Dear President Barrow,
I write this letter on behalf of many well-meaning Gambians.
The last time I addressed you formally as President of the Republic of The Gambia was in 2019, when you reneged on your promise of a three-year transitional period. I sincerely hope I will never have to write a similar letter to you again.
I wrote such letters to former President Jammeh and received death threats from some of his agents and supporters. Had I been politically mature during President Jawara’s era, I would have done the same. My intention today is no different, to caution, not condemn.
So, I will keep this message simple, clear, and direct:
Mr. President, leave the Gambian people before the Gambian people leave you.
I do not say this because I doubt your character. Rather, I say it because I hope your legacy will be remembered not only for doing the right thing, but for doing things right.
In your recent interview with a TV station, you announced your intention to run for a third term, not because you desire it, but because members of your party have begged you to do so.
Mr. President, let me jog your memory with some recent Gambian history:
1. In 1991, some of the same people who knelt and begged President Jawara not to step down later rushed to State House in 1996, crying and pleading with Yahya Jammeh to stay in power after he overthrew Jawara’s government post the two year transitional period he had set forth with his military junta.
2. Many of the technocrats who drafted decrees and policies that enabled Jammeh’s regime stood before the Janneh Commission and the TRRC commissions your government established claiming they acted under duress. Among them was Edward Singhateh, Jammeh’s co-coupist and former vice president, along with others who now serve in your administration.
3. Soldiers who committed atrocities on Jammeh’s behalf swore under oath at the TRRC that they were merely “following orders” and bore no responsibility for their actions.
4. Your own Deputy Speaker, Seedy Njie, the same man who swore that over his dead body would your coalition government take office in The Gambia, forcing you to be sworn in on foreign soil in Senegal, now calls Jammeh a “dictator” and sings your praises.
5. The same citizens who once lined the streets to welcome Jammeh, dancing and singing his praises, lined up again from the airport to your residence to celebrate your return after the 2016 impasse. Even the “Asobi” wearing “Yayee Kompins” and “Bayee Kompins” of Jammeh’s regime now parade as your most die-hard supporters.
6. And the musicians, those who composed sweet melody songs and praised Jammeh with every title imaginable are now busy composing new melodies in your name.
Mr. President, I am not recounting these events to say Gambians are bad people or that your supporters are disloyal. No. I am sharing them to warn you.
Gambians will support their leader. They will sing for you. They will pledge loyalty and, for a time, they may even make you feel like a demi-god.
But history has shown us that they will also turn their backs if you overstay your welcome. And if you are forced out unceremoniously, they will walk away without looking back just as they did to your predecessors.
So, Mr. President, serve with dignity and honor. But when the time comes leave before the people leave you. Leave while they are still crying and begging for you to stay. Leave, even if some of them fall to their knees, as Mandela did for South Africa. Exit the stage while the applause is at its highest Mr. President.
Because, Mr. President, they will beg. Some will weep. But leave anyway.
The purpose of this letter is not to undermine your work or your achievements. Rather, it is to remind you:
• of the vision you set forward in 2016,
• of the promises you made to serve no more than two terms, and
• of the history that swallowed the legacies of those who came before you.
I know you may be tempted to think: That will never be me.
You may believe that you will not share the fate of Jawara or Jammeh because your people love you and you are different.
But remember, Jawara thought the same.
Jammeh thought the same.
And recently, in Senegal, your brother Macky Sall thought the same.
I write not out of malice or envy, but from a place of duty and love for our country. If my words offend you, blame my imperfect delivery, not my intentions.
I truly wish you the best for the remainder of your term. May your fate be different from that of your predecessors.
Happy 60th Independence Anniversary, Mr. President.
We have a nation to build.
God bless The Gambia, and God bless Africa.
Affably yours,
Saikou Camara
