Maama Ousman has come!” they shouted, running to embrace their granduncle. Borogie, hearing the commotion, rushed out of the house, her heart racing with both hope and fear. She had been desperate for news of Yerro, particularly about the outcome of his surgery.
After the warm greetings and the initial excitement had subsided, the family gathered under the shade of the large baobab tree in the center of the compound. The air was thick with anticipation as Ousman recounted his journey and the news he had brought from The Gambia.
“Yerro is doing well,” Ousman began, his voice calm and reassuring. “The surgery was successful, and his vision is fully restored. He’s already started working, and he’s built a house in Jeshwang. He wants you all to join him as soon as possible.”
Borogie’s heart swelled with relief. The thought of reuniting with Yerro and beginning their life together in The Gambia filled her with joy. But as she turned to look at her father, Samba Mawdo, she saw the concern etched on his face.
Samba Mawdo was a man deeply rooted in the traditions and customs of his people. The thought of sending his daughter and grandchildren to a foreign land troubled him. The cultural and linguistic differences, the uncertainty of what awaited them in The Gambia, and the fear of the unknown all weighed heavily on his mind. He had seen others leave for new lands and never return, their stories lost to the winds of change.
“Borogie,” Samba Mawdo finally spoke, his voice heavy with the weight of his concerns, “Are you sure about this? The Gambia is not like Casamance. It’s a different place, with different people and customs. What if things don’t work out? What if you get there and find that life is harder than it is here?”
Borogie, though deeply respectful of her father’s concerns, was resolute in her decision. “Papa,” she began gently, “Yerro is my husband, and where he goes, I must follow. I know it won’t be easy, but we’ve already been apart for too long. Our children need their father, and I need my husband. We are a family, and we should be together.”
Her words hung in the air, met with silence. Samba Mawdo’s eyes softened as he looked at his daughter, knowing deep down that she was right. His protective instincts made it difficult for him to let her go, but he also understood the sanctity of the bond between husband and wife.
Ousman, sensing the tension, spoke up. “Samba Mawdo, I understand your concerns. But I’ve seen the life that Yerro is building in Jeshwang. He’s worked hard to create a home for his family. The people there are good and have welcomed him with open arms, just as they had welcomed me. He’s not alone, and neither will be Borogie and the children. They will have a community to support them.”
Samba Mawdo remained silent, his thoughts racing. He knew that keeping Borogie in Casamance would only delay the inevitable. The bond between husband and wife was sacred, and it was not his place to stand in the way of that bond. Yet, the fear of the unknown gnawed at him.
Samba Mawdo loved his only daughter, Borogie, deeply. Besides being the spitting image of him, Borogie had brought great fortune to her father the year she was born. It was in that very year that he was appointed ‘jarrga,’ or chief, of his natal village, Kanjor. He had held this esteemed position throughout her childhood, but when Borogie was given to Yerro as a wife, the oracles advised him to relinquish the title. Reluctantly, he did so, understanding that life had its own tides and currents that he could not resist.
He had always known that one day Borogie would leave for distant lands, but he had hoped that day would come later. Borogie had been the heart of their home since her mother’s passing, taking on the role of caregiver for her younger siblings, feeding and clothing them until they could fend for themselves. She held a special place in his heart, and the thought of her leaving was a pain he could scarcely bear.
“Papa, please,” Borogie’s voice interrupted his thoughts, trembling with emotion. “I need to be with Yerro. I need to know that we are facing life together, no matter the challenges. I cannot stay here and wonder what could have been. Please, let us go.”
Her plea touched something deep within Samba Mawdo. He realized that his reluctance was rooted more in his own fears than in what was best for his daughter. He had always prided himself on being a strong and protective father, but now he had to acknowledge that true strength sometimes meant letting go.
After what felt like an eternity, Samba Mawdo finally nodded. “Very well,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You may go to your husband. But promise me this, Borogie – if things become too difficult, if you ever feel unsafe or unsure, you will come back home. You will always have a place here with us.”
Borogie’s eyes filled with tears, a mixture of relief and gratitude. “Thank you, Papa,” she whispered, embracing him tightly. “I promise.”
With the decision made, Ousman began preparing for the journey back to The Gambia. The days leading up to their departure were filled with a flurry of activity as Borogie and the children packed their belongings and said their goodbyes. The village, though sad to see them go, understood the importance of family and wished them well on their journey.
On the morning of their departure, the entire village gathered to see them off. Samba Mawdo stood at the edge of the crowd, his eyes moist with unshed tears. He watched as Borogie, now visibly pregnant, hugged her family and friends, her children clinging to her skirts. He felt a pang of sadness but also a sense of pride in his daughter’s strength and determination.
As they loaded their belongings onto the cart that would take them to the main road, Ousman took a moment to speak privately with Samba Mawdo. “I will take care of them, Samba Mawdo,” he promised. “They are in good hands.”
Samba Mawdo nodded, grateful for his support. “I know you will, Ousman. Thank you.”
With one final wave, Ousman, Borogie, and the children set off on their journey. The road ahead was long and uncertain, but they traveled with hope in their hearts. For Borogie, the thought of reuniting with Yerro gave her the strength to endure the discomforts of travel. She knew that the road would not be easy, but she was determined to face whatever challenges came their way.
The journey would be long, but they will find their way home…
To be contd.
