What's at the End of the Rainbow?

A few days ago, my friend and I were walking to a car park, all the while trying to decide whether we should continue on to our destination despite a pending rainstorm. We decided to keep on going and figured that if we shower from buckets and go to the bathroom in a concrete hole, we could probably get soaked and deal with looking like drowned rats. It’s really not a big deal when you look at the big picture.

As we were walking, still kind of unsure about our decision, my friend noticed a huge, vivid rainbow above the Fajara War Cemetery. We stopped to take a picture because rainbows like this only seem to happen in Africa (I have vivid memories of the ones in Kenya). As we continued walking toward the car park, we noticed that the rainbow projected across the sky, with its end seemingly looking as if it were the Peace Corps office. However, after further observation and estimation, I decided that the end was actually, the American Embassy (note: you cannot see the Embassy in this picture as a photograph of it must be destroyed, but if you were imagine where the end of the rainbow would be, it’d be there).

My thought made me realize that the answer to my question ‘What’s at the end of the rainbow?’ is multi-dimensional. Personally, the thought of the U.S. Embassy as being the end of the rainbow to me, an American, living in this strange land that I temporarily call home, is rather overwhelming, yet comforting. It’s a place I walk by, every time I walk to my office/ As I pass, I think ‘America is right there.’ And it is…as soon as I step through the Embassy gates, I’m technically in the U.S. But, it’s just a building, where decisions on policies, aid, assistance, visas, and people’s lives are carried out. It’s powerful and humbling and chaotic and uncertain and bold and brave and sometimes intimidating...

But for many Gambians, the Embassy and with that, the idea of America---my refuge, my little piece of identity--- is hope, but also, sadly desperation for them. At least one person a day asks me to take them to America when I’m ready to home, or they want me to take their 8 month old baby back with me. Despite the daily annoyance of coming up with creative ways to respond to such statements (trust me…it’s difficult after a while), I realize that even though it’s annoying to me, it’s indicative of the desperation that envelops everyone here. They think of America as ‘Babylon’ (which oddly enough, think of what part of the world historic Babylon is today). They want to flee to Europe and America, and I understand why…I see it every day. But, if everyone leaves, then what’s left? More desperation, no hope, and a society that disappears into thin air.

Before I arrived in The Gambia, many of you know that I worked for a federal politician, handling constituents’ problems with Immigration Services and the State Department. I was exposed to people’s heartache, frustrations, and on some occasions, joys. To hear a person’s struggle, to make a better life for himself or his family, plays with your emotions. Each immigration case is different, but oddly enough, sings the same tune---seeking a better life, the desire to be with a loved one, escaping political persecution, fleeing a civil war…the situations are the same, but each story is a little different, which makes it all the more human.

Every time I get asked to take someone to America, I usually spit out a defiant ‘No!’. Then I realize that my reaction may have been a bit harsh (although in some cases, that’s not true). What I suppose causes me to react in the way that I do is the notion that people leaving isn’t the best solution. In many cases, those that leave and earn more money abroad (albeit their standard of living in their newfound country is still on the lowest rung, unless they are highly educated), they don’t necessarily return to help The Gambia or their home country. They send money. Money helps, most certainly, but it has no use if the allocation of that money is for a television and generator, but in a month’s time the family can’t purchase a bag of rice to feed its children.

I am not opposed to those leaving their lands to attain a better life, but I am disheartened that the notion of attaining a better life IS only by fleeing to a different land. Why is that? Is it because no one wants to work at a solution? Is there no feasible solution? Or is it because it’s the easiest way to get what they feel will make them happy? Is it worth it---risking one's life by crossing the ocean to Europe, in a boat made of planks, with extra fuel stored in 20 liter jugs, small food rations, and no protection from the elements? I honestly don't know.

Just as Julius Nyerere, former President of Tanzania said:

Man can only liberate himself or develop himself. He cannot be liberated or developed by another. For Man makes himself. It is his ability to act deliberately, for a self-determined purpose, which distinguishes him from the other animals. The expansion of his own consciousness, and therefore of his power over himself, his environment, and his society, must therefore ultimately be what we mean by development.

Should we encourage Gambians (and others) to continue to look for that U.Ss Embassy at the end of the proverbial rainbow, or should we try to work on reevaluating Gambians' value here, in their country, so that they can take ownership of their lives, families, and nation? Somehow I think it’s not only important to focus what’s at the end of the rainbow, but how we can improve the journey of getting there. And perhaps by doing so, they’ll be able to see that there’s a lot within the rainbow that’s worth their while and they don’t even have to travel too far to find it.