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# The environmental destruction of our inheritance must stop
- URL: https://the-omar-janneh-essays.ghost.io/the-environmental-destruction-of-our-inheritance-must-stop/
- Published: 2026-09-18T18:58:19.000Z
- Updated: 2026-09-18T19:18:24.000Z
- Author: Omar Janneh

18 September 2026

By Dr. Omar Janneh

![](https://storage.ghost.io/c/1c/d9/1cd92c74-e957-41fc-a736-3a8ab434848f/content/images/2026/09/image-20.png)

Recent destruction of the streets and property in Sika cause by runoff rainwater

I cannot put this more clearly than this: an environmental disaster is unfolding in my village, and unless urgent action is taken, the consequences could become increasingly difficult, and eventually impossible for us to reverse. It is my view that we cannot and must not continue to destroy the environment and then try to repair the consequences with quick fixes.

What was once our forest, if it can still truly be called a forest, has been progressively and deliberately destroyed by timber logging by actors from the community and probably elsewhere too. For example, I can still picture some of those iconic, majestic African mahogany trees (*jallo*), visible even from *Badouma* village. In Janneh Kunda, we would look westward into the evening sky, trying to sight the moon to mark the beginning of Ramadan or Eid. In the direction of Bajonkoto, those majestic trees stood prominently against the horizon, forming a familiar and unforgettable part of the landscape. Some of those majestic trees were probably more than a hundred years old. Today, they are no more- felled and taken away for sale. Others, such as the African rosewood (*keno*), wild mango (*wulakonoduto; bears a tasty fruit and the stone- apparently, if you know how to cook it- tastes meaty; there are stories that it was a staple during the war*), the rhun palm (*siboe/tengho*), kapok or silk-cotton trees (*I recall collecting the fallen cotton pods and also chasing the cotton- from these trees in the paddy fields in Badouma- to stuff pillowcases*) and many other trees have also been cut down. In fact, almost anything that could be used as timber appears to have become a target for those who have treated our natural environment as though it were theirs alone to plunder as they see fit.

These loggers went about their business by weaponising their activity: chainsaws have made their destruction much easier to actualise. Trees that existed for generations before many of those cutting them down were born have been deliberately felled, leaving behind increasingly bare land. It is hard for me to comprehend how these actors cannot see that their actions are by no means a sustainable way of using a forest that belongs to all of us– the whole of humanity. It is the destruction of a natural resource without any adequate regeneration efforts to sustain it.

In the past, we used dead wood for fuel; now having logged all there is to fell, they are cutting living trees for fuel– how barbaric! There was a time when the collection of firewood was, at least in principle, different from what obtains now. People collected dead wood and branches for their household needs. There was no widespread practice of cutting living trees, shrubs and wet wood simply to generate fuel for commercial sale.

But all the larger timber, anything that can be turned into wood, has now disappeared for good. Of course, now that the trees large enough to produce commercial timber have been exhausted, what happens is that they have unstoppably turned their environmental destructive attention to even young trees, shrubs and living vegetation for fuel- sold in the *Kombos* (collectively describes a region in The Gambia). These trees/plants are not large enough to provide timber; and may not become large enough within the lifetime of those cutting them, but they are nevertheless part of the cycle of life, our ecosystem and our inheritance. Their deliberate loss is another step towards destroying what remains of the village; yes, the village as we know it.

What is bizarre is that this utterly illegal activity appears to continue with little or any biting restraint. Please allow me to use a broad brush here: the Department of Forestry appears to have become a toothless bulldog. There may be laws and regulations intended to protect the country's forests, but laws that are not effectively enforced cannot adequately protect the environment.

This responsibility does not rest with the Forestry Department alone. The village itself must also take responsibility. Our Village Development Committee (VDC) appears, at least from what I have observed, to be largely ineffectual and dysfunctional, reactionary to crisis. It either does not fully understand its responsibilities or does not take them seriously enough. At times, it seems more interested in shadowboxing or antagonising projects intended for the common good because those projects have seemingly not come through the Committee. I hold the view, underpinned by the very Act that created the VDC, that that is not what a VDC should be about. A community development structure should be helping to identify problems, mobilise community, work with government agencies and development partners to mobilise the resources, and protect the long-term interests of the village. They must be embracing of anything that complements their work.

We are now paying the price for watching the destruction of our trees. The consequences of deforestation are no longer theoretical. The trees and shrubs play an important role in protecting our soil and managing the water system. The roots of the trees and shrubs help bind the soil; vegetation can slow the movement of rainwater across the land, and by allowing time for water to be absorbed, they increase the amount of water that infiltrates the ground. The felling of trees and shrubs is removing much of this natural protection.

And we must not forget this: our village lies relatively low, and during the monsoon rains substantial quantities of rainwater from relatively higher ground (to the north? Direction of P*akau, Kayel and Sameh*) flow towards the village. With vegetation removed, there is nothing to slow and absorb that water. Over the years, this has resulted in increasing destructive runoff. Some would know that the water cuts through the village- through from *borrpakau*, coursing through *Sanchoto*, creating craters, and trenches, which are making some streets increasingly difficult to navigate, especially for the elderly, infirm and physically challenged. Some people seem to have difficulty accessing their homes because of the huge trenches outside their compounds. If this trend continues, some day we will need ladders to get into our compounds. Water pipes become exposed; some burst, and when they do, households further down the system may receive contaminated water.

This is particularly concerning because some may know that the sanitary conditions in the village leave much to be desired. Compounding this, there is a potential risk that runoff from higher ground may carry agricultural chemicals, including fertilisers, into areas where people live. If water pipes are damaged or burst, this runoff could potentially enter the water supply system, creating an additional risk to public health from drinking consuming water. This may create healthcare problems for an underserved community that is poorly equipped to address such health challenges.

Therefore, the issue is not simply one of damaged roads which we seem to want to act quickly to fix. I think the issue is broader than that: it is about water, sanitation, public health, agriculture, livelihoods and ultimately the survival of the community. It should be clear to most, even those that engage in this illegal activity that thanks to their actions, we are losing our trees, our soil and our livelihoods. Indeed, one consequence that deserves some great attention is the loss of topsoil. Some may recall that our village was once agriculturally productive. Much of the village has traditionally been endowed with fertile land. But when the trees and vegetation are continuously and unsustainably removed and rainwater is allowed to run unchecked across exposed ground, valuable/rich topsoil is washed away. Once fertile topsoil is lost, replacing it is not a quick process. Agricultural productivity inevitably suffers.

I know we have experienced erratic rains over the years, but some may have observed that the quality and weight of crops such as groundnuts have already declined, in my view, compared with what the village once produced. What we are witnessing should be deeply worrying for everyone. So, if the destruction continues, the fertility of the land and, with it, the livelihoods of the people (everyone) who depend upon it, will be increasingly threatened. I am not suggesting that we should overlook the damage cause to the roads, houses and compounds that are already being affected by the runoff; I understand the need to act quickly in an emergency. But what we have witnessed is the outcome of years of assault on our forest. So, the consequences of such actions extend beyond agriculture; as we now know, they are affecting homes, infrastructure and the wider wellbeing and survival of the community. Our response should not be to put plaster on the problem, but to deal with the root cause of the problem.

It seems clear to me that our tragedy is that the very resource that has sustained our community for generations is being unstoppably and or unsustainably depleted and sacrificed for the short-term economic gain of the few. The most frustrating part of this tragedy is the way we are responding to what is a crisis that affects us all. I hold the view that crisis management is not environmental management. Instead of confronting the underlying cause: deforestation and the failure to regenerate the vegetation, we are increasingly trying to deal with the consequences after they have become a crisis. What do I mean by this? Money is raised, cement and sand are bought, and concrete is poured into the trenches and craters. I get this: damaged roads and dangerous craters and trenches must be addressed, but I believe we should ask a more fundamental question: Why are we dealing with the symptoms while seemingly turning a blind eye to the cause- the cause has always remained not talked about or untouched? So, what is the solution? I would say this: some of the money being spent on repeated emergency repairs could instead form part of a properly planned programme of reforestation, erosion control and drainage management. Yes, newly planted trees will not provide the immediate protection the transient or illusory protection the concrete appears to offer. Restoring the environment requires patience. This is not hard to understand: what has been destroyed did not appear overnight.

This keeps me awake: I often wonder what wider benefit the village has gained from the illegal activities of the loggers. Whatever short-term benefits the individuals may have derived, the wider community, including themselves, is now left to bear the environmental consequences of their actions. Generations before us probably grew; but at best protected and nurtured those magnificent trees and had the foresight to leave something for us who would come after them. For some strange reason(s), we seem to see things differently. Our own foresight seems more limited. We seem to have become too accustomed to enjoying the benefits of today while seemingly giving insufficient thought to tomorrow; perhaps believing that tomorrow will somehow take care of itself. But tomorrow will not take care of itself. We must take care of it today. Our ancestors took care of their tomorrow, that is why we had what they passed on. We have done the opposite. What a tragedy; collectively, we encouraged parasitic activity on our forest; gave no support to its regeneration; we seemed to have encouraged the destruction of our inheritance.

We must realise that the benefits of any vegetation begin long before the newly planted trees become large. The new growth creates a meshwork of roots that helps bind the soil, while that vegetation slows the movement of rainwater and helps reduce the erosion of the topsoil. As trees mature, they also take up and store substantial quantities of water- hundreds or perhaps collectively, millions of litres of water. In the unlikely event that we do not realise this, we should not dismiss tree planting simply because it does not produce an instant result. There is a dangerous tendency to believe that if something can be built quickly, it has solved the problem because it has not. I think we know this from experience. We have tried to repair the roads several times, yet each attempt we pass as a success appears to have left the problem worse than the one before it. So, quick fixes can become expensive failures. When large volumes of rapidly moving water encounter concrete, rocks, sandbags and other obstacles placed in its path, the water does not simply disappear or gently wash over these obstacles. To put it loosely, water seems to have its own central nervous system- a mind of its own. It finds another route, and its sheer force can undermine or wash away whatever stands in its path, including fences, houses, trees, etc. Anyone who listens to or watches the news would be aware of the destructive power of running water. Again, runoff water can move vehicles, damage houses and destroy roads. Therefore, we should not underestimate what monsoon runoff can do to poorly designed or temporary interventions. We cannot simply keep pouring concrete into the places where water has already caused damage. I am sure you know what I am talking about, because we have already seen instances of fences and houses falling or subsiding because of runoff rainwater.

Under our dire circumstances, we need to understand why the water is behaving as it does and how the landscape can be restored to help manage it naturally. Our strategy requires proper assessment, planning and long-term thinking. We need to stop treating environmental problems caused by some of our people as somebody else's problem. Let me put like this: by letting it happen, we created it. So, the responsibility for protecting the village cannot be left to government agencies alone or our donations and the sweat of the villages to fix the emergencies.

Those cutting down the remaining living trees must recognise that they are not simply taking wood; they are taking down lives- our lives and the lives of their own children, and our children’s lives too. They are removing part of the village's natural defence system and livelihood. Those buying the wood and fuel must also consider where it comes from and what its continued demand is doing to the environment/our environment. The Forestry authorities need to enforce existing laws effectively and work with communities rather than allowing environmental degradation to continue unchecked. The VDC needs to understand its responsibilities and take them seriously. And our community must demand better environmental protection and management. Also, the village *Alkalo*, *Imam, Elders* and *Everyone* must play active roles in this effort, or the environment shall have the last laugh. Without exemptions, the nature has its way of punishing all. Most importantly, those who depend upon cutting the trees for their livelihoods must consider other sustainable/viable alternatives. I get this: it is not enough to tell people to stop an activity they depend on for their livelihood- cutting trees- if no alternative means of earning an income is available. So, other forms of income generation must be identified and supported. That is a subject which I think deserves a separate article because I know that finding sustainable livelihoods is an essential part of protecting our habitat.

The fundamental problem is that we too often wait for a problem to become a crisis before acting- using by putting a plaster on it: we spend money trying to repair the damage rather than preventing it in the first place. In my mind’s eye, we must change our strategy because that approach is invariably expensive, inefficient and ultimately unsustainable.

We need to think beyond the next rainy season. Our village needs a proper environmental restoration programme. I do not think we need temporary responses to the regular environmental damage we face. I believe such a response/programme should include, but may not be limited to:

- community education about the consequences of deforestation;
- an immediate halt to uncontrolled cutting of living trees and shrubs;
- effective enforcement of forestry regulations;
- a properly planned programme of reforestation using appropriate indigenous species;
- measures to reduce soil erosion and manage stormwater;
- protection of the pipe water infrastructure to help protect the water quality;
- alternative income-generating opportunities for those who currently depend upon cutting and selling wood; etc.

We also need to recognise that reforestation is not simply about planting trees. The trees, once planted, must be protected, e.g. from forest fires, and allowed to grow. A thousand seedlings planted today are of little value if they are cut down tomorrow or consumed by the wildfires during the dry season.

I suppose this piece is a call to action. The environmental degradation of our village has occurred, and it will not correct itself; it requires us to act on it collectively. We cannot continue cutting down trees that took decades, and in some cases- perhaps- more than a century to grow and then expect a few bags of cement, some sand and concrete to repair the consequences of their loss. We cannot destroy the natural systems that protected our soil, gave us food and watered us, act as sinks (clean the atmosphere by absorbing carbon dioxide, CO2) for generations and then be surprised when water begins to carve craters and trenches through the village, making the village streets unsightly and livelihoods difficult.

We cannot continue sacrificing long-term environmental security for short-term economic gain by the few. And we cannot wait until the soil has been depleted, agricultural productivity collapsed, the water supply system compromised, and the village regularly flooded, with some houses washed away and lives lost (yes, it has happened in some parts of the world and we worship the same *Allah, SWT*) before we decide that something must be done. It would be much too late then. We need to act now. I think our objective should not simply be to repair the next crater or fill the next trench with cement. It should be to restore the landscape that fed us; helped prevent these craters and trenches from appearing in the first place. The trees we have lost were not merely there for our generation to unsustainably turn into timber and the baby shrubs that are trying to replace the lost vegetation increasingly turned into fuel. They were our collective inheritance bestowed upon us by the beautiful nature; one that should have been protected and nurtured by us and passed on to future generations.

Although at the village level, those who came before us did not leave behind a written account of the functions these trees served them and would serve us if we looked after them, we should understand what they provided. Again, in case it was not clear before, they protected the soil, provide us income and food (supported agriculture), helped regulate and manage water, provided habitat for countless forms of life, beautiful birds with melodious songs, including pollinators and bees; they formed an important part of our natural heritage. Above all, they were part of our village's future; our inheritance. Yet a few people destroyed this inheritance; I wonder what they have to show for it. They seemingly pleasurably cut down our iconic majestic trees as though they were merely lifeless dead wood with no value beyond the timber they could yield. Although the actors have ears and eyes, perhaps they could not see or hear the trees' cries, However, the consequences of their actions are now becoming increasingly difficult for the community to ignore. It seems to be that nature has an interesting sense of delivering its version of justice. Damage it long enough, it will eventually fight back, and it does so without bothering to distinguish between the culprits, and the bystanders- those who simply stood by and watched. Nature, unlike us, does not seem to do or understand the concept of exemptions; perhaps we should sometimes call nature *judge Dread*.

So, while the destruction continues, every tree that is unnecessarily felled is another piece of the natural protection upon which the survival and wellbeing of the community depend, pushing nature (*Judge Dread*) even closer to passing its potentially deadliest judgement. I wonder how much longer we can allow this destruction to continue unchecked before *Judge Dread* hands down its calamitous punishment.