Tribalism is not a whisper in The Gambia anymore. It is spoken in taxis, in WhatsApp groups, in marketplaces, and increasingly in our politics. It is the quiet arithmetic by which jobs are filled, contracts are awarded, and loyalties are measured. If government does not confront it head-on, it will do what it has done elsewhere: hollow out institutions, poison elections, and turn citizens against one another.
We have no time for euphemisms. Tribalism is the practice of placing ethnic identity above national interest. When it enters governance, competence stops mattering. When it enters elections, manifestos stop mattering. What matters then is “us versus them.” That is not democracy. That is division wearing the mask of democracy.
A country built on coexistence cannot afford to normalise favoritism. Every time a public appointment is read through an ethnic lens, trust erodes. Every time a development project is defended or attacked because of who it benefits, not what it delivers, accountability dies. Every time politicians mobilise along ethnic lines, the centre cannot hold.
The Gambia’s strength has always been its small size and big heart. We speak different languages but share one flag. We pray differently but bury our dead with the same grief. Tribalism threatens that compact. It tells a young Gambian that opportunity depends on surname, not skill. It tells a civil servant that survival depends on patronage, not performance. It tells a voter that the country belongs to some, not all.
This is not a problem civil society can shame away, or the media can editorialise away. The government holds the levers of power, and it must use them.
Appointments, promotions, and procurement must be based on published criteria, open competition, and verifiable records. Any minister, director, or agency head found to be stacking institutions along ethnic lines must be removed, publicly. Accountability must have a face.
Political parties and candidates who campaign on ethnic appeals should be named, sanctioned, and denied state resources. The IEC, in collaboration with the Ministry of Justice and the Attorney General’s Chambers, must enforce existing laws against hate speech and incitement. Freedom of expression is not a licence to divide.
Curriculum reform should teach Gambian history as one story, not separate ones. National service, sports, and youth programmes should deliberately mix regions and communities. Public broadcasting must be used to amplify stories of shared progress, not grievance.
Publish the demographic breakdown of public appointments and contracts. Sunlight is the best disinfectant. When citizens can see patterns, they can demand corrections.
Confronting tribalism does not mean pretending differences do not exist. It means refusing to weaponise them. It means building a politics where a Wolof, Mandinka, Fula, Jola, Serahule, and Aku can compete for the same job, vote for the same candidate, and be judged by the same standard: what they will do for The Gambia.
Leaders must say it plainly and repeatedly: there is no ethnic shortcut to development. There is no tribe that can build roads alone, fund hospitals alone, or secure borders alone. The problems we face — youth unemployment, corruption, weak health and education systems — do not ask for your ethnicity before they hit you.
With elections approaching and mobilisation intensifying, the temptation to retreat into ethnic enclaves will grow. Government must anticipate it and meet it with policy, enforcement, and moral clarity.
The choice is simple. We can manage tribalism, or it will manage us. We can build a republic of citizens, or we can slide into a collection of tribes.
For the sake of the young people organising in Fass Omar Saho, Fatoto, Basse, Salikenni, Sukuta, Lamin, and Brikama. For the sake of the teachers, nurses, and farmers who want services, not slogans. For the sake of a Gambia that outlives all of us — government must confront tribalism head-on.
Not next year. Not after the next crisis. Now.