By Muhammed Y Darboe
First, I do not expect you to understand the title of this article. I know there’s never any such word called Julying. It is just an imagination that if we can change the noun burn to verb burning, then something of such can be done for July: julying or even jullied. Did you already observe that August started its first day in the July shape? Anyway, let me discontinue this maths in grammar before you would know my twelfth grade score in the July exams.
July is infamous in our Gambian history since 1994. Well, contrary to your expectations, I wouldn’t dip my hands into July 22nd scandal. I call it scandal, but some bloody self-claimed bloodless ‘coupists’ and their accomplices rejoiced it as an annual feast. Recalcitrance dubbed as revolution. That’s our difference! But no one can tell farther than what was revealed at the TRRC. Except if you want to petition them while hiding the content of your petition. And that too would merely be a norm NOT a fresher. Gambia’s August mustn’t imitate its July.
If Julys are Augusts then every Gambian should be ready for a wild ride. That’s a good adage, right? And who owns proverbs or adages by the way? The fact is that we cannot July August in this summer. We need systematic rainfall of water not some ntaling ntalings. I think the hyena and rabbit, or the old woman and the child should have been enough for us. They are sufficiently informative and with enough wisdom to learn and have fun from. Only lord knows why he heaps on this generation the cruelty of Covid-19, flimflams of 500m Kaba tree, hopeful presidential jujus placed under innocent deceased or even cleric death treats. It is all dark in July.
We have endured a lot of hardship in July. But yes we must admit and acknowledge some fun part of it. It was a complete fun to hear from the host of nation’s main house quoting the Germans saying it as our ‘Capital is nice’. It’s also joyous for Lamin Koto people, knowing that sometimes the Marina Parade lacks basics things such as water. That shows some equivalence in the parennial hardship between the royalty and far-reaching subjects, the hometown of Karl Jabbie. It’s just first August and we are starting it with an agreed fray between Doi’s grey hair political veteran and the standard bearer of alliance of citizens over the accusation that all past players in uprooting the dictator murmured the drive. Papa says no and Dr insisted so we’re going into another dramatic August.
