Dear Editor,
As The Gambia continues its march toward modernizing public administration and civic infrastructure, the Ministry of Interior’s latest update on the rollout of the new biometric National Identity Card (GAM ID) marks a significant and welcome milestone. The transition to advanced biometrics is not merely an administrative upgrade; it is a critical step toward secure identification, streamlined public services, and enhanced national security.
The structured phase-by-phase schedule outlined by the ministry demonstrates a commendable effort to ensure regional equity. Beginning in the bustling hubs of the Greater Banjul Area in early August, the enrollment campaign has steadily expanded across the nation — moving through Sibanor and Jarra Soma, reaching the North Bank and Central River Regions, and now extending to Janjangbureh, Basse, and Fatoto. Ensuring that citizens in the easternmost corridors of the country have equal access to identity services is essential for genuine digital inclusion.
Equally crucial to the success of this exercise is clarity regarding documentation and cost. By accepting standard credentials such as passports, birth certificates, or older identity cards, the government has set clear benchmarks for eligibility. Furthermore, retaining traditional verification mechanisms — requiring endorsement from both the alkalo and seyfo for those lacking primary paperwork—strikes a necessary balance between formal state record-keeping and rural realities.
However, a rollout of this scale inevitably faces operational hurdles. Public education remains paramount. Many citizens still require clear guidance on payment procedures at designated banking institutions and the specific fee exemptions available to valid identity card holders. Clear communication at registration sites will be key to avoiding unnecessary delays, long queues, and frustration.
A national biometric ID scheme is only as strong as the trust and accessibility built around it. As the final phases of this ambitious campaign take effect across the country, all stakeholders — from local government authorities to community leaders — must work in unison to ensure every eligible Gambian is registered seamlessly. Securing our national identity is a collective endeavour, and this new chapter deserves the full support and engagement of the public.
Mam Sait Ceesay
Banjul
A nation betrayed: Why have we failed so abysmally as a nation and as a people?
Dear Editor,
Why have we failed so abysmally as a nation and as a people? We had so much potential, and we still have enormous potential, but clearly our national wealth and resources have never been in safe hands.
Economic cartels and a wealthy few have seized control of almost everything Gambian. Our national pride has been severely wounded and diminished. When you look into the faces of many Gambian children and older adults, you see nothing but hunger, disease and malnutrition. Meanwhile, the privileged few at the top continue to milk the state of its wealth and resources without proper scrutiny, checks or balances.
Nutritious meals—and even the fish harvested from our own waters—are now beyond the reach of many Gambians. We are continually living on the breadline.
Our government leaders are not honest with the people, and they do not like to be criticised. They do not want to be audited. They do not want to engage in serious discussions about transparency and accountability.
Despite possessing sufficient knowledge about how our national wealth and resources could be distributed equitably, ethically and fairly, some public officials take pride in having two or three government vehicles to run personal errands between their wives’ homes and their children’s schools. Public resources intended to serve the nation are too often treated as private property.
A nation dependent on remittances.
We have become one of the most remittance-dependent countries in the world. Even within our small communities, you can tell the difference between the living standards of families supported by relatives abroad and those without access to remittances.
Yet we in the diaspora are not allowed to vote.
Despite our enormous contribution to the Gambian economy and the survival of countless families, we are too often treated as enemies of the state—first by the dictatorship and now by the Barrow regime. Our money is welcomed, but our democratic participation is denied. How can this be fair?
Visit Sukuta Market, for example, and try to buy enough food to fill a basket for a family of ten. It is painful, desperate and humiliating. In our local communities, you do not need to conduct an elaborate survey to recognise that poverty levels are dangerously high. Poverty is degrading the structures and mechanisms of family and community life, leaving many people in a perilous situation.
Imagine waking up with a single D50 note in your pocket while your hungry children and wife look up to you, expecting you to put food on the table. It is dehumanising. It is disgraceful. No family should be forced to live under such conditions while a privileged minority continues to enrich itself from public resources.
Our wealth can be distributed fairly.
If our nation’s wealth were distributed equitably, we could measure poverty levels accurately and establish social-protection programmes to ensure no family is left hungry, destitute, or vulnerable.
The Gambia is not without resources. What we lack is honest, compassionate and accountable leadership. Our problem is not simply national poverty; it is the unfair distribution of opportunities, resources and political power.
We must act now. We must change the status quo by ushering in a new government on 5 December 2026—one that respects the people, protects public resources and understands that leadership is a sacred public trust.
The future of our children, our older adults and our nation depend on the choices we make today. I rest my case.
Salifu Manneh
USA