Gambia - When the President Passes

We are driving along in a taxi in sparse traffic on the outskirts of Banjul when we hear distant sirens. Suddenly, the traffic in both directions jumps and scuttles rapidly several metres into the scrub on either side of the road.

A wailing siren thunders up from behind in the shape of a police car doing 70 or 80 miles an hour down the middle of the road; then 4X4s with tinted windows; truckloads of soldiers, guns pointing outwards, arms waving wildly; more jeeps with blue-uniformed police rocket by; then the Presidential limo thunders past, a huge, black stretch Hummer (a gift from the King of Morocco), with guards riding shotgun in an extension at the rear.

The convoy is concluded with an ambulance careering wildly past us before traffic cautiously feels its way back onto both sides of the road.