I have learnt that my response to trauma is shutting down. I have realised that, my memory is patchy, whereas some events are clear in my mind some are actually completely gone.

I was a second year student at SRN School of Nursing; our student union had decided not to take part in the protests. I would have either gone to the hospital to help out. Or did I go Red Cross in the morning in case we were needed; I can’t recall. Both scenarios are feasible.

I recall being at the Red Cross HQ with so much pandemonium outside in nearby West Field. I tried to ring my Aunt in Bundung using the Red Cross phones and the lines were dead.

I ended up escorting an ambulance loaded with wounded school children. We used their uniforms to cover wounds and tried to stop the bleeding. Most of all, I just recall how distraught the wounded students were. It was an elderly driver who remained calm despite all the wailing of the school kids. When we got to Denton Bridge, the ambulance was inspected and the soldiers used the head of their guns to hit the students while verbally abusing them and accusing them of trying to bring the government down. We all kept quiet and were eventually allowed to go. We got to the hospital and tried our best to attend to casualties. There was a lot of chaos; I don’t think the hospital was prepared for such a disaster.

At some point, I recall seeing a classmate Rohey Jammeh crying, she said to me ‘Awa, reyy nang Omar Barrow’ I froze … she repeated it several times, ‘Omar Barrow deena’.

She hugged me and we collapsed in one of the cubicles. My head was spinning, when I gathered myself, I left and went back to the campus. I was no good to anyone at the hospital, despite all the training at both Red Cross and nursing school, nothing had prepared me for a colleague being killed.

The next day, my cousin Abdoulie Sowe came by at the school to tell me he’s travelling to England to study. I remember trying to be happy for him but feeling just numb. I went to the Red Cross H/Q; I’m sure it would have been the same day and saw Omar’s blood by the entrance, I recall it was there for a long time; we just could not clean it.

As all educational institutions were closed indefinitely, I went to Bundung to my aunt’s home and recall spending days sat on a mat in my grandma’s room, completely numb. I wrote the below poem on one of those days. Reading it now; I clearly was in a different world, the sad events blocked and replaced with day dreaming.

I know we went to Omar’s home to pay respect to his parents and his wife Awa Sanneh a Red Cross colleague; I could not look at her, so young with their little daughter. Apart from my father’s death, I had never known such grief.

I recall the burial and the prayers at the mosque; my colleagues and I could not stop crying.

Omar was an extremely talented young man; he wrote, directed and took part in several of our plays, he was the creative brain behind most of our (KM branch) Red Cross plays, songs etc along with Waka Mbye.

When school resumed, I recall looking after some of the victims at the RVH with amputated limbs and serious wounds. I don’t think we said much to them, apart from undertaking our physical nursing duties. My nurse training then had not prepared me to look after the emotional needs of patients.

It is a travesty that, 19yrs on, there’s no justice for the students and my colleague.

HOPE TWIN OF LOVE

In the corner
I sit bored 
From dawn till dusk
Rewinding tapes of the past
Dreaming of the future
A future of hope and love
Of caring and sharing
Of laughing and smiling
Of singing and dancing
Of children and friends
Of cooking and dishing
Of visits and hosting
Of homes and cars
Of working days and loving nights
Oh what a life to live
Without hope
Twin of love

By Awa Bah