40 days is Not Long

It’s hard to believe it’s already been 40 days since my grandmother passed away. I didn’t attend her funeral, but I knew I had to be there for her 40th-day prayer.

So, Dad and I took a bus from Dakar to The Gambia. I had forgotten how much I dislike long bus trips in this region. The bus itself was fine—small but comfortable, and it left on time at 9 AM sharp. But instead of crossing at Karang and taking the ferry, we had to go all the way around to Farafenni because the ferry wasn’t running properly. That made the trip feel even longer. And then there’s the music. Why do bus drivers always think everyone wants to listen to their playlist? Loud, on repeat, and no one asks if it’s okay. I shoved in my earbuds and turned on my own music to drown it out at the beginning. But then they started putting on some old music that reminded me of my childhood. That was when the music stopped bothering me. 

After three hours, we stopped at the Kaolack EDK for a break. As usual, the bathrooms were… functional, but not great. And don’t get me started on the cashier who “never has change” (probably to push their mobile money app nobody wants to use).

The border crossing and the rest of the trip went smoothly, except for the endless checkpoints in Gambia. More than ten of them, with the driver discreetly handing over small “tips” to speed things up. Without that, we’d still be sitting there getting our bags checked one by one.

We finally made it to Kanifing before 7 PM, exhausted but relieved. My aunt welcomed us warmly. The house was just as I remembered, only more beautiful thanks to the upgrades my grandmother had done over the years. She wasn’t there, of course, but her presence was everywhere: her photos, her perfume, even her old medicine still on the dresser. My aunt gave me my grandmother’s room, and although I hesitated at first, the AC and ensuite bathroom quickly convinced me. I thought I’d feel haunted, but instead I felt at peace—like she was watching over me.

The Kannifing bus stop

Avocado Tree in the garden

An old picture of my Grandmother with the boys I found on her dresser

On the day of the 40th, (two days after our arrival) I woke up late after a long night of reading. By the time I finished breakfast, people were already arriving—way earlier than I expected—carrying big baskets of sweet bread and offerings. These were arranged in gift bags to be given to guests after prayers. By 11 AM, the house and yard were full. Tents covered the garden, plastic chairs were lined up, and men recited the Quran while women organized food inside. I retreated to the kitchen area, overwhelmed but happy to see so many faces: my grandmother’s sisters, cousins I hadn’t seen in years, their kids and family friends. It felt good to reconnect.

When the prayers were done, they served porridge first, then later lunch: a delicious tomato-based rice dish with meat and vegetables. A nice change from Senegal’s usual Thiebou Yapp which is light colored. By 5 PM, almost all the guests had left. I helped clean up a bit, then sat under the Avocado tree with my dad eating ice cream and enjoying the quiet after such a busy day.

The prayer session

The women serving the lunch

The blissful rain at the end of the day

That night it rained, cooling everything down. It felt like a blessing.

The rest of the days in The Gambia were slower—visiting family, shopping and of course, going to the cemetery. I saw my grandmother’s fresh grave and we prayed not just for her, but also for my grandfather, great-grandfather, great-grandmother, and uncle. Growing up, cemeteries scared me. Now, oddly, they bring me peace—a quiet sadness but also gratitude for the lives they lived.

Eating the unavoidable Mbahalou Saloum dish

They have WAVE in Gambia now. I wished there was a way we could use our own Senegal account to send money to Gambia. Maybe someday

We stayed an extra morning in The Gambia because the flight we have booked with Air Senegal was postponed. We were supposed to leave on wednesday night. But we ended up leaving the following day at 1PM. At this point, I am so used to delays and cancellation from Air Senegal that I was not even upset. I just made sure to inform my line manager for I had a meeting with her the following day. And the extra day came in handy as we had more time to enjoy the city. 

The flight was uneventful. We arrived in Dakar on time to be picked up by a airport pick up company I hired. We were home before 4PM, when I resumed work. 

Airport in Yundum 

On our way to board with my Dad 

This trip was so therapeutic althought I dreaded it. I thought I’d break down seeing the house almost empty, missing my grandmother. But I didn’t. Yes, I miss her. I still hear her voice sometimes when the house is quiet, but I’m not heartbroken. She lived a full life, and she’s finally at rest after so many illnesses. The house and The Gambia won’t be the same without her, but her memory stays with me—always.

And I can’t wait to return, this time with my boys. They need to see the place I love so much. Yes, life there is harder now, prices are high, but it’s still peaceful, welcoming, and beautiful. The big trees, the calm streets—it’s home. I have to go back.