The Brufut 'Marathon'

I should have had an inkling of how the Brufut ‘marathon’ would pan out when I went to pay my entry fee.  Having been sent to three different buildings, I finally met a lady who took my money, wrote my name on a scrap of paper, and gave it to me (presumably in case I forgot my own name).  She assured me that the race began at 9am, despite the announcement in the newspaper that it began at 8am.  Arriving on the big day at 9am to find no one around, I assumed she was mistaken and that I had missed the race. However, as women in running gear began to drift up from about 9.30 I realised that getting there too late was not going to be a problem for anyone.  I say ‘women’, but apart from a handful of very fit looking women from the Gambian national team, this was more of a schoolgirl affair.  And I say ‘running gear’, but most of the competitors were running in socks, with the rest in jelly shoes. Only I and the other white woman wore trainers.   

If milling about were an Olympic sport Gambia would get a gold medal, and so it was that we passed quite some time waiting for the race to start.  Then, without ceremony, someone (I suspect a bored schoolgirl) said ‘go’ and everyone tore off at maximum speed.  Within minutes I could hardly see any other competitors, so fast did they all sprint. However it wasn’t all that long before I began overtaking my fellow runners, who were now walking or collapsed in a heap having run all-out and exhausted themselves.  I do not exaggerate when I say ‘collapsed’; they really did fall over in the most over-dramatic of styles, at which point the ambulance would come and scoop them up and take them to the finish line. The ambulance was constantly picking up exhausted athletes who had run, in some cases, over 300 meters.  I don’t know what percentage where stretchered off but I suspect over 50%.  (And I have no idea where this ambulance came from either. It’s the only ambulance I’ve ever seen in The Gambia).

The route was lined by the good people of Brufut giving enthusiastic support.  Whenever they saw me the people would shout ‘go toubab’ (meaning white person) and then literally fall about laughing, so amusing was it to see a white woman being outclassed by the remaining schoolchildren.

In terms of distance, I heard that the course was 42k, i.e. a full marathon, but it turned out that was for the bike race.  Then I heard it was 15k, but that was the men’s race.  The women’s was advertised as 8k, but a quick check on google earth showed it to be more like 3k.  Of course I didn’t know that when I started so I was holding quite a lot back when it suddenly ended.  By elbowing some of the smaller children in the face I managed to finish in a decent position.

At the finish the runners were of less interest to the crowd than the frequent arrival of the ambulance, which with every new arrival had a small army of children running after it (no doubt preparing for a legal career by chasing ambulances, ho ho).