By Baba Galleh Jallow
Growing up in Chaku Bantang, and well into my adult life, there was only one person I could call my best friend. His name was Musa Trawalley, aka Musa Jobe, alias Father Mose. He was much older than me, but age difference was no barrier to our friendship. He was one of Chaku’s best mechanics, and was widely known and respected in the town because of his active involvement and engagement with all kinds of community activities, from naming ceremonies, to funerals, weddings and sports. He had an incredible capacity to honor invitations and attend events all over town. He passed away about two years ago. May Allah bless his soul in eternity.
At the time of his passing, Musa Jobe’s workshop was wedged between Farafenni Police Station and Pa Jarra’s PB Petrol Station. Father Mose was a tall, slim man, with a very kind and friendly personality. He was a champion peacemaker and found pleasure in making marriages and friendships work whenever he could. He acted as some kind of counsellor for me, giving me some of the most beneficial advice I ever received from the days I was in Farafenni junior secondary school to the very end of his life a couple of years ago. When I was attending Gambia High Sixth Form, Father Mose made it a point to come visit me at my guardian’s compound at 55 Haddington Street whenever he came to Banjul. He unfailingly brought me some Nescafe which he knew I loved and used to stay awake and study at night, and many times, he gave me some pocket money too.
I knew Father Mose when I was very young, maybe 14 or 15, and used to accompany my father to his workshop when our car was being repaired. At that time Father Mose shared a workshop with another mechanic called Ousman Sowe (Lagara). Their workshop was located near the compound of Sherif Dibba’s (Degs) father. Ousman Sowe was a tall, well-built, dark-skinned man with a bushy beard who liked to create trouble for me because I used to call him Lagara, after a mad man he resembled. He did not get mad at me, but knowing how strict my father was, he would sometimes suddenly say out aloud, “Galleh move away from here waii! People are working!” At which my father would angrily shout at me and Ousman Sowe would burst out laughing. Father Mose would calm my father down and pull me to his side. That was the origin of my lifelong friendship with Father Mose. Him, a grown-up man; me, a teenager. It did not matter. Unfortunately, Ousman Sowe passed away many years ago. He was a very kind and carefree man who looked fierce but was actually very harmless and friendly. May Allah bless his soul in eternity.
For many years before his passing, Father Mose shared a workshop with a number of other great mechanics. One of them was his friend Bekai Keita, with whom he migrated to Chaku from Senegal many years ago. Bekai, who is still alive, is a light-skinned man of medium height who is also known to be a very good mechanic. He has a very friendly disposition and liked to engage in lively conversations. Another mechanic with whom Father Mose shared the same workshop was Ebou Joof, an electrician. Gra Ebou, as I used to call him, was a slender man of medium height who had a very robust and outgoing personality. He walked in wide strides and could be heard sharing jokes and laughing out aloud by visitors to the workshop. As a Serer, he liked to tease my father and run away to avoid being caught and having his ears pulled by Pa Mamadou Jallow. I have witnessed occasions when my dad caught Gra Ebou unawares and pinched his ears or gave him a knock on the head, at which Gra Ebou would squeal and run or beg for forgiveness amid much laughter by Father Mose and other onlookers. Gra Ebou passed away a few years before Father Mose. May Allah bless his soul in eternity.
A week before Father Mose passed away, another of his colleagues at the same workshop passed away. Jarga Mbowe, a motorbike mechanic, was a well-built man of medium height with a very kind and friendly personality. A man of few words, Jarga always had a ready smile for everyone and was one of those people who took things easy in their lives. When Jarga Mbowe suddenly passed away while Musa Jobe was at a hospital in nearby Nioro, Senegal, no one dared inform Musa. It was so sad and ironic that these two buddies and co-workers passed away within a week of one another and neither of them knew the fact of the other’s passing.
No one can speak of the great mechanics of Chaku Bantang without mentioning Morr Ndow, who may rightfully be termed the doyen of Farafenni mechanics. Pa Morr Ndow was a short, well-built man with bandy legs whose work uniform was always a dark or grey ambassador suit. Pa Morr Ndow’s workshop was situated on the street leading from the market area to Farafenni Balanghar. He was a no-nonsense man who was also highly skilled at his work and widely respected in town.
Pa Morr Ndow shared his workshop with my good friend, neighbour and agemate Batch Lowe, who was a welder. Batch Lowe and I were neighbours in Farafenni Wharf Town and classmates at Farafenni primary school, but he later dropped out to learn a trade. When we were young children in primary school, Batch Lowe and I had many after-school fights and sometimes he would go home crying and his grandma, Mam Njogu Cham, would walk over to our compound to address me. I remember one day Mam Njogu came to our compound carrying a large pestle and looking for me, demanding to know why I always beat Batch. In spite of these early childhood fights, Batch and I grew up to be very close friends. When he passed away, I was in exile in the United States. But I was told that the crowd that attended his funeral and accompanied his body to the graveyard was astounding, a testament to the love and respect Batch commanded in Farafenni. May Allah bless his soul in eternity.
If my memory serves me right, Batch Lowe learnt his trade from a mechanic and welder who shared a workshop with Pa Morr Ndow. From a very early age, I remember this very kind and gentle man called Zeal. Zeal was a man of medium height and slender build whom I remember also had another apprentice called Victor. Victor was a tough fellow who was known in Chaku Bantang to be at once a hothead and a very friendly person. Victor was around the same age as Father Mose and Gra Ebou Joof. I liked to tease Victor by calling him “suma raka” (my little brother) at which he would always laugh and say “Baba Galleh, doh bayil toyn.” I don’t know if Victor is still alive, but I am almost certain that Zeal must have passed away. He was already at an advanced age when we were in primary school!
Thinking of Zeal and Victor reminds me of another mechanic, a specialist in motorbike repair we knew only by his nickname, Jeet (Wolof for Scorpion). I remember Jeet as a short, light-skinned and well-built elderly fellow who, like Zeal and Victor, was of Senegalese origin. According to stories we heard, Jeet was nicknamed Jeet because a scorpion once got into his pants and stung him at a sensitive area. I don’t know how true this story was, but I know for sure that Jeet always got very angry when someone called him Jeet. I never dared call him that but could not help remembering the story anytime I saw Jeet!
There was also another motorbike mechanic who hated the nickname by which he was generally known in Chaku Bantang. This man was called Kerr Hambou after a village in Senegal. The story goes that he hated that nickname because he was the victim of a devastating financial scam that happened in that village. There was a time in Chaku Bantang when news suddenly broke that there was a marabout in Kerr Hambou who could multiply people’s monies in a matter of hours. Many people travelled to the village to have their monies multiplied. Apparently, Kerr Hambou had a very bad experience with the scammer, which was both how and why he hated his nickname! Of course, I never called him Kerr Hambou, but could not help remembering the story anytime I saw him! I don’t know if he is still alive. If he is, may God preserve and grant him good health and a long life. If not, may God bless his soul in eternity and bless the souls of all the departed of Chaku Bantang!
