Again it is a sunny day. And then realising that it is
freezing cold in Holland! After breakfast I meditate about my own
terrace. Suddenly I have a splendid idea. I wish to see the
other side of the Gambia. Not those flat-walsed tourist-paths,
not the farmer's villages and the proud women of the
multicoloured market but modern Gambia. Why not pay a visit to a
printer? That is a sport's branch of which I know a lot.
I call Yahya to explain my idea and ask him if he wants to
help me. Of course he replies, I will pick you up by car
within one hour. Exactly in time the landrover drives across the
grounds of the hotel with too much noise. To Yahya's family
the vehicle seems to be new, but hearing the noise it has
already gone through quite a few years. Also something's wrong
with the clutch. But it moves and what else can you expect in
the Gambia?
Printed matter, occupational disability or not, unconsciously
I pay attention. But you have to make efforts to find printed
matter here. There is a daily English newspaper, only four
pages printed on a strong sort of paper. A bookshop or a
magazine-booth I haven't seen yet. A few times I have discovered
a stand at the market with a small pile of second-hand books,
imported from Arabic countries. You hardly find a small poster
pasted on the wall, which is usually out of date. At schools
there is a shortage of notebooks, at least for books. Paper is
expensive and each piece of paper is used three times. A
busticket is written by hand and carefully torn from a block into
a format of three by three centimetres. Wrapping paper is
collected caustiously and when purchasing peanuts or a French
bread a matching piece is ripped off and transformed into a
cornet. In a shop in Basse, in East Gambia the owner managed
to occupy Norwegian telephone books. Perfect, exactly the
right size to hand over their wrapped purchases to clients.
Rip, rip the pages sounded. In a coffee house we had our
breakfast: Nescafe coffee with French bread and baked eggs.
The French bread is offered to us wrapped into paper. Pages
from an Arabic schoolbook. The coffee house owner is from
Senegal and most likely he cannot read. Illiteracy in the
Gambia is large, only 27% has been educated, but the amount of
people who can read and write is larger.
This reminds me of the Bata story. For the first time a man
returns from Africa and says: "I have discovered a gap in the
market: shoes in Africa for everybody walks barefoot". He
leaves for good and starts a shoe-shop in Africa. After some
time he returns in Holland. "And", his friends ask him, "how
did it go?". "I did not sell anything", he replies, "for
everybody walks barefoot".
I enter the car and we are heading for the modern Gambia.
Yahya explains that there is only one printer in the Gambia.
They produce twenty percentage of the printed matter, such as
the daily newspaper. The remaining printed matter is imported.
We drive direction Banjul, the capital, and approach an
industry zone. For Gambian standards these are rather large
warehouses for wood, furniture and machinery. After some
investigation and questioning we pass a gate of a large wood
factory. In a small outbuilding we would be there. 'New Type
Press' is written on a sign. We enter and the familiar
pounding of a presser confide me to go on. A small office with
three desks, document files, telephones, maps, paper and
indeed a Mackintosh and a laserprinter in the corner. The
computer looks smart. Some sort of Wordperfect programme is
working. It is not even a late version. My heart is overwhelmed
and my fingers start itching.
We are kindly requested to have a seat and have to wait. Time
to study the rest of the interior. On the desk beside the
telephone is the telephone directory. For the whole of the
Gambia, just 1 cm thick. As far as I can see it contains as
well as the white as the yellow pages. The office is dark and
untidy, style from the fifties. The manager, presumably a
French lady, fluently in English. She is busy helping a client
by phone. Then she nods and invites us to explain why we are
here. Bravely I start the conversation. I hand over my
business card, explain that I visit the Gambia as a tourist and am
interested in the printer professionally. Meaningless she
looks at the card and shakes her head. Never heard about it
she answered. I explain that it is the largest printing
establishing group in the Netherlands and she got scared. She
replies with much diplomacy but her answer is NO. She cannot
see us and show us around. Only schoolchildren or ministers,
but no colleagues. Afraid of competition. She first has to ask
the director who is in Libia at the moment. We insist again
but we didn't get as far as some vague promises that she will
probably call the owner.
Again we are outside, leaving behind the sound of the pounding
presser. At my question about the number of employees in the
printer Yahya answers that there will be at least twenty.
Disappointed I get into the car again. There my chance slips
away to see the modern side of the Gambia. I should not have
showed my business card. I should have had Yahya do the
talking. But I will come back, preferably accompanied by a
minister or dressed up as a student looking like Pippie Langkous.
More information:
Map of Africa and more information:
Map of Gambia and more information:
More travelstories from Africa:
An tour through West Africa
On the motor from north to south
Go back to Liesbet's Atelier
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