Common-Wealth

Girls sharing their meals and enjoying the party

Yesterday at public elementary schools across the Gambia, Commonwealth Day was celebrated, to commemorate the shared heritage of former British colonies ranging from the Gambia to India and Canada. At the Lower Basic School where we regularly tutor, the children wore their best clothes instead of the usual uniforms and packed small pots of food for the main activity of the day – eating.

All classes had been suspended for the festivities, which began with an all-school assembly. The children lined up by class in the courtyard in full sun proctored by an adult carrying a light stick, ready to strike anyone who got unruly.

After the student body was led in a collective recitation of the Quran, another teacher lectured on the significance of Commonwealth Day: “Do not think that today is just about feasting and having a party. We need to think about the children in other Commonwealth countries. Some are hungry, in refugee camps, without parents. … How are they feeling? … They are not so happy like we are. …”

I was struck that these are among the children whom Americans and Europeans might refer to when telling their own kids “eat your dinner; remember the hungry children in Africa…” Yet, in their own setting these kids are considered lucky and remember those less fortunate than they are.

The real party began when the food pots were unpacked from their cloth wrappings. The children heartily dug in to their variations on spiced chicken or fish and rice, and even local oysters and french fries along with salad and mayonnaise (I learned that many parents are pressured to prepare these nice dishes so as not to embarrass their kids by bringing meager foods – sort of like the pressure we feel in the States from our kids to keep up with their classmates’ fashion or toys). They stayed in their classrooms to eat, assembled in small, usually boisterous, groups of 3-5 kids. Some didn’t bring pots of food, but there was plenty to go around. In the local style, no one brought utensils or plates, but ate the saucy foods with their fingers and shared everything in the communal bowls. The teachers did not bring food, as the children with the best dishes set aside ample portions of their foods for the teachers to eat, out of their own large communal bowls.

Nothing else had been planned for their festivities – no craft activities, no games, no entertainment. No one missed any of those; and it was the most contented school party I’ve ever seen.