What I called a ‘Mental Digital Shift’ has transfigured how we study, work, mingle, and make decisions globally. Information is a prostitute of communication; its offspring is technology. Let me masturbate to satisfaction with a click on the internet before I jerk off sperms into this essay.
The Voice of The Pen (VOP)
Modou Lamin Age-Almusaf Sowe is an award-winning Gambian author, poet, blogger, novelist, and playwright. His books have been translated into 5 different languages. Modou loves traveling and has been to 15 different countries around the world. Author of Don't Judge The Book By The Cover (2006), The Throne of The Ghost (2016), The Memories of Reflection (2014), TWAWEZA (2019), and AfriKa Not AfriCa (2020).
Tuesday, October 21, 2025
The Infancy of African Technology and The Advent of Smart Glasses
What I called a ‘Mental Digital Shift’ has transfigured how we study, work, mingle, and make decisions globally. Information is a prostitute of communication; its offspring is technology. Let me masturbate to satisfaction with a click on the internet before I jerk off sperms into this essay.
Friday, July 18, 2025
Who Cursed The Gambia? An Essay by Modou Lamin Age-Almusaf Sowe
If you're looking for a country where people are divided economically, religiously, politically, academically, and professionally, look no further than The Gambia. The only time Gambians seem to unite is when they are destroying or lying against someone. Unfortunately, some Gambians are ungrateful, envious, and divisive. As a result, initiatives aimed at developing the country often remain unfinished. Despite all this—there are still very good and humble Gambians. What happened to the Biri Biri project of forming a team or building a stadium? Was this dream killed?
What has happened to our talented footballers, filmmakers, young leaders, and skilled workers, as well as events like the Open Mic Music Festival? Dead, right? Ever asked what killed them? Could it just be a mere juju buried in someone's compound somewhere in Pipeline? Ever asked what happened to the young madman walking down the streets of Banjul?
Our focus is only on what we see—but not what happened, how, and why!
After centuries of intellectual progress, Gambians must face a terrible question: who cursed The Gambia? The physicist Alan Lightman wrote: “Are we now descending from light into dark?” Could the death of the Community of Gambianist Scholars be a similitude? I don't think so; but Nigerian President Bola Tinubu added: "No matter how short you are, if you get out, you will see the sky." Whether we continue receiving analyses here or not—each one of us is already who you're from creation. The general goals of Gambians have frequently been obscured by a prevalent culture of superstition, jealousy, and envy. The belief in superstition that permeates Gambian society should be at the center of Gambian literature.
Many citizens blame people for their tragedies, frequently ignoring the more concrete causes of their problems. This kind of thinking can create a vicious cycle of blame and hopelessness in which people believe they have no control over their situation. Superstition can cause distrust and division among the public rather than a spirit of cooperation and support. Many successful Gambians failed in many areas, projects, or things they started—which could benefit the country and humankind—simply because of curses or evil powers used against them. However, as Muslims, we should believe in Allah and endure misfortune—good or bad. But should we still blame God for every misfortune and continue with our 'yalla bahna' adage? One of our scholars once advised me: "Never let them know the cow that is giving you milk. If they know, they will poison the cow. Keep your success a secret."
To fry some eggs in this omelette without adding salt, our current officials of the Gambia Government have started silently relocating to new places to avoid waking up every day to people burying 'jujus' in their compounds/gates. Just last week, half a crate of raw eggs was broken at the gate of one government official living in my area. What more should we expect before the 2026 presidential election is over? “Creation is always more difficult than destruction; greed is easier than greatness.” But what do we know about the life of someone affected by the evil eye? Did it happen to you? 'Thiat', it is called in Wolof; despite being real—it is also doubted by scholars.
A time will come, if this is not addressed, every Gambian will sing this quote:
“I plan for betrayal, I plan for backstabbing, I also plan for reunion and forgiveness long before they happen. In life, I expect nothing, I expect anything, I expect everything.”
Sadly, even if Jesus was a Gambian, he would be provoked, called names, castigated, and ruined. Hyperbolically, can we say Gambians will be the last people to recognize Jesus? Like they have done to Achebe, to Cheikh Anta, to Bun Jeng, Moses, and all other prophets. Tinubu added: "Go and work till mentioning your name becomes a source of increased wealth for someone. Even my weakness creates wealth for vendors.”
Therefore, if the Barrow administration does good, commend them. If they do the opposite, show the human side of goodness by suggesting what's good rather than totally condemning them for political differences. If the opposition does good, commend them as well because even God has oppositions. Another teaching of Bola Tinubu is, while responding to critics: “I study them and strategically execute them. My detractors discuss my successes and failures because they have nothing to execute.”
Perhaps the most pernicious evils that afflict The Gambia are envy and jealousy. These feelings show up in a variety of spheres of life, including interpersonal relationships and career pursuits. In a society where success is often considered a zero-sum game, the achievements of one individual can be perceived as a threat to another. People may be reluctant to follow their passions out of fear of drawing unfavorable attention or animosity, which inhibits creativity and innovation. Particularly impacted are the arts, sports, and leadership fields, where gifted people may be marginalized or even shunned because of their peers' jealousy.
The accounts of numerous well-known Gambians who have experienced hardship make clear the effects of jealousy. While some have suffered from mental health problems or have drifted into obscurity, others have died young. These stories act as warnings, highlighting the damaging effects of envy. Many Gambians have given in to the idea that they must compete with one another rather than celebrate one another's accomplishments, which has resulted in a culture of isolation and quiet.
Gambians need to address the root causes of envy and superstition in order to end this cycle. In order to create a more encouraging and cooperative atmosphere, freeing ourselves from the bondage of evil is essential. People can learn to enjoy one another's accomplishments rather than see them as threats by fostering critical thinking and open communication.
Furthermore, community projects that prioritize harmony and group achievement might aid in tearing down the obstacles brought forth by jealousy.
Finally, the issue of who cursed The Gambia is a complicated and diverse topic to limit to this essay. Jealousy and superstition are important, but the mindset that fosters these feelings is the real problem. Gambians may start to remove the negative cloud that has long obscured their potential by cultivating a culture of cooperation, respect, and support. At that point, the country may genuinely start along the path to growth and prosperity, changing the curse story to one of resiliency and optimism.
If you keep giving money to every touching story you are told, you will be the next touching story. Allegorically, to borrow from the Bible: "from glory to glory"—Gambians are never sorry. It's always the same story.
The ear is patient, but the silence is heavy.
Sometimes, being heard starts with being underrated, persecuted, or corrected publicly. Less is more. Privacy is power. And mystery creates wonder.
Therefore, who, exactly, cursed The Gambia?
Monday, May 12, 2025
Super-marketization of The Gambia, Political Boutiques, and Social Mini-markets: Article by Modou Lamin Age-Almusaf Sowe
Saturday, April 12, 2025
6 Reasons Why Some Men Leave After Sex
Sunday, October 20, 2024
"Left-Eye" poem by Modou Lamin Age-Almusaf Sowe
Even when Rihanna sang “everything to the left,”
I’m still eating with my right hand.
I understand The Gambia still couldn’t find the right man.
But break, broke, broken—
Let it break.
The broken pencil still writes.
Let the donkeys brake.
Let the pastor and imam preach;
There is still sex on the beach.
So you still don’t know I see both Satan and the Anti-Christ?
The reason why every dog barks at me in The Gambia
Is because I ain’t part of the movement that derails Christ
And praises Jesus Christ.
But hallelujah to this screaming;
Amen to this healing.
Welcome to the New Age.
In the Book of Enoch—
Chapter One, Page One,
Paragraph Six of 2026—
Let’s turn a new page gently.
The sun has already risen from the East;
War in the Middle East;
The NBA headed to the East;
Gog and Magog arrived with ease—
Enough of the East!
Listen!
Expect Abraham Ibn Ashram.
Next is the continent of Africa.
Who are you people still voting for?
Let the rest rest in peace,
And the dead find peace in pieces.
“She knows, she knows,
And I know she knows,
Alright.”
The real rapper defended his thesis;
It is sad to read such speeches.
Such things don’t only happen in music.
I wrote a letter to Satan;
The next morning my image was tarnished.
We’ve successfully burned the Qur’an and the Bible without burning them.
Have we not had enough agendas at the UN?
What else is my mission?
In our religion,
When you eat beef,
Don’t ask how many cows are in a steak.
We’re so accommodating—like a housing estate.
So, let’s ask, how many cows in a steak?
Allow intellectuals to continue seeing their menstruation
Until Achebe resurfaces.
Listen—
An era of natural disasters strikes.
The planet is ours.
But before 2030,
Don’t use my name in vain.
See how I turned your intellectuals into prostitutes,
Your teachers into agents of the devil,
Your parents into my enablers.
And then, I turned you and your child into the New Age.
I am the reason you worship your phone and false prophets;
The reason why every young person is tryna sell a soul.
We’re all sinners in disguise,
But I made you addicted to pornography.
Forced you to use condoms,
Drink contraceptives,
And now you’re a whore.
Well done!
I’m ISIS in capital letters
And abortion in small letters.
Listen!
I’m the devil’s Bible and the sinners’ Qur’an.
I ran marathons in your mind.
Do you see how I’m controlling the world?
I’m a religious crisis.
By my grace, I am the final prophet.
I influenced a generation of mobile addiction—
Sex and dating,
Kissing and immorality,
Flirting and hating.
Admit that I’m hateful,
Enraged, and ungrateful.
See how I’ve successfully made you learn foolishness in school,
Yet you claim to be knowledgeable?
Stupid!
Hi hater—yes, I heard you talking.
Bravo, but that shit was boring.
Am I not the one who invented social media?
Who is discrediting your profile?
Who really is the Savior of Planet Earth?
I turned your value into likes and followers,
Made your presence online,
And reduced you to a mouse—
With a click on the internet.
Listen—
I inspired a generation of boobs and big buttocks,
Alcoholism and drugs,
Dancing and shaking of asses,
Wealth and more money.
C’mon, honey.
What y’all bitches masturbating for?
You dress indecently but don’t want to be called a prostitute.
Bitch, what’s your name?
My style of writing is too harsh;
I don’t decorate the truth on pavement.
Who really is the King of Saudi?
Just too supernatural to comprehend.
But when schooling kids in kindergarten,
Teach them A-B-C.
Every gardener needs a crop,
But I am the apple of your eyes—
And your Spotify children.
Should I still tell you I am the left eye?
It’s funny—I’m the writer
Every writer is tryna beat now,
Even underground writers with a big mouth.
Monday, May 20, 2024
You Never Loved Me - Poem by Modou Lamin Age-Almusaf Sowe
Tuesday, April 2, 2024
Man with No Friends
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