'Banjul's old airport was going through its final weeks when I arrived, and the place was chaotic'

'Banjul's old airport was going through its final weeks when I arrived, and the place was chaotic'

Frank remembers returning to Africa on short trips.

Frank Gaynor

Trinity College Dublin

1997

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Frank Gaynor

Work and Employment

Life Story

Banjul, Africa

1990's

Soon after returning from Korogwe I got involved in rebuilding the garage at the back of the house. I was accompanied by Adrian Kelly, who provided the necessary skill, while I did the digging, lifting and carrying. The project started as an attempt to repair the roof on an existing old garage. This structure was so flimsy and fragile that we soon decided to flatten it. In its place we built a substantial storeroom. This soon became a very popular place for storing our children's personal effects as they moved base, which each of them did on a fairly regular basis. We also have made use of it for storing all those items that are of no use to us now, but that we are sure will come in very handy at some time in the distant future. Most importantly it has housed our golf clubs, and I say 'how could we have managed without it'. When Fergal went to view some new apartments along the Dublin quays, that were being offered for around half a million Euro, I went along with him. I was amazed when I saw how little storage space was available in these apartments. While the construction of the storehouse was in progress, in March 1997, I did my first teaching practice exercise for St Patrick's College, Drumcondra. This involved visiting primary schools in north Dublin and observing students while they practised their teaching skills. I enjoyed the English lessons when budding Roddy Doyles would come to the front of the class to tell a story or read one of their essays. The student teachers, mostly girls, were always very pleasant and charming, not because of any feeling of love - at - first - sight for me, but because they presumed it was more likely to elicit a favourable comment and a better grade from me. And they were right; the greater the charm, the higher the grade. For the following six or seven years, when I was available, I spent most of March in and out of primary schools from Castleknock to Donaghmede, and from Malahide to Ballybough, and I enjoyed every moment of it.During the first week of September 1997, while Princess Diana's funeral was taking place in London, I was in Banjul, the capital of The Gambia, West Africa, on a short assignment for APSO. I remember being in a sittingroom with a TV showing us pictures from London. Across the room was a visiting girl from Cork. When I saw tears running down her cheeks, I wondered what had upset her. I soon realised that her tears were for Diana. While queueing to check - in at Gatwick airport I met an Irish priest, returning to his mission in The Gambia. He had a metal tabernacle with him which greatly helped in bringing his total luggage to over 70kg. I relieved him of one big case, and he managed to talk his way through with the rest. He also talked his way through the entire flight sitting beside me. He ranted and raved about the waste of money when he heard that I was going out for one week. He told me about the school he was in charge of, and how they got good results in English by tying a punishment ribbon on any student caught speaking a local language. That seemed to ring a bell; wasn't that how the British set about killing the Irish language? I was in Banjul to discuss the introduction of standardised tests into primary education. I had got some information and useful advice from the education research centre in Drumcondra before my departure. I first met with officers in the Ministry of Education who were working in primary education. They all had MA degrees and were keen to learn how to go about introducing standardised tests. When I met with the Director of Education I suggested that she should begin by organising a training course for these officers. It soon emerged that she had expected me to recommend that external consultants be brought in to do the work. I pointed that it would be much better to have a local team trained to do the job, and that this could be achieved through some combination of external consultants and training. At that point she seemed to lose interest in my visit and I did not manage to meet with her again.Banjul's old airport was going through its final weeks when I arrived, and the place was chaotic. Luggage off the plane was lined up on a patch of ground surrounded by a barbed wire fence. Policemen wielding batons prevented people from rushing in to collect their luggage. An orderly collection was planned. After a few minutes, as the shouting, excitement, and impatience rapidly increased, a crowd rushed forward levelling part of the fence. I was mighty relieved to see Mags waiting for me on the other side. She had travelled overland from Ouagadougou, and was on her way to Dublin. We spent a couple of very enjoyable days there together. Banjul is on an island and is taken up mostly by government offices. Its sister city on the mainland is Serrakunda, and that is where all the excitement is. The light was fading one drizzly wet evening as I walked through Serrakunda. The whole place was throbbing to the beat of music. This was my first experience of the real West Africa, and I liked it. Nearby was a great stretch of sandy beach and warm water where I spent a couple of relaxing afternoons.The following year I spent a month in Burkina Faso on another APSO assignment. Angela, who was managing the APSO office in the capital Ouagadougou, was an excellent host. Monica was able to join me for the first couple of weeks. We fell in love with Ouagadougou, not because of the heat or the pollution, but because of the variety of restaurants and pubs, the great open spaces, and the generally relaxed way of life. I recall a few pleasant evenings when we sat enjoying a beer at an outdoor restaurant, and watched the chef baking pizzas. We stayed in a house that was built for army personnel, and will never be remembered for its aesthetic beauty. We were near to a main road and traffic lights. At regular intervals, when the lights turned red, up to 100 mopeds and motorcycles would quickly gather. As soon as the lights turned green they would rev up and speed off, leaving a blue black cloud of pollution hanging in the air behind them. Burkina Faso is a landlocked country, with a population of over 15 million people. It got its independence from France in 1960, and the official language is French. Education is not free, and when choices have to be made boys receive preference. I was there to review the APSO programme, which was mostly about volunteer teachers. An increasing number of the volunteers had complained about arriving at their designated schools and finding that there was no job there for them. To collect some first - hand information on the background to these complaints I visited a number of schools in different parts of the country, as far apart as Fada - Ngourma in the east and Bobo Dioulasso in the west. The root of the problem seemed to be the time lag from when the schools submitted lists of staffing requirements to the Ministry of Education in October, until the APSO volunteers arrived the following July. During that time, in many cases, temporary and part time teachers had filled the vacancies.I recall some mature tree lined avenues in Bobo Dioulasso that provided some welcome cool shade from the sun. Some buildings in that city also suggested that during the French colonial days there was a touch of grandeur about the place. The east and north of the country was drier and overall more challenging. While Monica was there we went along to the International Arts and Crafts fair in Ouagadougou. This 10 - day fair, which is held every two years, brings together African craftsmen, exporters, and collectors of African handicrafts from over 20 African countries. After Monica left I went to the central market in Ouagadougou looking for some leather bags. There was no shortage of young men willing to lead me to the bags area in this huge market. We walked along dimly lit narrow passageways with tall shelving on either side stacked with a selection of handicrafts. When we reached the leather bags I was surrounded by four or five young men who were overly keen that I buy. Unexpectedly I began to feel a bit afraid as I wondered what the next moves might bring. Had there been a well - lit exit sign near me I would have made a run for it. I managed to remain calm and talked my way along until we emerged again into an open space. I was relieved to be out, but will never know whether I was in any danger or not.

Irish Research Council for Arts, Humanities & Social Sciences (IRCHSS)

Dr Kathleen McTiernan (Trinity College Dublin)

Dr Deirdre O'Donnell (Trinity College Dublin)