By Baba Galleh Jallow
During our childhood days, there were a lot of prominent Senegalese elders in Chaku Bantang, mostly belonging to the Mouride Tariqa founded by the great saint, Sheikh Ashmadou Bamba. One such elder was Pa Mbakey Saye. Pa Mbakey Saye lived in the compound directly adjacent and to the south of Pa Alasan Jobe’s compound. He was a tall, dark-skinned, well-built man who must have been of formidable stature in his youth. He now had a slight stoop when he walked, but was visibly strong as shown by his brisk walk and wide stride. Pa Mbakey Saye owned a shop at the market facing the Bamba Tenda highway where he sold kerosene in large oil barrels. In those days many people in Chaku Bantang used kerosene lamps to light their homes and people came to buy the oil from Pa Mbakey Saye. He was a very kind and gentle elder who could always be seen smiling and chatting to people. May Allah bless his soul in eternity.
Two compounds west of Pa Mbakey Saye’s residence lived another Mouride elder called Pa Sheikh Amar. Pa Sheikh Amar, a short, well-built elder, was some kind of a recluse as he wasn’t seen outside very much. He worked as a mattress maker and sold the completed grass-stuffed mattresses to customers who stopped by. He also had a bakery in his compound where bakers worked in the nights to produce bread. Pa Sheikh Amar was a man of few words who quietly went about his business, responding politely to greetings but otherwise mostly inside his compound. May Allah bless his soul in eternity.
Directly opposite Pa Sheikh Amar’s compound on the other side of the street stands our small neighborhood mosque, the one from which Pa Alasan Jobe made the call for prayer and at which during Ramadan, we went for the nightly nawafil prayers. About 50 feet west of the mosque and on the left side of the street was the compound of another well-known and widely respected elder of Chaku Bantang during our childhood days. His name was Alhagie Ousman Samba, a larger-than-life figure in the Farafenni community. A fairly tall, well-built man, Pa Alhagie Ousman Samba was always impeccably dressed in large white boubous and walked in wide, measured steps. He was an iconic figure around Chaku Bantang and could be found in any gathering of elders in the community. Young as we were, we knew that people listened when Pa Alhagie Ousman Samba spoke. May Allah bless his soul in eternity.
Pa Alhagie Ousman Samba shared a compound fence with another iconic elder in Farafenni Wharf Town called Pa Ngagne Gai. Pa Ngagne Gai was the father of our elder brother Ebou Gai (who recently passed away), and our elder sisters Sainabou and Norr Gai. A tall, slim elder with a prominent goatee and large white eyes, Pa Ngagne Gai was a strict elder who would often remind us to go do something useful when he found us playing in the street! When we were very young, it was Pa Ngagne Gai who woke our neighbourhood up for fajr prayers every day. I used to lie in my bed and listen to Pa Ngagne Gai’s voice as it approached our compound and eventually faded into the distance shouting in Wolof, “jog len juli! jog len juli! Dengen ko kat! Juliiiii!” (Wake up and pray! Wake up and pray! You heard it! Praaaaay!) He would repeat this mantra for a long time before his voice faded away in the early morning darkness. As I lay on my bed listening to Pa Ngagne Gai, I used to wonder what would happen if he met the one-legged horse we believed used to hop around our neighborhood in the dark! The thought used to make my hair stand on edge. Later when Pa Ngagne Gai stopped his early morning calls to prayer, I wondered whether he had eventually run into the one-legged horse and became afraid to walk the dark streets in those early dawn hours! May Allah bless his soul in eternity.
Another prominent elder who lived in our neighbourhood was Pa Lamin Sallah, father of police officer Alhagie Sallah of blessed memory and our elder sisters Oumie and Yama Sallah, and grandfather of police officer Ebrima Sallah (Justice). Pa Lamin Sallah was a dark-skinned, slightly built man of medium height. He had a mango tree right at the corner of his compound, almost on the street under which we used to play as children. A gentle and kind elder, Pa Lamin Sallah had a lot of knowledge about colonial Gambia and could often be heard talking about some of the colonial officials who worked in The Gambia. If my memory serves me right, Pa Lamin Sallah was also a veteran of the Second World War. In the latter part of his life, he joined other elders at the Farafenni fish market and shared a stall with the likes of Pa Kebba Sowe and Pa Juka Jobe. I remember Pa Lamin Sallah particularly for convincing my father to take me to school and for convincing him many times in subsequent years to allow me to continue in school. May Allah bless his soul in eternity.
Directly across the street and to the east of Pa Lamin Sallah’s compound was the compound of Pa Abdoulie Sowe. Pa Ablie Sowe, as he was commonly called, was the father of our elder brothers Amadou and Hassan Sowe, our elder sister Isatou Sowe, and my agemates Mamat Sowe of blessed memory, and Fatou Sowe. He was a short, well-built elder with a very calm demeanour and a very tolerant personality. I say this because we children used to play inside Pa Ablie Sowe’s compound and made a lot of noise. His younger daughters Ida and Ndey Sowe often had their friends come over and they would sing and clap and dance as they hit on metal bowls to produce their music. Hassan Sowe also had many friends, including myself, and we spent a lot of time at Pa Ablie Sowe’s compound or compound gate playing loud music, ludo and cards and brewing attaya. Pa Ablie Sowe did not seem to mind the noise which sometimes went on till around 10 pm or later. He was one of my father’s closest friends and confidantes and often walked over to chat with him. His compound was directly adjacent and to the south of ours. Only a small street separated our compounds. May Allah bless his soul in eternity.
A few compounds to the south of Pa Ablie Sowe’s compound was the compound of one of the gentlest elders of Chaku Bantang I ever knew. Pa Cherno Njie, father of my little brother Muhammed Nyunka Njie was an epitome of gentleness. He was a dark-skinned man of medium build and medium height. Almost always dressed in neat, white haftans, Pa Cherno Njie was a quiet and soft-spoken elder of very few words. I always admired his calm demeanour and how he just quietly walked up and down the street on his way to and from the market. If my memory serves me right, Pa Cherno Njie used to sell cola nuts at the market. My strongest memory of him is seeing him walk quietly past our compound gate on his way to or from the market. May Allah bless his soul in eternity.
