This is where the real crisis of Gambian politics begins.
We have become a society in which political affiliation can sometimes outweigh reason, partisan loyalty can silence truth, and the legitimate criticism of a leader can be interpreted as hostility towards an entire community. Too often, the moment a politician is questioned, supporters rush to defend the individual rather than examine the evidence. They search for excuses before seeking explanations. They attack the critic before investigating the allegation. They celebrate the achievements of their preferred leaders while conveniently forgetting their failures, yet condemn the same failures when committed by political opponents.
This is not political maturity. It is the dangerous abandonment of independent thought.
And a nation that abandons independent thought eventually becomes vulnerable to the ambitions of those who understand how to manipulate its emotions.
The politician is not your messiah
One of the most destructive illusions in our political clture is the tendency to treat politicians as saviours rather than public servants.
A politician is not a messiah descending from the heavens to rescue a helpless population. A political party is not a sacred institution beyond criticism. An election victory is not a certificate of moral perfection. It is a mandate granted by citizens, and every mandate carries an obligation to serve the public interest.
Yet, in our political conversations, one might think that questioning a leader is an act of betrayal. Some supporters behave as though their political identity would collapse if they admitted that their preferred candidate had made a mistake. Others defend questionable decisions with such determination that one is left wondering whether they are defending the country or protecting a personal investment i#n political power.
Why should a citizen be more afraid of offending a politician than of watching the country struggle?
Why should a young Gambian be expected to remain silent about unemployment, inadequate opportunities, rising living costs or concerns about public services simply because the government in power belongs to a party that citizen supports?
Why should an ordinary person sacrifice the right to demand accountability merely because a political leader once visited their community, attended a family ceremony, offered assistance or delivered a project?
Public service is not a personal favour. Government is not a private charity. The resources of the nation are not the personal property of those entrusted with political authority.
When public resources are used for public purposes, citizens have every right to demand transparency, competence and measurable results. Gratitude for a particular achievement must never become a permanent waiver of accountability.
The day Gambians begin to confuse political loyalty with national loyalty is the day politicians begin to realise that they can fail the country and still retain the unconditional protection of their supporters.
Our political loyalty is becoming more powerful than our national conscience
Consider the contradiction that repeatedly emerges in partisan debates.
When an opponent makes a mistake, the mistake becomes evidence of incompetence, dishonesty or unfitness for leadership. When a preferred leader makes a similar mistake, supporters suddenly discover the language of patience, context, historical circumstances and political sabotage.
When the opposition demands accountability, some government supporters dismiss the criticism as hatred. When government supporters demand accountability from the opposition, they describe it as patriotism.
But truth does not change its character according to the political party of the person responsible.
Corruption, if established by credible evidence, does not become acceptable because the accused belongs to your party. Incompetence does not become competence because the person responsible speaks your language, comes from your region or shares your political history. An abuse of public office does not become legitimate because the individual involved helped your community in the past.
Wrongdoing does not acquire a national flag simply because it is committed by someone you admire.
If we condemn dishonesty in one political camp, we must condemn it in every political camp. If we demand transparency from one administration, we must demand the same standard from every administration. If we expect opposition leaders to answer difficult questions, we must expect government leaders to do likewise.
Otherwise, our demands for accountability are not principles. They are political weapons that we use against our opponents while protecting our allies.
And that is precisely how double standards become normalised.
Are we voting for performance or punishing ourselves with history?
Here is the question that should trouble every politically conscious Gambian: Should we support a political party because of what it accomplished in the past, or should we judge it by what it is doing, what it has failed to do and what it credibly promises to accomplish?
History matters. No serious citizen should pretend otherwise. The historical experiences of a nation can teach valuable lessons about leadership, sacrifice, democratic struggle and the consequences of political decisions. A country’s past must be remembered, studied and discussed honestly.
However, history should serve as a compass, not a prison.
A party that once contributed positively to national development does not receive an unlimited licence to disappoint future generations. A leader who once demonstrated courage does not become immune to criticism. Previous achievements deserve recognition, but they cannot permanently substitute for present performance.
Equally, a party that once failed should not be condemned forever without considering whether its leadership, policies and conduct have genuinely changed.
Democracy must provide room for evidence, reassessment and responsible political change.
The past can explain why a citizen supports a political party. It cannot, by itself, prove that the party deserves continued support.
If a political organisation asks citizens to vote on the strength of its historical achievements, citizens should also ask what it has learned from its past failures. If a candidate invokes previous sacrifices, citizens should ask what concrete plans exist for today’s problems. If a leader speaks about national transformation, citizens should demand credible objectives, transparent implementation and results that can be independently assessed.
We cannot continue to mortgage our children’s future to the political memories of their parents.
The young Gambian who is struggling to find meaningful employment cannot pay rent with the historical achievements of a political party. A family facing financial pressure cannot feed its children with campaign slogans. A student seeking quality education cannot build a future on political nostalgia alone.
History deserves respect. The present demands accountability. The future requires competence.
A political party must never become so powerful in the hearts of its supporters that it becomes unnecessary for that party to prove its worth.
The tragedy of the ordinary Gambian
The greatest victims of blind political loyalty are often ordinary citizens themselves.
It is the market vendor who struggles to keep a small business alive. It is the young graduate who searches for an opportunity to contribute to society. It is the parent who worries about the cost of educating a child. It is the farmer who needs reliable support, the worker who expects fair treatment, and the family that depends on functioning public institutions.
These citizens may disagree about which party offers the best leadership. That disagreement is entirely legitimate. What is not legitimate is allowing political competition to destroy our shared determination to demand better outcomes from whoever holds power.
When citizens spend more energy defending politicians than defending their own interests, something fundamental has gone wrong.
When a person can spend hours insulting another citizen over party affiliation but cannot spend five minutes examining a public budget, questioning a policy or demanding an explanation for an unfulfilled promise, we must ask whether political participation has become a substitute for genuine civic engagement.
When young people inherit political hostility before they inherit a meaningful understanding of public accountability, we risk reproducing the very divisions that prevent collective progress.
And when citizens regard criticism as an enemy of development, they make it easier for poor decisions to survive without scrutiny.
A country does not become stronger because everyone agrees with its leaders. It becomes stronger when citizens can disagree without fear, question without intimidation, and insist on accountability without being treated as enemies of the state.
Patriotism is not measured by the intensity with which we defend a politician. It is measured by our willingness to protect the public interest, even when doing so is politically inconvenient.
The most dangerous voter is not the uninformed voter alone
An uninformed voter can be educated. A politically disengaged citizen can be encouraged to participate. A person who has made an honest mistake can reconsider their position when presented with credible evidence.
But what happens when a voter encounters evidence of failure and chooses to defend it anyway because acknowledging the truth would embarrass their political camp?
What happens when facts become less important than faction, when evidence is dismissed because it comes from an opponent, and when the messenger is attacked so that the message never has to be examined?
That is a far more serious democratic problem.
The issue is not that citizens must agree on every political question. They will not, and they should not. The issue is whether we are prepared to apply consistent standards to the leaders we support.
Blind loyalty transforms the voter from an independent participant in democracy into a permanent defender of political interests. It reduces elections to emotional contests in which victory matters more than competence, party identity matters more than public welfare, and defeating an opponent matters more than improving the country.
This is how political leaders can become insulated from the consequences of their decisions.
It is also how citizens can unknowingly become accomplices in preserving the very conditions they complain about.
To be clear, responsibility is not equal in every circumstance. Political leaders and public officials carry direct obligations that ordinary citizens do not. Those who exercise public power must answer for their decisions and conduct. Voters must not be used as convenient scapegoats for failures committed by those in office.
Nevertheless, citizens have a responsibility to scrutinise power, evaluate evidence, participate peacefully in democratic processes and refuse to reward persistent failure simply because it comes from a familiar political camp.
We cannot demand responsible leadership while refusing to practise responsible citizenship.
The Gambian we must become
The Gambia needs a political culture in which citizens can support a party without surrendering their judgement, admire a leader without worshipping them, and recognise an achievement without ignoring a failure.
We need voters who ask difficult questions before elections and continue asking them after the results are announced.
We need political supporters who can say, without shame, that their preferred candidate has made a mistake and must correct it.
We need opposition voices that criticise constructively, government supporters who demand results, journalists who investigate responsibly, institutions that operate independently, and public officials who understand that authority comes with obligations.
Above all, we need citizens who recognise that our national future is bigger than any individual politician and more important than any political party.
No party owns The Gambia. No politician owns the loyalty of an entire generation. No government is above scrutiny, and no opposition movement should be beyond examination.
The flag belongs to all Gambians. The country’s resources belong to the nation under its laws. The democratic process belongs to the people, and the future belongs to generations that deserve opportunities beyond the limits of today’s political rivalries.
We must learn to separate our love for our country from our attachment to those who govern it.
Sometimes, the most patriotic thing a supporter can do is criticise their own party. Sometimes, the most responsible thing a voter can do is reject a candidate they once admired. Sometimes, the clearest demonstration of political maturity is admitting that the other side has made a valid argument.
Such actions are not necessarily signs of disloyalty. They can be evidence of a conscience that remains independent.
My final question to The Gambia
As our country approaches another important electoral moment, every citizen should undertake an honest examination of their political convictions.
If your preferred party fails to deliver, will you demand answers?
If its leaders are credibly accused of wrongdoing, will you support a fair and impartial investigation?
If its promises remain unfulfilled, will you ask for evidence of progress?
If an opposing party presents a better policy, will you examine it on its merits?
And if the evidence contradicts what you have always believed, will you have the courage to change your mind?
These are not questions designed to humiliate any political camp. They are questions designed to strengthen the democratic conscience of our nation.
The Gambia does not need citizens who agree with everything their leaders say. It needs citizens who think critically, act responsibly and defend principles consistently.
We must stop asking only which politician deserves our vote. We must also ask what kind of political culture our votes are helping to sustain.
Because the real measure of democracy is not simply whether citizens can choose their leaders. It is whether citizens retain the courage to hold those leaders accountable after making that choice.
Let us remember this: politicians may come and go, governments may rise and fall, and political parties may change their names, promises and leadership. But the consequences of our collective decisions will remain with the Gambian people long after the campaign banners have been removed.
If we continue to defend political failure because it comes from our own side, we should not be surprised when our own side has little incentive to succeed.
The most important question is not whether you support the government or the opposition. It is whether your political loyalty has made you less willing to demand the future you deserve.
So, let the debate begin.
Should Gambians vote according to a political party’s history, regardless of its present performance, or should every party and politician earn the people’s confidence through measurable results, integrity and accountability?
And here is the question that may be even more uncomfortable:
If your political party is part of the problem, do you love The Gambia enough to admit it?
A nation cannot progress when its citizens demand accountability from everyone except their own leaders.
The Gambia deserves better than blind loyalty. It deserves an informed electorate, principled leadership and a citizenry courageous enough to put the national interest above partisan affection.
Our first loyalty must be to The Gambia. Our second must be to truth. Political parties must earn everything else.
