By Ebrima Mbaye
As the crescent moon signals the nearing end of Ramadan, the bustling towns of Serrekunda and Brikama have descended into a frenetic whirlwind of last-minute shopping and gridlocked streets. With Koriteh, the joyous celebration marking Eid al-Fitr, just days away, Gambians are braving scorching heat, suffocating crowds, and unrelenting traffic to ensure their families are ready for the festive occasion.
The roads, once simple thoroughfares, have morphed into chaotic battlegrounds where patience wears thin and tempers run high. Along the Mamadi Manjang Highway, a lifeline connecting the Greater Banjul Area, traffic crawls at a snail’s pace by midday. Overpacked minibuses—locally dubbed *gele-gele*—and taxis groan under the weight of passengers, while conductors shout destinations into the clamor. Some weary commuters abandon the wait altogether, opting to trek on foot with children in tow, their eyes dazzled by vibrant Eid outfits lining shopfronts.
In Brikama, the country’s largest commercial hub, the market square is a scene of pandemonium. Drivers jostle for space as street vendors spill onto the asphalt, hawking goods with relentless cries of “Come and buy!” Motorcyclists, known as *jakarr*, weave daringly through the throng, narrowly dodging pedestrians. Police officers blow whistles and wave arms in a valiant but often futile attempt to tame the disorder, their efforts drowned out by a cacophony of horns and haggling voices.
Inside the markets, the air is thick with the mingled aromas of raw meat, ground pepper, and perspiration. Shoppers—mostly women—bargain fiercely in Wolof, Mandinka, and Jola, clutching lengthy lists of Eid essentials: rice, meat, onions, and the cherished wonjo for sweetened holiday drinks. Children tag along, clutching plastic bags stuffed with new clothes and trinkets, their excitement palpable despite the chaos. For tailors, the pressure is unrelenting; sewing machines buzz nonstop as they race to complete last-minute orders under the watchful eyes of anxious customers.
Yet beneath the exhaustion lies an electric anticipation. Parents trudge home at dusk, arms laden with shopping bags and hearts buoyed by the promise of Koriteh’s festivities. In Brikamaba, today’s “Lumo” market day amplifies the frenzy, drawing crowds from the Central River Region (CRR) and Upper River Region (URR). Young boys maneuver donkey carts through the bustle, earning a few dalasis while preparing for their own celebrations.
For Gambians, Koriteh is more than a feast or a showcase of new attire—it’s a testament to endurance and community spirit. The road to this sacred day may be paved with trials, but as the horns fade and the streets settle, the resilience of the people shines through, ready to embrace a celebration hard-earned and deeply cherished.
