Dear Editor,
Mr President, as we approach the 2026 election, our nation stands at a crossroads, burdened by issues that have long gone unaddressed under your leadership.
Today, the cost of bad governance is no longer just a domestic debate; it has become a global barrier. On December 16, 2025, the United States government issued a proclamation that effectively bars the doors of opportunity for Gambian students.
The report cited vetting “deficiencies,” an over 38 percent student overstay rate, and a lack of reliable national systems.
According to the report, “The Gambia had a B-1/B-2 visa overstay rate of 12.70 percent and an F, M, and J visa overstay rate of 38.79 percent,” and has historically refused to accept back its removable nationals. Hence, our nation is facing a crisis of character and competence that cannot be ignored.
Mr President, consider the weight of these statistics on a population of only 2.4 million.
Why do our students overstay in America? In many instances, Gambian students abroad are left stranded. When a passport expires, our embassies are silent. Students are forced to send their documents back home into a bureaucratic “long story” of delays, sometimes losing their legal status in the process. One wonders what the primary responsibilities of some of these embassies are.
Is it to serve citizens, or to receive government officials on “mission,” especially in places like Manhattan, while national interest is sidelined?
It is embarrassing that a nation of our size cannot produce reliable data or manage a basic civil registry. In fact, some international organisations have openly complained about the lack of reliable statistical data when attempting comparative studies. There is a scarcity of data in most cases, and hardly any credible data in others in The Gambia.
Many records remain handwritten, even in Immigration and in schools. No wonder important files keep disappearing when the need arises. If some data are not lost to rain because of bad roofing, they’re lost during office relocations. This is not merely incompetence. It signals the urgent need for systemic change. When the US calls us “deficient,” it is not insulting Gambians. It’s indicting a leadership that prefers political survival over administrative integrity.
We’ve become a “laughingstock” because we treat our citizens as “unwanted” at home, leaving some of them with no choice but to be “unwanted” abroad. When students return home after completing their studies, many find their applications mysteriously “disappear” at the Personnel Management Office (PMO). While recent moves toward online applications may offer some hope, the reality remains that if you don’t have a “connection,” you don’t have a job. Many have become frustrated by this system.
A similar pattern existed during the PPP era, when scholarships were largely reserved for the children of elites and their associates, while those from humble homes were sidelined, frustrated, and later labeled liabilities. This was precisely what Yahya Jammeh promised to correct when he seized power by force, yet he ultimately replicated the same system. By the end of the APRC regime, Jammeh turned our nation not only into a slaughtering house but also robbed us of our resources. What a shame. I cry for our nation. As for you, Mr. Barrow, with all the honesty and enthusiasm we felt in 2017, you dashed it to the ground and took us for a ride. Even those who believed you could bring change through the vision of Coalition 2016 now stand deeply disappointed.
We are a nation that respects no education. Our literacy rate stands at 58 percent, according to international development indicators. Less than three percent of the population holds a Master’s degree, and only about two percent have a Bachelor’s degree, based on available national and international estimates. Imagine a country with no public libraries. No equipped laboratories in public schools or universities.
I vividly remember being called by the late Uncle Modou Nyandou (my next-door uncle in our Churchill’s Town neighborhood), a man who served the system for over 30 years. He showed me a room filled with books he wanted to donate to the University of The Gambia (UTG). When I explained that UTG had no organised library to receive them, he held me and shook me, his face filled with disbelief.
“What are they doing? What is wrong with us?” he asked.
In 2017, the Chinese Embassy donated books on foreign policy and philosophy to my class. I took them to the Head of the School of Journalism, hoping they would be a treasure for students. Instead, those books sat in cartons until the day I left. There was no library. There was no laboratory. There was only the empty promise of an “initiative in the pipeline.”
Mr. President, it’s not enough to name the problems, we must also fix them. If our educational system is to be standardised and respected, we must first build a uniform system, not one for the rich and another for the rest. Education must not be a privilege reserved for those with money or connections. It must be a national standard that commands respect.
Today, our educational credentials are questioned even though we are an English speaking country. This is why many US universities do not recognise our qualifications as sufficient proof of proficiency. Gambian students are forced to travel to Senegal just to sit for the GRE or TOEFL to prove that they speak the language they were educated in. This is too sad and deeply humiliating. It reflects the absence of standardisation, quality assurance, and credibility in our education system.
Let our educational system be respected. That respect must begin with properly equipped schools, trained and motivated teachers, standardised curricula, credible national assessment systems, and independent accreditation bodies. Until this foundation is fixed, our students will continue to carry the burden of a system that fails them, even when they excel.
The people of a nation often mirror the leadership they endure. If the world sees a nation of fraud and “vetting deficiencies,” it’s a reflection of leadership failure. We do not want more “pipelines.” We want libraries in every region.
We want laboratories in every school. We want a merit-based PMO where expertise and experience are valued more than political loyalty.
Mr President, Uncle Modou’s question still rings out, “What is wrong with us?” That answer lies with you. Fix the system or prepare to be remembered as the leader who turned the Smiling Coast of Africa into a closed door.
Regards,
Fatou Janneh
Sukuta/Wisconsin
