Monday, 15th December 2025 marked a deeply emotional and unforgettable moment in my journey with CorpsAfrica/Gambia. It was the fifth day after the swearing-in ceremony of Cohort 3 volunteers and also the official close of service for Cohort 2. This morning symbolized the true beginning of my service the moment when excitement, fear, and purpose all came together.
I woke up around 5:00 a.m., filled with mixed emotions, and traveled to the CorpsAfrica office in Bijilo to meet my fellow G3 volunteers. By 6:00 a.m., we had all gathered. My friends shared encouraging words to help me feel stronger, but inside I was nervous. I was heading to a community I had never visited before, far from my fellow volunteers, and into a place where people speaks the languages I’m not familiar with. Questions kept running through my mind Where will I start? Will I be accepted? Will I manage alone? My heart was racing, yet I tried my best to appear calm.
The morning was filled with tears. We cried knowing that for the next three months we would be separated, each of us beginning service alone in different communities. After packing our bags, we began our journey to the North Bank Region and Central River Region North with some CorpsAfrica staff members. Our first stop was Banjul Port, where we were to cross the River Gambia to Barra.
Arriving at the port was both exciting and frightening. It was my first time using a ferry, and seeing heavy trucks, cars, and crowds of people boarding made me nervous. I wondered how the ferry could carry so much weight, and for a moment, fear took over. However, once on board, I found courage. My colleagues and I went up to the top of the ferry, where we could see everything clearly. Despite the cold wind, we took photos and videos, laughing and trying to enjoy the moment. After about 25–30 minutes, we safely reached Barra.
In Barra, we stopped for breakfast. My friend Kaddijatou Jallow, who knew the area well, guided me to a place where I could eat. I bought bread with chicken inside, and it turned out to be one of the most delicious meals I had enjoyed since arriving in The Gambia in August 2025. After breakfast, we continued our journey.
Our first stop was Chisay, where we dropped Edwin from Kenya, followed by Medina, where Bénédicte Sène from Senegal would stay. Each goodbye made the journey more emotional. Finally, after another 30–40 minutes, we arrived at my community Prince.
Upon arrival, we went directly to the Alkalo’s (village leader’s) compound. We greeted him warmly, and Mr. Ousman Sanneh, the Volunteer Liaison Coordinator, introduced me to him. He explained that I was learning Wolof and kindly asked the community to support me. My fellow volunteers hugged me, wished me well, and continued to their communities, leaving me standing there, alone but hopeful.
The Alkalo asked for my name. When I introduced myself as Theoneste Irankunda, he smiled but later told me he would call me “Mass Joof,” the name of his son, so that I could be easily recognized and accepted by the community. That gesture made me feel welcomed and respected.
The following morning, I began moving around the community to meet people. I met Mr. Wuyeh Bakayoko, who was sitting at the bantaba. We greeted each other and started a conversation in English. Shortly after, he bought Ebbeh, a local Gambian dish, from a woman selling food nearby and warmly said, “Welcome to our community.” Those words reassured me that I was not alone.
As days passed, I slowly became part of the community. I joined people in their daily activities playing football with the boys, working in the garden with the women, attending ceremonies in the community, and sharing everyday moments. What once felt unfamiliar became a place of belonging.
Today, Prince is no longer just my place of service; it is my home. I continue to learn, explore, and grow through my service, grateful for the support, kindness, and lessons my community shares with me every day.
