The victims of former president Yahya Jammeh, and indeed all Gambians of conscience, must be extremely disappointed by the recent revelation by the Governor of the Central Bank that some D 1.68 billion have been deposited into the asset-recovery account from the sale of Yahya Jammeh’s forfeited property.
He continued to say that withdrawals of D 1.58 billion over the years had been done. This has reopened old wounds for the victims of that regime. Even more stirring is the confirmation that, as of now, roughly D 101 million remains in that account. When juxtaposed with earlier testimony from former Justice Minister Ba Tambedou, who once said the fund had about D300 million at a given time, one glaring truth emerges: the government’s failure to adequately compensate Jammeh’s victims cannot credibly be blamed on a lack of resources.
Many people who suffered under Jammeh’s brutal rule, including survivors of torture, families of the disappeared, and those arbitrarily detained, must feel deeply let down. Human rights activists have made this point forcefully: although over D 1 billion has been recovered, only a fraction, according to some estimates, as little as D 38 million, has been paid to victims, leaving a sizeable gap.
The anger, which is entirely justified, is compounded by persistent opacity: questions therefore remain about who bought the forfeited properties, at what price, and whether due process was followed. But most importantly where were the funds expended and why not on the victims?
This is more than a matter of bookkeeping: it’s a question of justice. Those who endured abuses under the Jammeh regime were promised reparation. The Truth, Reconciliation and Reparations Commission (TRRC) laid the groundwork for a reparations fund. But when citizens now see that recovered funds are being spent, yet the promised payouts lag badly, they understandably suspect misplaced priorities.
The way forward demands urgent action and systemic reforms. First, transparency must be non-negotiable. The government should promptly publish a full, audited breakdown of how much has been recovered, how the funds have been disbursed, and how much remains. The National Audit Office and Parliament’s special committee should fast-track their investigations, and their reports should be made public without delay.
Second, priority must shift to the victims. The remaining balance, plus future recoveries, must be ring-fenced exclusively for compensation. The reparations commission should be empowered with sufficient resources to disburse payments equitably, efficiently, and in accordance with TRRC recommendations. As advocates have argued, stolen assets should directly benefit those harmed by the corruption.
Third, to restore trust, broader reforms are necessary. The government ought to institutionalise transparency in asset recovery processes—ensuring full oversight, conflict-of-interest checks, and public reporting. Only by demonstrating commitment to accountability can it rebuild public confidence and honour its moral duty to those who suffered.
In the end, this is not merely a financial issue, but a moral one. The billions recovered from Jammeh’s regime were no windfall; they are owed to the Gambian people, especially to the victims who endured unspeakable injustice. Anything less than prioritising their redress risks repeating the very betrayal that fueled the TRRC’s mandate in the first place.
The victims, alongwith all people of conscience, are watching.
