At the Edward Francis Small Teaching Hospital (EFSTH), the silence of the mortuary is heavy with unanswered questions. Rows of unclaimed bodies lie in wait, each one a story untold, a family left in uncertainty.
The Public Relations Officer (PRO) of EFSTH, Fabel Jarju, appealed to Gambians through Senigambia news outlet, urging relatives to come forward and identify their loved ones. His call was not just administrative; it was deeply human. “These are people who deserve dignity in death,” he stressed, highlighting the emotional and cultural weight of the issue.
For many Gambians, the hospital’s appeal touches raw wounds. Families of the disappeared some linked to past political violence, others to everyday tragedies live with the mental suffering of not knowing.
Mariama Jallow, whose brother vanished for more than 20 years, says she visits EFSTH regularly. “I walk through the mortuary hoping to recognize him. Even if he is gone, I need to know. I need to bury him with respect.”
“We cannot leave our brothers and sisters in silence. We must give them names, graves, and prayers.”
Alhagie Ceesay, a community elder, explains that in Gambian culture, burial rites are sacred. “Without them, families cannot heal. It is as if the soul is left wandering.”
However, his personal stories reveal the profound psychosocial impact of unidentified bodies grief without closure, mourning without ritual.
In Gambian society, burial rites are more than traditional; they are a spiritual obligation. Families believe that proper burial ensures peace for the deceased and healing for the living. The absence of identification denies both.
The EFSTH appeal is therefore not only about mortuary management; it is about restoring dignity and cultural continuity.
Overcrowded mortuary
Unclaimed bodies remain for months, straining hospital resources, limited forensic tools, without DNA testing identification is slow and uncertain.
National healing
Some remains are tied to the country’s transitional justice process, making identification vital for reconciliation.
Mr Jarju’s appeal is ultimately a call for national solidarity. EFSTH is asking Gambians to step forward, not only to identify the deceased but to help the nation confront its past and honour its cultural values.
Isatou Njie, a mother of three, says the container has changed everything. “My youngest child used to run outside every evening,” she said, her voice trembling. “Now I keep them indoors. The smell, the fear is too much.”
Nearby shopkeepers report dwindling number of customers. “People don’t want to pass here anymore,” explained Lamin Faal, who runs a small grocery stall. “They are afraid of what might come from that container.”
The uncertainty weighs heavily on residents. Some speak of sleepless nights, others of children asking questions they cannot answer. “How do you explain to a child why there are bodies left like this?” asked Fatou Bittaye, a teacher living in the area. “It’s heartbreaking,” she mourned.
