By Dr Lamin K Janneh
Since 2016, “reform” has become one of the most repeated words in Gambian public life. From security to civil service, from decentralisation to digitisation, almost every national conversation begins or ends with the idea that our institutions must change.
But here’s the sobering truth: while blueprints have been written, white papers published, and funding secured, actual reform outcomes remain disappointing. Plans stall. Implementation drags. Enthusiasm fades. What’s really going on?
Most analyses blame incompetence, lack of capacity, or political will. These are real issues, but they only scratch the surface. The deeper, more uncomfortable truth is that resistance within the system is playing a far greater role than we care to admit.
And here’s the twist: resistance is not irrational. It is not sabotage. It is not necessarily defiance. It is a signal, a deeply revealing expression of mistrust, fear, exclusion, or unspoken incentive structures.
Resistance Is the Reform Diagnosis
Take the Local Government Service Bill. It promised to standardise employment terms across councils, improve professionalism, and strengthen decentralisation. But the Bill has sat in legislative limbo for years. Why?
Not because of bad drafting. Not because citizens don’t want it. But because a wide array of institutional actors, local bureaucrats, national officials, even some politicians, fear what the Bill represents: loss of informal influence, uncertainty over reporting lines, and a redistribution of power away from the political centre.
Similarly, the Truth, Reconciliation and Reparations Commission (TRRC) laid the groundwork for a more accountable state. But many of its bold recommendations, especially regarding security sector reform, remain unimplemented. Why? Because they threaten longstanding hierarchies and expose individuals to uncomfortable consequences.
In each case, resistance is not coming from the streets, it’s embedded in the very bureaucracies meant to deliver reform.
These examples tell us something critical: Gambian institutions often perceive reform not as renewal, but as risk. Reform feels like something done to them, not built with them. That perception alone can sink even the best-designed interventions.
Reform Must Be Emotional, Not Just Technical
This brings us to a hard-earned lesson: reform is not just about procedures, technology, or external funding. Reform is emotional. It is cultural. It is about how people inside institutions experience power, change, and uncertainty.
If someone has worked 20 years in a ministry, under multiple governments, with little training, limited support, and a fragile sense of job security, what happens when a reform policy arrives via email instructing them to change everything?
Most likely, they freeze. They delay. They comply on paper but not in practice. That’s not failure, that’s a rational human response to fear.
This is why we must stop treating resistance as the enemy. It is the entry point. It shows us where dialogue is missing. It reveals whose voices are excluded. It tells us where to begin, not where to give up.
The Four Pillars of Meaningful Reform
In over two decades of research and engagement in public sector reform, both within The Gambia and internationally, I’ve come to believe in four core principles, four pillars that can turn resistance into resilience:
Empathy
Reform leaders must start by understanding the lived experiences of civil servants, not issuing top-down instructions. A Ministry of Health reform failed in part because mid-level staff were not consulted and feared their roles would be made redundant. Once consultations began, participation improved.
Purpose alignment
People must understand why their work matters. During IFMIS (Integrated Financial Management) rollout, staff initially saw it as donor-driven red tape. Only when the link between their tasks and national budget integrity was explained did buy-in increase.
Agility
Reforms must be flexible. The Teacher Management Platform faced poor uptake until the Ministry introduced quarterly feedback loops. Adjustments based on real user experiences transformed it into a success.
Conflict as Creative Energy
Reform will generate tension. That’s healthy. At Kanifing Municipal Council, youth groups opposing waste mismanagement were brought into formal planning. The result? A co-managed system that worked better for everyone.
These are not abstract ideas. They are strategies with proven impact.
Why inclusion is non-negotiable
Too often, women, youth, and frontline staff are excluded from reform processes. But it is precisely these groups who hold the keys to implementation.
Consider the Basse Women’s Federation, which successfully advocated for improved maternal healthcare. Or youth networks that help monitor municipal budgets. These are not peripheral actors, they are core reform agents.
If we continue designing reform in rooms that exclude them, we will continue to see resistance, fatigue, and failure.These reform dynamics mirror challenges faced across post-transition African states, from Sierra Leone to Burkina Faso.
Reform as a Cultural Negotiation
Reform is not a technical command. It is a cultural negotiation. It is about trust, co-ownership, and shared accountability. When institutions are treated merely as obstacles, they become exactly that. When they are treated as partners, they become champions of change.
What’s at stake is not just service delivery, it is institutional legitimacy.Legitimacy is earned not just through laws, but through listening. Not through blueprints, but through trust.
Without trust, tax compliance drops. Youth disengage. Political polarisation deepens. Reform itself becomes a hollow ritual.
But it doesn’t have to be that way.
What Gambia Must Do Now
If we want reform to succeed in The Gambia, we must stop asking only what needs to change and start asking how and with whom. That means:
· Embedding citizen feedback in reform design.
· Rewarding innovation and ethical leadership.
· Testing reform pilots before scaling.
· Training reform champions across all ranks.
· Learning from past failures instead of hiding them.
· Above all, it means listening.
Because the most successful reform strategies are not the most technocratic, they are the most human.
Final reflection
Reform is not a spreadsheet. It is a story. A story we must write together, civil servants, youth, policy thinkers, traditional leaders, and everyday citizens. If we do, The Gambia won’t just reform its institutions. It will rebuild the trust that makes governance possible.
And in doing so, we’ll offer not just a national solution, but a regional example of what inclusive, adaptive reform can truly look like.
