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I have always been inspired to visit historical places. By the age of 15, I had already travelled most part of the Gambia. The smallest country in mainland Africa with a total boundary length of 510 miles, 31 miles at its widest point of which of which 50 miles is coastline and a population of 2.1 million. The capital city Banjul is located on the Atlantic coast. The country’s present boundaries were defined in 1889 after an agreement between the United Kingdom and France. It was colonized by the British and gained its independence on 18th of February 1965. The river Gambia which is 700 miles rising in the republic of Guinea flowing west ward across Senegal through the Gambia is joined by numerous creeks called Bolongs which flows in it from the south. The width of the river valley varies considerably along its course. Dense mangrove swamps fringe the lower river for 60 miles inland after which fresh water swamps and salt flats on low-lying stretches alternate with dense clumps of small trees shrubs that line the cliffs. On the higher slopes of the riverbank, swamps and shrubs give place to parkland and tall grass. The wild oil palms grow along the valley bottom. The river abounds in fish and river creatures including crocodiles and hippopotamus. Over 400 different species of birds could be sighted along the river, which runs through the whole length of the Gambia. A field excursion trip was the most exciting event to look forward to going to high school. After years of looking forward to it, my main concern was if my parents would allow me to participate. A deal was made. I had to pass my grade 10th exam with flying colors to earn the trip of my lifetime. The trip fee was paid a week before because my mother wasn’t still convinced regarding safety issues. Her main worry was the ferry crossing we had to encounter, overcrowding and other safety issues. I had done all my chores the night before without been reminded, worried that my mother could change her mind with the slightest error. I refused to pack my regular lunch box, as I preferred to buy food along the way because that what my classmates and me planned on doing. I took a quick shower in the morning, brushed my teeth and put on one of my favorite outfit. I was super excited. It was a bright sunny morning. I was so anxious that I hardly slept. I walked to the street to catch a van heading to Banjul, the capital city, where my high school was located. I was one of the first students to arrive. I remember a white mini bus was waiting for us by the football (soccer field). I couldn’t afford to be late. My history teacher at the time, who was the trip leader, gave us a strict warning that the bus wasn’t going to wait for anybody. I wasn’t taking any chances. I arrived an hour early and had to wait for three hours because we didn’t depart until two hours after our scheduled time of departure. My history teacher was an hour late, which he blamed on transportation issues. There was shortage of gas during that period, the cost of transportation doubled and it had to be a foot race to be able to secure a spot on the few available ones. I was lucky that the trip didn’t get cancelled. We left the school grounds on a Monday morning of February 4th 2002. It took us about 30 minutes to get to the Banjul-Barra ferry terminal. We had to cross the ferry from Banjul to Barra. Barra is a small riverside settlement located on the north bank of the river Gambia. The journey time from the terminal and across the mouth of the river Gambia estuary was supposed to be about 35 minutes and services started from Banjul at 7am and operate until 9 in the evening. The 4.5 miles distance took the hoary ferry about two hours to cross. The ferry was overcrowded about double its normal capacity. Some people chose to use wooden dug out boats to cross the river as an alternative to the ferry because it was faster but the boats were always overcrowded and often sink. The authorities didn’t care because they were only concerned about selling more tickets to generate income, which was never put into good use. At least they could have done proper maintenance on the only surviving ferry they had during the time. There were no standard policies and the people running the ferry ignored safety regulations. I watched as lorries, cars and vans squeezed aboard. Once we entered the departure terminal, there was nothing in the way of refreshments and the toilet facilities had a lot to be desired. I was warned by my mother to keep any personal belongings close as there were pick-pockets who specifically targeted ferry passengers. I was praying the whole time that we made it Barra without sinking. A disaster could have occurred anytime and there was no chance of survival. We were not provided with any life jackets and most of us didn’t know how to swim. There was no information or announcements, so we just had to go with the flow. I decided to go upstairs to the top deck, which had lots of seating. I enjoyed the amazing view of mangroves and a local fishing boat along the river bank. There was always within site of either shore. In November, December and January, it was possible to do a little dolphin spotting as schools of them swim on the bow waves of boats. We made it to Barra and took a 15 minutes break and ended up spending half of my lunch money without considering if we didn’t make it back on time. Upon arrival in Barra, there was a market nearby and I took opportunity to buy some fruits and stock up on bottle water. Our first stop was at the old fort of James Island (renamed Kunta Kinteh island), which is located about 18 miles upstream on the river Gambia. It is home to the ruins which once belonged to colonial Britain. This was the last bit of African soil that many slaves saw before being transported in the bowels of the transatlantic slave ships to the Americas. The island is sadly shrinking due to coastal erosion and has reduced in size to a great extent compared to its hey day as a slave collection point and trading post. The ruins of colonialism and slavery could still be seen. There are caves and prisons on the island where slaves were imprisoned before being shipped off to the American colonies. There are also some cannons standing in their military attack positions. Our tour guide was a descendent of Kunta Kinteh, who the island was renamed after. Kunta Kinteh was a stubborn slave captured in Gambia who inspired the documentary “Roots” by Alex Hailey in the 1980’s who was able to trace his ancestral back to Gambia where he visited before publishing his book. Our tour guide taught us some history about the island. He told us that it was first discovered in 1946 by the German and was later seized by the British in 1661. The British renamed it after king James III. He told us that the island was abandoned for good in the 1830’s after the abolition of the slave trade. There were 3 other historical places on our list but we had to quickly head back to Barra to catch the last ferry to Banjul. Neither were we prepared, nor did we get permission to stay overnight. My history teacher promised to schedule another trip to complete, which never happened TILL THIS DAY.

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Banjul Barra Ferry