by Ebrima Baldeh
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On 3rd May 2016, the Observer Light magazine ran an article that was considered by many Armitagians a landmark piece on a school that has tapped a critical mass of the country’s first indigenous Gambian elites from Armitage High school.
Between the 1940s to the late 1950s, Armitage produced the likes of the highly acclaimed and one of the finest lawyers the country has ever produced, Fafa Edirisa Mbai, bagging three degrees in four years, and siring four sons who happened to live, studied and become successful lawyers in the country.
In the area of governance and the embodiment of the story of the typical Gambian woman, the Vice President Her Excellency, Aja Dr. Isatou Njie-Saidy, left Armitage in the early 1970s. After a period of sustained challenges at various units within the public sector, the ex-Armitage student went ahead to break a historical record, which, until now is something that cannot be easily taken for granted – women’s empowerment.
In The Gambia, the face of women in power is by and large dominated by the story of the classic twist of fate that produced Dr. Isatou Njie-Saidy, and positioned her in a seat that was mostly reserved for men.
Outspoken and explicit in presentation, the Vice President’s enviable achievement has inspired and is likely to inspire a generation of women who will take succor from her records. Out of what is proverbially referred to as millions of within and outside The Gambia to choose from, little did Isatou Njie-Saidy know that one day she could be a minister, in a reform-minded revolutionary government headed by His Excellency Sheikh Professor Alhaji Dr. Yahya AJJ Jammeh, Babili Mansa at the dawn of the Second Republic.
Since her engagement with the APRC government in 1995, the ex-Armitage student is the oldest member of cabinet in the present administration, and is one of the longest serving female vice presidents in the world. She has not only enjoyed the unrelenting and unalloyed support of her boss, and under this administration, Gambian women have seen remarkable elevations to key public offices.
An Armitage ex-student worthy of mention within the context of academia is the thorough bred, highly sophisticated and obscurantist Kaabu Kansala Nyancho, Professor Lamin Sanneh, who is in a world of his own, somewhere cocooned in America.
Professor Sanneh’s story was illuminated to the mainstream Gambian audience thanks to Fafa Mbai’s book entitled: In the Service of my beliefs. A section in the book produced a speech that went memory lane to briefly talk about Armitage’s Tumani Fatty and Lamin Sanneh’s largely unknown story of the first Gambian civil servant to return to another high school to study again years after leaving Armitage. Then working as accounts officer at the treasury, this ex-student was not satisfied with the high school knowledge he had acquired at Armitage, he went to Gambia High School where he proceeded to lower and upper sixth and proceeded to university.
Digging into historical records, the history of the Armitage story could best be described as a great historical antecedent- a grooming ground for the leaders of tomorrow, since the formation was premised wholly and surely on educating the sons or daughters of Gambian Seyfolu.
Around the 1920s, the idea sprang up during the tenure of Governor Sir Cecil Armitage, a highly decorated British soldier, about the need to build a post primary boarding school; an agreement was not easily reached. Lists of official correspondences emanating from colonial records indicate the wrangling debate on Armitage’s still birth. Even though, the colonial authorities had identified the operational need and institutional framework, the location of the school saw a wild debate.
Boraba village near Yerro Berri Kunda, in the Central River Region (south) Mansakonko (in the Lower River Region) and Georgetown were the ideal locations to choose from; memos flew from one direction to the other, and the issues starting coming up.
Georgetown’s epileptic water challenges posed as an obstacle for those who were keen on building the school there. Boraba was spacious, so too was Mansakonko where huge swathes of land lay fallow, it could build a large school and use the remaining space for agricultural purposes. But the fact that Boraba and Mansakonko could also be hit by acute water shortages, proponents of Georgetown, now Janjanbureh, had their way when the idea of using the River Gambia. The idea was to draw fresh water if the need arises from the River Gambia.
Armitage High School was therefore built, not without a massive mobilisation force among chiefs and local donors from within and outside the region. Historical records at the national archives tell us about the first one hundred students registered as the first cohort to study at the school. The school could boast of few roofs at the initial stage.
It was not until the early 1940s, that school authorities introduced the concept of a newsletter that produced light-hearted features on agriculture, culture, society and some of the main activities in the school. One of the leading lights in the production of that magazine was Fafa Mbai, who wrote articles on agriculture, school holiday and provided insights into the rhythm of provincial settlements.
The story of Sheriff Dibba’s (of blessed memory, a veteran opposition leader and founder of the National Convention Party, and former Speaker of the National Assembly) suspension from school for flouting the rigid rules and regulation was broken. The magazine served a unique platform for expressions of various social and cultural issues. Secrets of Armitage from an insider that the school was built through collective efforts cannot be disputed, what is likely to be strongly contested, is the fact that the Armitage orientation was largely built around the image of a military institution. Here, is a school that is so programmed like the cyclical movement of the sun and the moon.
There is no doubt that founders and institutions that are named after individuals are likely to draw inspiration from the individual whom they named after. Reminiscing on Armitage few years back, Majority Leader and NAM for Serrekunda East, Fabakary Tombong Jatta, said Armitage is a programmed school, one activity is taken over by another scheduled activity, until the end and beginning of another day. He is right, Fabakary Tombong Jatta studied in the four corners of the school and knew the regime under which he passed through.
The day to day running of the school is under the hands of the powerful student council, which is sometimes revered by the lesser students, yes, I would like to stress lesser here within the concept of the Armitage political and social class. If you are a beginner or freshman in Armitage, if you are not so lucky, you will be named as a ‘fat green leaf’, whose name is written in pencil, which means it can be rubbed off at any time’. If you are green leaf, bear in mind that you will have to do odd tasks here and there, whenever called upon by someone no matter the size or age. If you are in Armitage, you have to obey and complain, the seniors are always right… woe betide you, if you use your might to settle personal scores with the council members or a senior man. Any resistance from the juniors is dealt with mercilessly and one will have any recourse to justice because the ‘Supreme Court’ will not entertain frivolous conjecture from mere green leaves.
Operating on a tight schedule, it is the school’s sergeant – (the one who strikes the big metallic object fastened on the bottom side of the big neem tree near the dining hall). The sergeant is the time-keeper; teachers and everyone depend on him to know the start and end of class periods, and the school’s routine. The sergeant cannot shirk his responsibility, where as he did, the command can be given to anyone if the need arises. For example, the issue of summoning an emergency meeting could be done in the absence of the sergeant if he is not available, someone somewhere can be chosen to perform the job.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy, therefore when it comes to entertainment, the school authorities do accommodate plenty of it whenever the cycle drift towards that direction. Whether it is debate, quiz or literary competitions, there is no room for efforts slackening, you are either at the hall or face punishment for not showing up. From Jamaica to Kenya, it is musical nights that fascinated students and teachers, for it is the only programme where a teacher will dance with his or her students. And for the wait-for-her at the dark corner boys, will not hesitate to put out the light to cause panic and pandemonium in the hall to send the girls into delirium. As for the love birds within the differing cults, a standalone session will do it at least once a week. Of all the lovers of musical night, the ones whose parents could afford the beautiful jeans and ride-on boots from Wa Banjul yi and Wa Kombo yi usually steal the show because such public gatherings put them at enviable advantage.
Suddenly, you will see a well-dressed gang of boys from the supreme council march into the hall in a single fill to a thunderous applause from the fans club. ‘Cha, cha, hey, hey’… look, look at them… Then, a solitary figure, from nowhere, with shoes that lights up the ground, with infectious looks, some girls will begin to faint. Maybe, someone is asking where on earth did he get it? Such is a spectacle of the lighter side of a tough boarding school where entertainment is usually as tough as working during serious moments. Love is usually not strictly forbidden, or publicly expressed but during get-togethers, its emotive and psychological power cannot be hidden or wrapped under the carpet.
(Find out more in the next edition of Observer Light- Armitage Story Part 2)
Ebrima Baldeh studied in Armitage from September 1993 to June 1999.
