As defections rock Ousainu Darboe’s party, President Barrow’s camp is cheering too soon. Talib Bensouda’s rise could drain the very bloc that gave NPP victory in 2021 and turn 2026 into a political earthquake
By Saikou Cham
Over the past few weeks, The Gambia’s political landscape has been jolted by an unexpected twist characterised by a wave of defections from the main opposition United Democratic Party (UDP) to Kanifing Municipal Council (KMC) Mayor Talib Ahmed Bensouda’s newly launched Unite for Change movement. Bensouda, who until recently served as the UDP’s national organising secretary, resigned from his position in the party to form the new movement.
On the surface, these departures, including influential UDP figures, appear to signal a major internal implosion within the opposition party. The narrative pushed by the ruling National People’s Party (NPP) and its online foot soldiers is that UDP is “finished,” and that President Adama Barrow’s re-election in December 2026 is now guaranteed. For them, this internal rupture in the opposition looks like a gift from the political gods.
But beneath the noise, a more complex reality is unfolding, one that should make the ruling party far more anxious than triumphant. It is the NPP, not the UDP, that should be losing sleep over Bensouda’s rise.
To understand why, one must revisit the 2021 presidential election and the myth of a “rigged” victory. Despite UDP’s widespread allegations of vote manipulation, there’s little credible evidence that Barrow’s victory was rigged in a way that materially changed the outcome. Instead, my conviction is that his landslide was delivered by a silent majority or Gambians who neither supported the NPP nor believed in Barrow’s leadership but voted strategically to block UDP leader Ousainou Darboe from taking power
This third force, a broad coalition of undecided, anti-UDP and disillusioned voters, swung the election decisively in Barrow’s favour. Many were fence-sitters and urban sceptics who would otherwise have abstained or supported Halifa Sallah, Essa Faal or other minor candidates. Between the president and Darboe, they saw Barrow as the lesser of two evils. Their motivation was not loyalty but aversion, a protest vote against UDP.
It was this group that handed Barrow a second term, not the NPP’s thin ideological base.
A new home for the disillusioned
Yet, four years later, the same bloc is adrift. Disillusioned by runaway corruption, unbridled patronage, spiralling cost of living and deepening public despair, these voters are searching for a new political home. They are not NPP loyalists. They are simply Gambians who want an alternative that feels modern and untainted by the old feuds of UDP vs NPP.
Talib Bensouda’s movement sets out to offer them a modern, clean and generationally relevant platform that neither NPP nor UDP can claim.
Unite for Change movement is already projecting itself as the next-generation option, led by someone who combines youth appeal, technocratic credibility and local governance experience. Within days of its launch, the movement began to attract familiar faces from that 2021 “silent majority.”
This is why NPP’s public celebration of UDP’s internal rift is dangerously short-sighted. The defections may hurt UDP’s morale, but the bigger electoral wound will likely be inflicted on the NPP. Because the very coalition that rescued Barrow in 2021 is now gravitating toward Bensouda. His movement effectively drains support not only from UDP but also from the NPP’s accidental coalition of reluctant voters.
That should terrify Barrow. His 2021 victory margin was built on that floating demographic, not on deep-rooted loyalty. With corruption scandals mounting, living costs soaring and unemployment biting, the NPP’s electoral foundation is eroding fast.
The rise of a credible third force
Bensouda, a young, articulate mayor with executive experience and cross-generational appeal, represents something rare in Gambian politics. His movement has emerged at a time when faith in both major parties is collapsing. For many Gambians, Barrow’s government has become synonymous with corruption, nepotism and chronic mismanagement. The NPP’s grip on power rests almost entirely on incumbency and access to state resources.
For others, the UDP has become a symbol of generational stagnation.
Bensouda’s pitch, a clean break from the old guard, is simple but powerful. In a country where 65 percent of the population is under 30, his campaign’s promise of renewal resonates far beyond party structures. He has the energy, funding networks and digital literacy to mount a formidable national campaign, one that could merge urban youth enthusiasm with middle-class pragmatism.
But here’s the political paradox at play. If Bensouda manages to convince this silent force that he is viable and that he can actually win, he could transform the 2026 race into a genuine political earthquake.
However, the danger for him is psychological. If voters perceive him as another “third candidate” like Essa Faal in 2021 — popular but unelectable — history could repeat itself. The same voters might once again vote for Barrow, not because they believe in him, but to block Darboe.
That calculus will define the 2026 race. The silent group, more than any political base, will likely decide who leads the country next.
For UDP, a painful but necessary reset is needed
The UDP’s crisis is undeniable. Losing some of its most energetic young figures to Talib Bensouda’s Unite for Change movement has obviously shaken the party.
For decades, UDP has defined itself as the moral and historical counterweight to dictatorship, tracing its legitimacy to its years of resistance under Yahya Jammeh’s repressive rule. That legacy earned the party deep respect and a loyal base. But since the fall of Jammeh in 2016/2017, the same resistance identity that once unified the party has hardened into a kind of political orthodoxy, one that prizes loyalty over innovation and emotion over strategy.
Critics say the party has become too angry, too rigid and too intolerant of dissent. The UDP’s online activism, while formidable, has also become one of its biggest liabilities. Across social media platforms, the party’s digital warriors are often accused of creating a climate of fear and defensiveness rather than persuasion.
The recent defections have dented morale, exposed internal rifts and reignited long-standing questions about the party’s succession and ability to adapt to a changing political landscape.
Still, UDP should not be condemned to death. Its national structure remains unmatched; its roots run deep in every region, from the rural strongholds of Lower River Region to urban constituencies in Serrekunda and West Coast. The party commands loyalty built over three decades, loyalty forged not by patronage but by shared struggle.
If UDP can modernise its message, elevate a new generation of leaders to complement Darboe’s legacy and connect with undecided voters disillusioned by Barrow’s failures, it can still win the 2026 election by benefitting from a three-way split. The math may be tough, but the foundation remains solid.
NPP’s existential dilemma
The NPP faces a far more perilous future. Unlike UDP, it has no organic roots or ideological identity. It is a coalition of convenience, a patronage machine bound together by power and money. If Barrow remains the 2026 flagbearer, he carries the baggage of economic crisis, corruption fatigue and public disillusionment. If he steps aside, the party lacks any figure capable of uniting its factions or inspiring a new generation of voters.
This makes Unite for Change uniquely threatening. Bensouda doesn’t need to win outright to weaken NPP; he simply needs to split the non-UDP vote. Every vote he takes from the protest bloc that once backed Barrow pushes NPP closer to defeat.
And if Bensouda does gain enough traction to look electable, the ruling party’s survival prospects could collapse entirely.
In the noisy celebration of UDP’s crisis, the NPP may be laughing but the joke, soon enough, may be on them.
