Mental Illness and Presidents!

 Before you fall off that cliff I left you hanging on Monday I want to share some more events from 2006.

GOD is so good! I look back and wonder how I was making it! Even as it was happening I was in awe. That eight hundred dollars that I had to my name just kept giving. There was a lot of fun in the midst of some stressful times. I can’t remember wanting for anything. The house were I was living had become a refuge for me and my sister friends from the Diaspora so there was often good company and conversation and always a whole lot of love. At that time I was the only African American in our little group, most were from the Caribbean or of African descent via the UK. Now those Chicks with their various UK,  some mixed with Caribbean accents where a surprise to me, but if I start talking about them I’d lose my train of thought. Meeting most, not all of them has been a real treat. By meeting and knowing them really brought to the forefront just how unique the African American Experience is. Besides my sister friends I had a bomb diggity boyfriend to help keep me company.

There are some brothers around from the Diaspora as well. Those that did not come with their spouses are married to Gambian women. We would all come together socially on occasions and holidays. In 2006 we volunteered to help a friend out by working with her on the production committee for the Roots Homecoming Festival. Rita Marley was the headliner for the concert. It was disastrous!  Our friend that was in control of production just lost it completely; unorganized, shouting at people, had us running here and there so much so that many of us just went some where and sat down. It was crazy. Cedella Booker (Bob Marley’s mother) was suppose to come as well, but when she found outr Rita was coming she cancelled. 

One day as I was coming out of the hotel where some of the artists were staying when this woman approached me and said, “There you are, I’ve been looking for you!” I didn’t know this woman and had never seen her before. She was dressed very afro centric with long locks and sporting a fake Jamaican accent. She grabbed me and hugged me like we were kindred spirits. We made our introductions and she went on to tell me that she was a friend of Cedella’s and that she wasn’t coming so she’d be all alone. I gave her a business card and told her if she needed anything to call me. Boy did she call me!

When I was on my honeymoon, huh, what!? Just in case you didn’t read that post or remember I got married to a Senegalese Brother in 2001 that only lasted a few months. I’m not going to recap; it’s in an earlier post.  Well when I was in Gambia on my honeymoon I met a Gambian that had a guest house near by where we were staying. His place is enchanting and later he would be as well, whew! Anyway he spent quite a great deal of his time in Sweden (I’ve written about him very briefly before as well) and when he was out of the country I managed the guest house. 

I was at the guest house when she called a few hours later sounding anxious and incoherent. I got her to slow down and speak softer in her natural African American accent and she still didn’t make any sense. All I could make out was that she was being put out of the hotel. Yep, that’s what I said; being evicted was the word she used. Now of course I wanted to know what had she been doing to get kicked out. So anyway I told her to get a taxi and I would have someone give the driver directions to the guest house and she could rent a room there.

I don’t think it took me forty eight hours to realize why she got put out. The staff at the guest house called me and told me that she was running around the grounds naked and destroying the room. If I didn’t mention it before I’m a nurse with a specialty in psychiatry, thank GOD. By the time I got there she was butt naked chasing the male staff around grabbing at their crotches. Like before she was elated to see me. Once I got her calm I began my assessment: she knew who she was, where she was, what year it was, but she was on a high that was not a natural or drug induced, but pure mania. She had been spending and giving away a lot of money, her conversation was tangential and she was responding to something internal. I asked her if she took any medication or if she was diabetic and she said no, but I had my suspicions that she had missed a few days of medication. The next day told the tale; this woman needed medication she was totally out of control walking around with a machete chopping at trees. I called the police to come get her to take her to the psych hospital. Once they came and got her they called me to come back and get her! Huh, what!? I refused and they finally took her to the hospital. 

I know getting lost in any system is horrible, but in Africa’s psych care! I went into her room and found her address book and looked for names similar to hers and found her daughter who said she was Bipolar and was not suppose to be there. I visited her in the hospital so people would know she wasn’t alone. I gave her daughter the info to the hospital, called the embassy to make them aware and kept stepping. She was finally released after a few days and left for Senegal to catch a flight back to the states.

I noticed that when I would visit her at the guest house or hospital and my boyfriend would be present that they had some kind of weird connection. Nothing sexual but an understanding, that should’ve been a clue of things to come. It was actually and I clearly remember denying it to myself. Few months later my boyfriend started displaying signs and symptoms of Schizophrenia. By the time he got ill he was no longer my boyfriend. His behavior had changed and it wasn’t nice so I cut it short, but in hind sight now know it was the early signs f his illness. That was sad and a post for another day.

Life went on as I bee bopped to and fro in Gambia!

The African Union had their annual conference and convention of all African States that year in Gambia and I was right there in the mix. That was a thrill of a lifetime! I had met some people in authority that allowed me the chance to meet each sitting African President of the day! Wow!!!!!!! As the limos pulled up to the Sheraton Hotel the security forces would open the door, a president would step out and it was my hand that would greet them and say welcome Mr. President! Yeah, pow, big high five for me you guys!!!!!!!! Me, Southside, Englewood, greeting African presidents! The only hand I could not shake was that of President Muammar Gadaffi. His aura felt so unreal. When he would pass it was if he was on a magic carpet, he would glide pass. Each time I thought about extending my hand it felt like a force field kept it magnetized to my side. His female security forces look like some bad queen of the desert chicks, but they were approachable! It was a beautiful breathtaking experience. I got a chance to sit in on meetings to pass resolutions that affected all of Africa and beyond.  Here’s a link, scroll to page 3 and you’ll see who’s there! http://www.africa-union.org/root/au/Conferences/Past/2006/july/summit/doc/AWA/1%20July%2006-MINUTES%20OF%20THE%20MEETING%20OF%20AIDS%20WATCH%20AFRICA.pdf

Wow!

His Excellency Sheikh Professor Alhaji Dr. Yahya A.J.J. Jammeh, President of The Gambia