What is poverty in The Gambia?

During our trip to The Gambia we saw countless incredible things. Incredible both in the better and lesser sense of the word and the binding thought, the connection between most of the things we saw, was poverty.

And thus for me, these questions were incepted:

What is poverty? What is the meaning of poverty in a country like The Gambia?

I believe that all of us at some given point of our lives have faced poverty in some form or another but it isn’t until I was in The Gambia that I started to think about its true meaning.

Poverty for me, thus far, was either a state of mind or a marginal thing which is faced by a small number of people who often do not desire to escape it. And that is how most of us in developed countries see it.

In this small African country though, poverty is the rule, not the exception.

Taking into account the median salary, people here live with around 16.700 GMD or approximately 290 Euro a month. To put it in more practical terms, that means living with under 10 euro a day in a country where the minimum salary is (as of 2020) 2.170 GMD which is approximately 37,8 Euro or around 1,25 Euro a day.

I’d like to let that sink in for a while.

That means that for at least half of the population, parents of oftentimes numerous families need to provide for themselves, their children and their elders with something between 1,25 and 10 Euro a day.

The situation is so dire in some places that in effect The Gambia is sometimes referred to as one of the 4th World Countries. A doubtful honour to be sure.

It strikes me how, in such poverty, options are so very limited and everyone simply needs to make do.

Whereas in developed countries we take for granted having running (potable) water, a functioning plumbing system, a widespread public school system, public transportation, pharmacies and hospitals and so many other basic things, here none of this is obvious at all.

Potable water is not available. Plumbing is often a luxury. Outside of the cities, schools are spread out and often the nearest one is many kilometres away. Public transportation is in its infancy. Pharmacies and hospitals are even more sparse than schools and have very limited access to medicine...

And yet, even in the face of need and even with the possibility to turn to criminality as an easy way out, the Gambians choose to be the smiling coast! They choose to have a country that is safe and stable.

But how do they do it? How do people actually survive in such conditions?

Well, from what we could see, they do it by growing up fast and being productive even as a child. They do it by being practical and they do it by making do with what is freely available around them.

Though it is actually a small country, the smiling coast is visibly divided into different areas with different realities. Thus to understand poverty here, one needs to understand each of these realities somewhat separately.

From what we could see, The Gambia has (at least) 3 distinct areas. The touristic area around Bakau and some of the shore, the rural areas of the inland and the more urban areas like the capital Banjul and Brikama. In each of them, poverty is both understood and dealt with in different ways.

In the touristic areas being poor means catering to the rich.

It means taking low paid jobs in fancy hotels that are owned by foreign capital. It means teenage girls selling fruits and vegetables to tourists on the beach. It means becoming a “bumster” and living off of “services offered” to tourists. Services which include “taxi” driving, providing tours and being a general fixer for any kind of needs. It also means prostitution and selling one’s body to make a living.

Poverty in the touristic areas means doing all of the above and going back home for the evening to live in the slums of Katchikaly with its lack of infrastructure, its mosquitoes and its open-air sewers.

One of the discussions I had with A was regarding all of this and if it is, in fact, a form of modern-day slavery where the black locals cater to the white foreigners.

I personally have mixed feelings about that. It did not appear to me that any of the people there were being forcefully kept and made to live like this and moreover the servitude was to the rich, not the white. Nevertheless, it is difficult to imagine that someone being born into such poverty, being offered such limited access to studies and mobility could ever effectively escape this vicious cycle. I leave you to your own appreciation.

In the rural areas though, poverty is a different story. One could say that poverty is communal.

Here people take advantage of the gifts of nature by becoming farmers, by collecting as many fruits (mango season provides for months!) and vegetables as is possible and by building and clinging onto their communities for mutual support.

We were at a place called Kafuta, a relatively small town of about 5.000 people, which is located just mildly upstream from the river estuary at Banjul but very far from the beaten track of tourism or from any real form of industrialization. Here people are simple and live in simple terms. Every day the ladies gather around a given corner of a street and mount a market. They sell their produce by the unit, not by the kilo, and share a broad smile with their neighbours. Not going to the market at any given day means having the community worry about you and as to why you did not show. If anything is wrong, people try to help. It is just how it is.

At Kafuta, the “bushboys” also work as hunter-gatherers and try and pick up any kind of bush meat they can find. It might not be pleasant to us but for them it is food and it is welcomed.

As pictures are worth more than words, see for yourself an example with a squirrel which quite frankly looked dead for days...

At Kafuta, once more, things are not entirely evident. You walk around the village and see at any given time of the day a bunch of people just hanging around, quite often just laying around, and not doing much. My western mind immediately goes into the judgmental mode and wonders whether they are just being lazy. But then again, what do I really know of this reality?

What do I really understand of being born into a community that appears to have no real ambition to industrialize and develop itself? What do I really know of a place that offers extremely limited access to studies to the point where they are real luxuries? That offers no real opportunities to move up in life as there simply is no such thing available?

What do I comprehend of a place that values spending time as a family over working overtime? That lends a hand to their neighbour without a second thought?

It was here, by the riverside, that we also experienced what true compassion is.

We were trying to enjoy the afternoon by the riverside with a bath and while doing so a small child approached us. Smiling as they always do, he just wanted to say hello and look at the toubab. He must have been maybe 5 years old and though he seemed happy, he was quite visibly not from a very wealthy family and likely experienced not having what to eat occasionally. After trying to communicate with us for a while and disappearing for a moment, he came back with the same beautiful smile as well as a cup of juice and a small pack of perhaps four crackers which he insisted on sharing with us.

Think about it. This is a small child with holes in his shirt in a village in The Gambia which was insisting to share what little he had with us just minutes after seeing us and for no apparent reason other than compassion. How amazingly beautiful and selfless is that?

How many children do you know that would do the same? Not all that many I am sure.

Yes, these beautiful smiling people were poor but they also appeared to be happy and most of all proud of what little they in fact have. Perhaps, in their lack of much in terms of worldly possessions, they have become smarter than all of us living the rat race…

And then there is Banjul and the “larger” cities.

Banjul, as the capital, promised to be the more developed area and so we decided to see what it had to offer. Well… it was definitely something.

It felt busy, chaotic, dirty and somehow half-finished.

This is a place that offers opportunities to the Gambians and in which all kinds of professions (particularly in trade) can be had but it is also a bit of a shocking sight for western eyes.

As you walk through the fish market area of Albert market you realize what is the real standard of living and how conditions that for us are unthinkable are just standard here. Really, the sight and smell of the fish being sold in the market stalls and being kept with rock salt were an experience in and of itself…

A mere couple of streets away from the park where parades are held (the independence celebration happened to coincide with our visit), you find half-finished homes next to what I can only describe as a half-finished plumbing system where every few meters you see holes with still fetid water.

As much as you do in fact see some nice neighbourhoods and blocks of houses which do seem to be in good condition, you also see trash literally all over the place.

And that is what strikes me the most about these urban areas. The price that needs to be paid.

For some to find better jobs, for some to get the access to better studies, for the country to have an engine of the economy, many make huge efforts but most of all, it is nature that suffers through prolonged and almost uncontrolled pollution.

It strikes me as well that ecology is a thing for the rich and a luxury which is not realistic for most. I mean, if I was struggling to have my basic needs fulfilled I doubt I would be interested in it either.

And yet, despite all the widespread pollution, all of the different struggles in any of the areas of the country, despite the generalized lack of infrastructure and despite limited access to studies, the people of this country have chosen to be the smiling coast!

Think about how extraordinary that is!

The Gambia has shown us many things. It showed us how poor people can actually be. It showed us how privileged we are for being born in developed European countries. It showed us once again that you do not have to have much to make strangers feel welcome. It showed us that friendliness needn’t correlate to wealth. Most of all it showed us that even those who are underprivileged can make positive choices and be proud of them.

I wish that The Gambia continues to be a peaceful and safe place. I hope that it manages to rise above their current situation and that all Gambians have the same opportunities that we have had in our countries.

But most of all, I wish that The Gambia remains the smiling coast!