In the village of Niodior, an Island in Senegal, crime, especially family feud is almost zero, because even the smallest of children are caused to recognise their ancestral history and how they're many, perhaps different fruits, but of one tree. The kids there have a playtime song that reminds them of their ascending line of parentage, and it goes like this:
'Who are you? I'm Omar. Omar who? Tida's Omar. Which Tida? Aja Tumbulu's Tida. Tumbulu who? Ntu (Bintou) Ceesay's Tumbulu... etc. And interestingly, they all end up having at least one common (ancestral) denominator.
How many Gambians can count their lineage beyond the mother of their grandmother? See, that's our problem: the recognition of family is what's broken round here. So we fight against those whose welfare we should be promoting. Today, a typical Gambian family unit has shrunken to consist of two parents (a mother and a father) and their children, and we think that's Toubabeh, whilst the Toubabs are hijacking ours; look who goes to grandma's for Christmas and Thanksgiving.
So I repeat what I once said on here: we need to demonstrate tact and grace in dealing with one another, knowing that we (Gambians) are even more connected than it's inferred by the 'six degrees of separation' theory. And if we pay attention, that belief is made firmer anytime you go to some function and meet up with elderly folks and they introduce you to some family unit that you never thought you had any relation with.
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