By Baba Galleh Jallow
During our childhood days, Chaku Bantang was a melting pot of cultures and a bustling business metropolis. It still is to some extent. But in those days, in addition to the many Gambian, Senegalese, and Guinean-owned businesses, there was also a sizeable number of Mauritanian and Lebanese-owned businesses in the town. I did not know many of the Mauritanians who owned the several well-stocked shops around the market, but some of the Lebanese businessmen were fairly well-known around town.
In addition to the robust and jovial Michael Keenan, alias Michel, who we discussed in an earlier segment of this series, one wealthy businessman I remember from a very early age was called Chofi. Chofi’s compound was adjacent Odeon Cinema. I remember him as a short, well-built man with a protruding tommy who drove a small white car whose mark I don’t remember. Chofi was known in Chaku Bantang as Boy Jinneh.
I don’t know how he got that nickname, but it was widely believed that his car could drive across the river. Word had it that if Chofi missed the ferry at Bamba Tenda, he simply drove his car into the river and crossed. He must have been very wealthy to own such a car during that period.
Two compounds north of Chofi’s compound was the compound owned by another wealthy Lebanese businessman called Aziz. Aziz was also a short, well-built man with a large tummy. He was a groundnut trader and had a large secco (groundnut depot) right behind his compound, in the space between his back fence and the first compounds of Balanghar Farafenni. During the groundnut trade season, Aziz used to have a huge pyramid of groundnuts piled in his secco. Sometimes, we children would go there with our bamboo trucks which we filled with groundnuts and dragged back to our mothers.
Across the street adjacent to Aziz’s compound was the large shop and compound of Alex Madi. Alex Madi was also a short, well-built man with a very large tummy. There was a spot on Alex Madi’s veranda that poured a lot of water when it rained, much like a mini waterfall. At such times, we would all undress and rush there under the rain to spend time splashing at that spot! We children also used to like coming over to Alex Madi’s shop and chanting “Alexi Madi! Sa birr bu rey bi! Alexi Madi! Sa birr bu rey bi!” Alex Madi would sometimes ignore us. Sometimes, he would come out with his walking stick and say “acha! Acha!’ and we would all scamper away still chanting “Alexi Madi! Sa birr bu rey bi!” Sometimes, it was his faithful watchman Pa Daramane who came out and drove us away. Pa Daramane was very well known to us children, because anytime he met us in the streets, he would pull out his knife and approach us saying, “nyoragut? nyoragut?” (is it ripe yet? is it ripe yet?) and we would say “daydate!” (no!) and scamper out of his reach as he approached us. Pa Daramane would laugh out aloud and go on his way. We knew he was joking, but we did not find his jokes about instant street circumcision particularly funny. We took absolutely no chances! Pa Daramane, who was a Tilibonka from Mali, was a very kind and friendly old man who served Alex Madi for many years.
Thinking of Pa Daramane reminds me of Pa Jamano Kura, another Tilibonka (Malian) elder in Chaku Bantang. Jamano Kura, whose name means “New Age” in Bambara, was a short, frail-looking old man with bandy legs. But his size belied his physical strength, for Jamano Kura was a famous well-digger in Chaku Bantang, a profession that required lots of energy and physical exertion. Our own well and the wells of many families in Chaku Bantang were single-handedly dug by Jamano Kura, with the help of an assistant. Jamano Kura used his pickaxe to dig the well while his assistant hauled the mud out of the hole in a bucket. Jamano Kura’s cheeks were marked by large tribal marks on both sides of his face, but he had a kind and friendly countenance and would always respond and smile at us children when we saw him and shouted “Jamano Kura! Jamano Kura!”
Right behind Alex Madi’s compound was the compound of Dr Mboob, father of our elder brother Mass Mboob, our agemate Musa Mboob, and sister Nguie Mboob. Dr Mboob was a tall, slim man with a swift walk and a permanent smile on his face. His clinic was a small building at the entrance of his compound facing Balanghar Farafenni. Many a time, my father had taken me to Dr Mboob’s clinic or asked me to go see Dr Mboob when I was sick. The good Doctor was always kind and always friendly and very gentle.
Adjacent and to the north of Alex Madi’s shop and compound was the shop and compound of another prominent Lebanese businessman we simply knew as Pa Dackor. Pa Dackor, a man of medium height with a scruffy beard, was the father of our elder brother Hassan Dackor and our agemates and classmates Bassam Dackor and Susan Dackor. Pa Dackor was a very friendly elder who engaged us children in conversation whenever we passed by his shop. Hassan and Bassam Dackor were very popular among the boys of Chaku Bantang.
A few shops north of Pa Dackor’s shop was the shop of a Lebanese businessman most people knew only as Amet Diab. Amet Diab was a refined gentleman who was always well dressed and liked to walk the distance between his shop and his compound on the Farafenni-Keur Ayib highway. Amet Diab was the father of my secondary school classmates Muna and Maha Diab, and their two younger brothers. One of the brothers was called Munir Diab. I can’t remember the other boy’s name. Both boys were very good footballers who played for Farafenni nawetan teams. In those days, the nawetan tournament was played at the Farafenni Primary School field, adjacent the police station. Amet Diab was the first businessman to have a Senfour oven in Chaku Bantang. The oven was located in his compound.
Right next to Amet Diab’s compound was the compound and clinic of Dr Kebba Nyangado, another great elder and doctor in Chaku Bantang. Dr Kebba Nyangado was a short, always impeccably but simply dressed gentleman who often wore a felt hat. He was exceedingly kind and polite, and spent some of his afternoon’s chatting with other elders at Pa Sambujang Jagne’s compound gate. Dr Nyangado’s clinic, located on the northern corner of his compound, was a popular destination for patients from both Chaku Bantang and nearby towns and villages. People crossed the border from Senegal to seek treatment at Dr Nyangado’s clinic. Dr Nyangado was a very good friend of my father’s and often came around to our compound to see him. On so many occasions, I visited Dr Nyangado’s clinic for treatment. He was truly an epitome of humility and gentility. May Allah bless his soul in eternity, and may Allah bless the souls of all the gentle elders of Chaku Bantang who have passed on, and may He preserve the lives and good health of those still alive!
