Mr. President,

I should have written you a series of letters but never got round to it. When your soldiers ‘defended’ themselves with live bullets against students ten years ago this month, I should have penned you a letter wanting to know why they weren’t persecuted. I should have written you a letter wanting to know why, in almost sixteen years of AFPRC/APRC rule; journalists have had a rougher ride and operate in life threatening conditions, than in thirty years of PPP rule. The torching of The Independent printing press, the closure of The Independent, the murder of Deyda Hydara, the disappearance of Ebrima ‘Chief’ Manneh, the arrest, detentions and torture of members of the private media should all have been documented in a letter to you but, like I said, I never got round to it. I should have written you a letter on how embarrassed I was when a friend or two sarcastically put it that AIDS is no longer a killer disease, thanks to you!

However, when you (or, let’s say the courts) strike home, literally, I felt the need to write you this letter as a concerned citizen and as a hurting son.

Mr. President, on April 1^st 2010, the court sentenced my dad, Femi Peters Snr., to a year in prison for exercising his political rights. My dad’s ‘offence,’ when you look at it, doesn’t warrant a jail sentence or a D10, 000 fine. It makes an utter mockery of our judicial system and doesn’t score you any political points.

Mr. President, the jailing of my dad has traumatized my family. Understandably, you cannot relate to it as you never had the nightmare of having the head of your family caged.

Like my dad, Mr. President, you too have been blessed with seeds. Matter of fact, so overjoyed were you at the birth of your son you declared a public holiday. As a parent, you teach your seeds the values of life, right from wrong; shield them from danger, etc, etc. My dad did it for me and I’m pretty sure you did too.

Mr. President, all grown up now, I still do need my dad’s advice and guidance. Moreover, Mr. President, I don’t want my baby brother to be denied the chance of having his dad around solely because some judge chose to veer off the path of sanity.

Mr. President, the man who raised me is not a criminal. He is simply one of many law-abiding Gambians who just happens to hold political views different to yours. He wouldn’t be languishing in a cell were he an APRC stalwart.

Mr. President, if you have been following events, my dad’s unlawful imprisonment has been condemned all over. We certainly don’t need our country to stick out, sore thumb-like, in such a negative light. You might not believe it but we love our motherland dearly. All of us want to leave a better Gambia than we found it. The least we could do for the next generation. Thus, cutting short my dad’s freedom is not the way to go, Mr President.

My dad is not in the very best of health and prison certainly would not help in that aspect one bit. I implore you to use the powers vested in you to unconditionally release my dad. My baby brother needs him home.

Mr President, the last thing the poor boy needs is to go about life for a whole year without his dad. There’s no telling what that could do to his mental stability, Mr. President. Every family, needless to say, needs a head and we just want ours with us.

History will judge you on how this one pans out, Mr. President. Before that, I, on behalf of the Peters family, who are hurting and beside themselves with worry, just want our dad home.

Femi Peters Jr.

(Chelsea)