He could diffuse an effusive squabble between a couple of tourists who'd a few too many Julbrews, he could placate a wayward Gambian girl who'd lost all her 'fish money' in the casino, persuade a lonely Toubab lady that she reminded him of a film star and introduce her to other less diffident guests. People's problems seemed to evaporate into thin air as they sought his assistance. He treated them all like royalty. The Fajara Hotel was his stage and he played the lead role. If ever you wanted anything you'd go to Masaneh. So when I wanted a ticket for the Youssou n'Dour concert at the Bakau Football Stadium at the weekend, it was on Masaneh that I pinned my hopes.
Youssou was then, and probably still is, even including Wally Seck, the biggest West African singer/performer of all time. One of the first breakthrough artists in World Music, along with Salif Keita. A major, major star as all Gambians know well. So I was pleased when Masaneh assured me there was no problem. It should also be mentioned that his skills were not just confined to restaurant management, if he chose to he could sell anybody anything. And it was precisely because of this innate talent that I asked him to handle the distribution and sales of a cultural heritage map that I had illustrated and printed. He sold thousands and thousands and we split everything fifty/fifty.
Saturday night arrived on time and so did Youssou and his band of gifted guitarists, drummers, virtuoso talking drum players, keyboards, backing singers. The whole ensemble. A young man called Pap Saine, now owner of this newspaper, took to the stage in an exceptionally flashy blue jacket, grabbed a microphone and gave a rousing introduction to an audience of 5,000 plus. The stage was set.
For some reason the pass that Masaneh had procured was stamped courtesy of P.P.P. Unaware that I had a P.P.P.V.I.P. Pass I was ushered onto the football pitch and given free range to wander about taking photos. Feeling like a rather conspicuous Toubab I spent a lot of time hiding in the shadows away from the bright lights. Pap had finished his introductions and pretty soon Youssou had the crowd dancing and singing joyously in a kind of rhythmic frenzy.
"Your friend Masaneh gave me this souvenir map Mr Tim" said Pap, who'd spotted me hiding near the stage.
"Oh" I replied "Err oh, did he?"
"Yes" said Pap "We'd like you to go on stage and present one to Youssou just before the first break as a keepsake gift"
I gulped.
The show was gathering pace, the volume increased. Mbalax, talking drums, Youssou's hectic vocals reverberating around the stadium, the audience screaming for more ...
The next thing I knew was a hand on my elbow guiding me up a few steps onto the main stage. The souvenir map was placed in one hand and a microphone in the other. A rather bemused and puzzled Youssou looked on as a terrified Toubab was being led towards him.
"Present your map!" Said Pap.
My shaky voice boomed out of the stadium speakers.
"Er, um, Bonsoir!"
Youssou looked at me.
"Er, um oui Bonsoir Monsieur Youssou"
Youssou looked at me.
"Er je vous, non, je presente tu avec un carte de Gambia. Un cadeau!"
I nearly pissed myself. The stunned silence from the audience rippled into a few giggles and then into virtual hysterics. Who was this witless idiot? The great man himself saw the funny side of it, slapped his knee with a loud laugh, took the map, shook my hand warmly and graciously accepted the gift saying he would treasure it for the rest of his life! (reliably translated later).
I exited stage left faster than Gina Bass, even though she hadn't been born then. Much later that evening, wandering back into Bakau, I spotted an open bar, sat in a dark corner and ordered a black coffee. Some locals and a few tourists were chatting at another table drinking Fantas and Julbrews. I overheard one say...
"Did you see that Toubab on stage with Youssou?'
All chuckled as though it was a highpoint of the evening.
Didn't say a word, couldn't believe it had happened.
And if you're reading this Youssou, please do call in at Kassama compound in Farato, I have a few maps left if you've lost yours somewhere?
It was an interesting evening.
Author: Timothy William Lee
