DEMOCRACY ON SALE: GAMBIA’S COSTLY ELECTION LAW SPARKS OUTRAGE By Raymond Enoch
DEMOCRACY ON SALE: GAMBIA’S COSTLY ELECTION LAW SPARKS OUTRAGE
By Raymond Enoch
In The Gambia, a country that once inspired Africa with its peaceful shift from dictatorship to democracy, a new political storm is gathering strength—one that is forcing citizens to ask whether the promise of freedom is slowly being priced out of reach.
At the centre of this growing national tension is the memory of Solo Sandeng, the man who paid the ultimate price in April 2016 while demanding electoral reform. Nearly a decade after his death, many Gambians believe the system he fought to change is quietly rebuilding itself, this time not with force, but with financial barriers.
The controversy follows the passage of a new Elections Act by the National Assembly in September 2025. While lawmakers described the legislation as a step forward for electoral integrity, critics across the country see it differently. To them, it is not reform—it is exclusion. And the numbers tell a troubling story.
Under the new law, anyone seeking to run for president must now pay a staggering one million dalasis as a nomination deposit. Aspiring members of the National Assembly are required to produce 150,000 dalasis, while mayoral and chairmanship candidates must raise 100,000 dalasis. Even registering a political party now costs millions. For many ordinary citizens, these figures are not just high—they are impossible.
In a country where an average worker earns modest monthly wages, the new fees have effectively shut the door on grassroots participation. Teachers, young professionals, small business owners, and activists—the very voices that define a vibrant democracy—are being pushed to the sidelines. What remains, critics warn, is a political space increasingly reserved for the wealthy and well-connected.
The issue gained fresh attention after a moving public appearance by Fatima Sandeng, who spoke about her father’s legacy with quiet strength. Her words struck a deep chord across the nation. For many, her voice was more than a daughter remembering her father—it was a reminder that the sacrifices of the past are at risk of being forgotten.
Her appearance has reignited a national conversation about justice, accountability, and the true meaning of democracy. Citizens are asking difficult questions: What did Solo Sandeng die for? Was it for a system where only the rich can contest elections? Was it for a democracy that excludes the majority?
The concerns go beyond the Elections Act itself. They are tied to a deeper, unresolved issue that continues to shape governance in The Gambia—the continued use of the 1997 Constitution introduced under former president Yahya Jammeh. Despite repeated efforts to replace it with a more democratic framework, the country has been unable to agree on a new constitution.
A draft constitution presented in 2020 raised hopes for a fresh start, but it failed to secure the required support in the National Assembly. Since then, progress has stalled, leaving the nation operating under a constitutional structure many believe still carries the imprint of authoritarian rule. For critics, the new Elections Act is a product of that unresolved past—a law built on a shaky foundation.
Across Banjul and other parts of the country, calls for reform are growing louder. Civil society groups, legal experts, and ordinary citizens are demanding that the incoming 7th National Assembly take urgent action. They argue that the law must be revisited, not with minor adjustments, but with a clear commitment to restoring inclusiveness and fairness.
There is also a strong push for a symbolic but powerful gesture—to rename a reformed electoral law in honour of Solo Sandeng. Supporters say such a move would serve as a constant reminder of the price paid for democracy and the responsibility of leaders to protect it. Each time the law is mentioned, his name would echo as both a tribute and a warning.
For many Gambians, this moment represents a turning point. It is not just about legal provisions or political processes—it is about the soul of the nation. It is about whether the country will continue on a path that empowers its people or drift toward a system that limits participation.
The stakes are high. The decisions made now will shape not only future elections but also the trust citizens place in their leaders and institutions. A democracy that shuts out its people risks losing its legitimacy, no matter how well it is packaged.
As the debate intensifies, one thing is clear: the story of Solo Sandeng is far from over. His name continues to inspire, challenge, and demand accountability.
He stood for a simple idea—that every Gambian should have a voice and a choice.
Today, that idea is being tested once again.
The law has been passed.
But across The Gambia, many believe the real fight for democracy is just beginning.
