Baba G Jallow
The fish selling section was perhaps one of the liveliest areas in Farafenni market. Hundreds of women converged in the area every morning, looking from stall to stall, haggling with the sellers, and buying what they needed. Their chatter and laughter filled the entire area well into the late mornings and early afternoons, as they were served by a number of fish sellers like Pa Juka Jobe, my father, and myself. There were quite a few other fish sellers who spent their days at that section of the market. They went home early if their fish sold out early, or spent the entire day waiting for customers when their stock wasn’t finished.
One of the most lively and interesting fish sellers at Farafenni market was Dam Ndiaye, my father’s assistant. Gra Dam, as we fondly called him, was a tall, dark-skinned man from Senegal. He used to help my father when he went to Kaolack to buy fish and eventually became his trusted assistant. At some point, Gra Dam took over the task of buying fish from Kaolack and bringing it to Farafenni every morning. After about two years of their partnership, Gra Dam bought a compound near Jigimarr and relocated to Farafenni with his family. When my father passed away several years later, Gra Dam continued the fish business on his own until he too, passed away a few years later. May God bless his soul in eternity.
In his youth, Gra Dam was a wrestler in his native Jollof. He used to tell me of his wrestling exploits and maintained his strong physique well past his middle age. A very kind, lively and jovial man, Gra Dam was extremely popular with the ladies because he told jokes that frequently made them shriek and squeal with laughter. Sometimes, when our stall was particularly busy, Gra Dam would break into a popular song and start dancing as the women clapped, shouted and laughed hysterically. One of his favourite jokes which was rather irreverent, but was very popular with the ladies and made them squeal and shout with laughter was when Gra Dam stood still and asked in Wollof: “Waw, waaji buga jeetay jakaji teh solut tubay nak?” (What about the man who wants to lead the prayers but is not wearing a trouser?) At this, the women would break into hysterical bales of laughter, shrieks and claps! And Gra Dam would laugh out loud and sway from side to side! He was truly fun to be with.
A close friend of Gra Dam’s among the fish sellers was his age mate Alhagie Ceesay, alias DeGaulle. DeGaulle was also a tall, dark-skinned and well-built fellow who started off as an apprentice to my dad. He later started his own business and had his own stall, next to Pa Juka Jobe’s. He was not as funny as Gra Dam but was also a very kind and friendly man who occasionally made jokes and burst out into loud laughter. Both DeGaulle and Gra Dam were like elder brothers to me. They both passed away when I was in exile in the United States, but their families continue to live in Chaku Bantang.
Alhagie Ceesay shared a stall with Pa Kebba Sowe, another great elder of Chaku Bantang. Pa Kebba Sowe was the father of our elder brother Batch Sowe, my agemate Sheikh Sowe, and his younger brother Fallou Sowe, current National Coordinator of the Network Against Gender-Based Violence. Pa Kebba Sowe’s compound was just behind ours in Farafenni Wharf Town, and Sheikh and I used to play together and wrestle in the sand when we were very young. Pa Kebba Sowe had a strict side to him, when necessary, but he was almost always smiling and laughing. May Allah bless his soul in eternity.
A concrete pillar separated Pa Kebba Sowe’s stall from Pa Seydou Sey and Pa Ousman Cham’s stall. Pa Seydou Sey was a chubalo fisherman who later transitioned into being a fish seller as well. He was a tall, hefty man with a strict countenance but a very friendly disposition. His partner, Pa Ousman Cham, was a short, well-built man who was also very kind and friendly.
Just next to the meat sellers was the stall of Pa Morr Saine, a short, dark-skinned, well-built and intense elder who had a rather eccentric personality. Pa Morr Saine liked to wear a very serious and angry-looking face, and would often sound angry when he spoke to customers. But it was all on the outside. When the next moment his face broke into a smile or a laugh, his kind and gentle disposition came into full display. That’s why those who knew him never took his angry pretenses seriously. He was a typical Serere elder whose sense of humour was infectious. May Allah bless his soul in eternity.
Pa Morr Saine shared a stall with Gra Ebou Jallow. Gra Ebou was a well-built man of medium height who possessed immense strength. He had only one leg and walked with the help of crutches. But from morning to afternoon, he put his crutches aside and stood on his single leg as he cut large fish into pieces and served his customers. Gra Ebou was a very kind and gentle man of few words. He always had a kind look on his face and I never saw him angry or arguing with anyone at the market.
Another elder who sold fish at the market was Pa Fafanding Touray, whose stall was right next to my father’s. Pa Fafanding Touray, a fairly tall and light-skinned man, was a robust elder who always rode a bike to the market. He shared a stall with Pa Demba Ceesay and the two of them got along very well. I never heard them argue over anything as they served their customers. Pa Fafanding was a strict man, but he and I had a very good relationship and used to call each other “Wekh Tal” (Very White). I can’t remember how we came to call each other this nickname, but I would always say “Wekh Tal” and he would replay “Wekh Tal”! When his sales took an unexpected good turn after a slow morning start, Pa Fafanding would often laugh and say out aloud, in Wolof, “Jaan amut tanke waii Yallah koi watat!” (A snake has no legs but God drags it along!) Pa Demba Ceesay, on the other hand, was a man of few words. He was mostly quiet as he stood or sat at his stall attending to customers. Both Pa Demba Ceesay and Pa Fafanding Touray passed away some years ago. May Allah bless their souls in eternity.
