The recent claim by former soldier Abdoulie Sanyang that Yahya Jammeh once plotted to assassinate Adama Barrow—years before he entered politics—deserves reflection, not just for what it says about Jammeh’s paranoia, but for what it reveals about the fragile nature of leadership and destiny in our country.
That a sitting president could view an ordinary businessman as a potential threat is a powerful reminder of the climate of fear that defined Jammeh’s rule. His leadership thrived not on trust, but on suspicion. For Jammeh, enemies did not need to exist in reality; the mere idea of potential opposition was enough to spark repression. In such an environment, no Gambian was truly free, and no future was guaranteed.
Yet, history has its own way of rewriting power. The man Jammeh allegedly sought to silence before he ever entered politics would later become the very person to unseat him in 2016. This irony should not be lost on us. It illustrates that leadership is often less about calculation and control, and more about the unpredictable flow of destiny. No amount of intimidation or violence can ultimately erase the will of the people when their moment of choice arrives.
But this story is not only about Jammeh and Barrow. It speaks more broadly to the condition of democracy in The Gambia and Africa at large. Leaders who cling to power out of fear of the future often fail to see that the future cannot be stopped—it can only be shaped. By attempting to eliminate potential challengers, Jammeh did not secure his rule; instead, he deepened his isolation and set the stage for his eventual downfall.
The lesson for Gambians today is clear: democracy is fragile not because it lacks potential, but because it requires constant vigilance, humility, and respect for the unexpected ways destiny works. We cannot predict who will rise, who will fall, or how history will bend—but we can build institutions strong enough to withstand both ambition and fear.
Adama Barrow’s survival and eventual rise to the presidency may appear to be chance, but it also reflects the resilience of Gambians who, despite years of oppression, chose change when the opportunity finally came. Destiny played its role, but so did courage.
As a nation, our task now is to nurture a democracy that does not depend on the survival of individuals, but on the strength of systems, values, and the people themselves. That is the only way to ensure that the fragile hand of destiny is guided by justice, peace, and freedom—not by fear.
“Leaders may plot, but destiny always writes its own script—and in a true democracy, it is the people who hold the pen.”
By Kebba Cledor Jammeh
