With Binta Njie
SHE CHOSE GOLD
There lived a beautiful woman in the streets of Serrekunda London. Her skin sparkled, her eyes shone like stars, her lips were succulent, and her body looked like a sculpture carved by God on His happiest day. Her name was Nafisa.
Men, young and old, rich and poor, decent and dangerous, desired her. Yet Nafisa carried herself with rare grace. She came from a humble beginning and sold beans and cassava meal at the entrance of her compound every night. She was intentional about her hygiene and appearance, aware that many customers came not only for her delicious food but for a glimpse of her beauty or a chance to exchange pleasantries.
Her popularity spread like wildfire. Wives quarreled with husbands who lingered too long at her spot. Some followed their men there, guarding them from conversations they feared more than hunger.
Nafisa had two friends, Awa and Mariama, who came often not to support her hustle, but to attract men. They mocked her openly, wondering how a woman so beautiful could “lower herself” to selling beans. They dressed to impress, laughed loudly, and chased attention. Many of the men used them and left them behind, yet those same men still longed for the calm, untouchable Nafisa.
One day, a handsome young man in an exquisite suit arrived. He became a regular customer, often buying food for others. He drove an expensive car and dressed sharply, intimidating the men who once hovered around Nafisa, dreaming of professing love someday. Unknown to them, he was only a gatekeeper, sent by his wealthy boss to observe her.
The gatekeeper was sometimes rude, impatient, and annoying, but Nafisa never lost her composure. She spoke only when necessary, never argued with customers, never entertained rumors, and never gave herself to men who claimed imaginary relationships with her. Her silence became her shield.
Then one evening, the man who had sent the gatekeeper came himself. No luxury car or expensive clothes, just a clean shirt, a modest car, and a humble spirit. He sat, ate, and spoke with Nafisa, not about her beauty, but about life, dignity, and values.
When news spread that Nafisa had accepted his proposal, people laughed. Awa and Mariama were shocked. Neighbors mocked her choice. “How can Nafisa choose such a simple man?” they said. “Beauty has wasted itself,” others whispered.
Until the truth came out. Nafisa had married the wealthiest man in Banjul.
The laughter died. The mockery turned into silence. The same people who doubted her wished they could turn back the hands of time. Awa and Mariama learned lessons no tears could erase. They finally understood that while they chased glitter, Nafisa chose gold. She did not abandon her hustle overnight. Instead, she grew it, empowering other women and teaching them that beauty without character is a fading currency.
And so, the streets of Serrekunda London learned a lesson too late for some. They learned that beauty may attract eyes, but virtue secures destiny. The understood that hard work builds dignity and self-esteem, and that not all women are carried away by empty displays from men who often fake success just to get what they want.
Musuyaa, foh Kungfaa!!!