Good People, Everywhere

On a recent hot and sunny day, I decided that I would shovel out a culvert built into the dirt road that is my village’s best connection to the main highway to the south and a nearby town to the west. The culvert had been smothered with dirt, sand, and trash during the rainy season—a product of poor government planning and a lack of local surveys (highlighting the need for participatory development). But without that underlying issue being fixed anytime soon, the roadway continues to be inundated with debris year after year. I’m not sure how long it has been since it was last cleaned out, but the actual roadway had become impassable, and motorbikes and vehicles had to skirt around the entrenchment—not an ideal solution given that I once saw a woman fall off of the back of a motorbike that had trouble navigating the off-road bypass (she was okay, thankfully!). It was a ripe occasion for action.

In addition to the actual problems facing people in my village, I also wanted to demonstrate a couple of principles. First, I wanted to show that I, too, can contribute the hard, often mundane work necessary for development. As I don’t go to the farms anymore, opting instead to spend time on digital work (like this blog!), managerial work for my ongoing fence grant, or other basic work, such as small-scale gardening, I wanted folks to know that it is not out of laziness or lack of drive. Additionally, I wanted to exemplify a principle I find important: as an extension worker, I believe that I am here to fill gaps, not duplicate efforts. In other words, I imagine my time is best spent doing things that villagers don’t have the time or resources to do themselves (e.g. shovel out a road, build a 500-meter fence, or maintain a large-scale tree nursery), rather than become an extra hand doing the exact same work as them.

With all of this in mind, I struck out one morning with naught but a shovel and a 20-liter bidong of water (for loosening the soil). As the day wore on, my hands wore out. Soon, they were overrun with blisters, and I needed a break. By midday, returning to my home compound for lunch and electrolytes, I had received a number of comments to the effect of “keep up the great work! We appreciate what you’re doing,” but no one had stopped to contribute. After lunch, I returned and was quickly surrounded by children, creating a peculiar “fishbowl” moment where you, the foreigner, attracts immense attention from local folks, much as a goldfish might feel within a tank. An hour and a half of this later, I was about three-quarters finished with a section that would at least allow motorbikes and bicycles to pass with ease when my counterpart, Abdoulie, saw me and came over to help.

How my hands looked after clearing out the road.

I cannot overstate how good of a person Abdoulie is. Not only is he hardworking, dedicated, and driven—ideal traits in a counterpart—, but he is goofy, smart, good to women, principled, and kind. These qualities stand out like a fire burning in the night. Not only is it hard to find Gambian men who exemplify these ideals, it’s hard to find people anywhere that do. It was not long upon coming to my permanent site I reflected that, while rare, people like Abdoulie are everywhere and seem to sprout up when one simply begins to sprinkle a bit of good faith around. And that is what I found this particular day.

Although most people very neutrally observed my work and proceeded to pass by, there was one 16-year-old boy who came back. Like most before him, Nfally rattled by on a donkey cart, saw me and Abdoulie working on the roadway, gave us some small appreciation, and left with his tools and haul from the farming day. Then the extraordinary happened. After what must have been a long day of physical labor, Nfally came back to help us finish the roadway. The intentionality it must have taken to unload his labors from the day and then to decide to return is simply exemplary. While I had hoped for this outcome all day, I had come to accept that it wasn’t necessary to receive help, especially when part of the goal had just been to be seen as useful. But to have Nfally come back, especially when he and I don’t have preexisting ties as I have with Abdoulie, was one of the most inspiring moments of my service.

Abdoulie (left) and Nfally (right) chipping in massively!

There are good people everywhere if you look for them. It might not seem like a radical realization, but serving in a completely unfamiliar village and being unable to communicate effectively with most of its residents opens up all sorts of interesting observations on human nature. Without words to obfuscate one’s perceptions, deeds become the best, and often only, judge of character. I have met many people whom I know to harbor ill intentions and many whom I know to be persuadable one way or another. But above all, I have met many, many people in my service whom I know to be of pure heart, who genuinely strive to better the world they live in for all who live there. To know that these people likely exist in similar proportions across all continents and places is remarkably comforting and truly reaffirms one of the main bedrocks of service—that people are worth working for.