By Abdoulie Mam Njie
There is an uncomfortable truth many of us feel but rarely express: as a society, we have slowly grown more comfortable with mediocrity and less protective of excellence. This is not about any government or administration. It is about all of us, our collective standards, habits, and expectations, and the culture we choose to reinforce every day.
Mediocrity does not appear suddenly. It begins subtly, almost unnoticed, when lateness becomes routine, when deadlines are treated as flexible suggestions, when responsibility is deflected instead of accepted. It grows when people who take their work seriously are teased for overdoing it or showing off. Gradually, what was once unacceptable becomes normal. What should alarm us instead becomes something we shrug off.
But mediocrity carries a cost for every sector, public or private. Wherever competence is not protected, systems weaken. Wherever shortcuts are celebrated over honest effort, development slows. And wherever excellence is misunderstood or discouraged, young people learn to aim low rather than aspire high.
Excellence, on the other hand, is demanding. It requires discipline, humility, consistency, and the courage to do the right thing even when no one is watching. It relies on workplaces that value performance, families that model responsibility, and communities that encourage people to bring their best forward. Above all, it needs a culture that respects effort, learning, and continuous improvement.
Societies that rise are those that make excellence a national habit, because excellence strengthens every institution and every individual. It inspires innovation, builds trust, and fuels national pride. When a culture refuses to settle for just good enough, its people begin to see what they are truly capable of.
Yet when mediocrity becomes normal, excellence can feel isolating. Those who push harder often stand apart, sometimes even misunderstood. But these are the people who move nations forward, the ones who uphold standards even when others relax them, who refuse to compromise simply to fit in.
My own journey in public service taught me this very early. I joined the Gambia Government in 1983 as a Cadet Economist at the Ministry of Economic Planning and Industrial Development. Those who remember that Ministry know it set the highest standards in professionalism. The culture was built on merit, discipline, and humility. Young officers were not only taught; they were challenged, mentored, and trusted with responsibility from the very beginning. Excellence was not exceptional, it was expected.
Later, as Principal Economist, I was responsible for the compilation, preparation, and analysis of the Government’s Development Budget. I worked under the supervision of Baboucarr Sompo Ceesay, who reported to Mr Alieu Ngum, with Abdou AB Njie serving as our Permanent Secretary. It was a demanding assignment, one that required accuracy, coordination, and a deep commitment to national development.
Part of the process involved presenting and defending the Development Budget before the World Bank and IMF Country Teams. These were rigorous, highly professional sessions. I vividly recall one such meeting with the World Bank on a Saturday, when sectoral submissions arrived unusually late, leaving us with little time to analyse the numbers thoroughly. During the presentation, the World Bank Team Leader, Mr Vladimir Radasik, sensed that I was not entirely comfortable. Being a seasoned professional, firm but fair, and never interested in embarrassing anyone, he called for an adjournment to the following Monday, giving us the time we needed to prepare properly. Present that day was Mrs. Lucy Fye, then Head of the Macroeconomic and Financial Analysis Unit at the Ministry of Finance.
When she returned home, she narrated the incident to her then husband, Serigne Omar Fye. He came to see me immediately. His message was direct, but it came from a place of responsibility: what had happened was unacceptable, and such a lapse should never happen again. He was not criticising me, he was protecting me, and more importantly, safeguarding the integrity of the system.
That episode taught me something profound about how institutions behave when they value excellence. Even our partners acted with respect. Radasik could have exposed or criticised us, but he chose professionalism and support. Lucy and Serigne Omar were guided by duty, not blame. Their concern was not about individuals, but about the credibility of our institutions.
This was a time when ministries, agencies, and partners supported each other. When people corrected one another privately so the institution could stand confidently in public. When mistakes were addressed firmly but constructively. When excellence was a shared responsibility, not the burden of a few.
Reclaiming excellence today requires the same spirit. It begins with honesty about where we are and continues with collective effort to raise our standards again. It calls for families, schools, workplaces, and institutions to reward competence, respect discipline, insist on accountability, and encourage those who choose the harder path of doing things well.
This is a message about national character.We stand at a crossroads: continue allowing standards to fall, or rebuild a culture that believes in quality, professionalism, and responsibility. Excellence is not elitism. It is service. It is pride. It is nation-building.
If we truly want progress, then excellence, not mediocrity, must once again become our shared expectation and our national habit.
