As a journalist, I’m used to working to a deadline and writing against time, but over the last three years, I’ve been in a futile battle with trying to outpace death, which, as a human being, I’ll never get used to. 

A few days ago, I received a message from my fixer in The Gambia that one of the women I interviewed for my project, “A Women’s Oral History Of West Africa,” has passed away.

Aja Binta Jammeh Sidibe (1955-2025) was a proud daughter of The Gambia who dedicated her life to fighting for women’s rights. A staunch anti-FGM campaigner, she was at the forefront of early efforts to outlaw the practice, which, though now banned in the country, is still inflicted upon 73% of women and girls aged 15 to 49, one of the highest rates in the world. 

A well-known figure in The Gambia, she was a woman of many firsts. Though her parents were not formally educated, her academic potential was spotted early. She was one of only eight girls in her primary school class of 35, one of only four to sit O and A-levels at the prestigious Gambia High School, and one of the first women in The Gambia to earn a degree. Her husband, the renowned oral historian, Dr Bakary Sidibe, was The Gambia’s foremost scholar of traditional culture. Having worked with the UN and USAID, among others, she was appointed president of The Gambian Women’s Bureau. Eventually, she set up her own organisation focused on women’s empowerment.

When I interviewed her at home in April 2023, I concluded our conversation with the same question I ask every woman: “If there’s one thing you could change about your life, what would it be?” “That’s a very tough question,” she mused. “Changing my life? I’m really content. I have nothing to crave at the moment. Only to pray to God to give me a long life and good health, and to continue mentoring my women.”

Aja Sidibe died one month short of her 70th birthday. By West African standards, she lived a long life. Yet statistics show that if a man or woman in West Africa is fortunate enough to reach 60, the odds are that they will live, on average, another 17 years. So news of her passing came as a shock. She was strong and making plans, and I was looking forward to sharing the podcast with her and the other women later this year.

At my recent event in Berlin, I was separately approached by two men who asked how I deal with carrying these stories. They were curious about the emotional toll of doing this work. I told them it was hard, but also a privilege, and that remains true. 

Lately, my uncle has taken to reminding me that this is a pitfall of doing this job, that being a journalist means you must steel yourself and carry on, and he’s right, of course.

So I’ll just say, “Travel well, Aja Sidibe. It was a pleasure to share time, space, and stories with you.”

Onward.

Aja Sidibe’s story features in episode 3, “When the political is personal,” of the “A Women’s Oral History Of West Africa” podcast.

Image: Aja Binta Jammeh Sidibe at her home in The Gambia, April 2023. Sarjo Baldeh/AWOHOWA/NGS.