Like so many good stories, it began with an anonymous tip. The caller said: There’s a secret trial going on at the military barracks. You cover the courts; you should look into it.
   Like any good reporter, he pounced on it, jumping into a taxi and heading to the barracks. As a 21-year-old rookie reporter, he’d never covered a big story before. But he told his editor: I’ll give it a try because I think the public deserves to know.
   In the United States, a reporter bumping up against government secrecy might get the runaround from a testy public information officer.   
    “It is very, very difficult to   be a journalist in The Gambia,” Bah said. “It’s like the whole world is crumbling on you.”
  He spent the next five years writing articles and asking questions that the Gambian government didn’t want to hear. When censorship became unbearable, he fed stories to a former Gambian journalist who’d established a U.S.-based website. Then, in one gut-wrenching 24-hour ordeal, the government discovered his secret, and he fled for his life.
   Last week, Bah smiled as he sat in his new home, holding the latest addition to his new life: a baby boy. With help from the International Institute of Rhode Island, he and his wife and two children have settled near Providence College. And in May, he will make the transition from refugee to U.S. citizen.
    In 2002, Bah went to work for the nation’s biggest newspaper, The Daily Observer, where he wrote a popular question-and-answer column. He posed tough questions, regardless of whether someone was with the ruling party or not. Critics said he was being disrespectful, attempting to introduce Western-style journalism.
   One day, one of the newspaper’s shareholders marched in and demanded that Bah be fired. His boss said: If Bah goes, I go.
   In 2004, Bah became The Daily Observer’s news editor. That same year, one of The Gambia’s most prominent journalists, Deyda Hydara, was murdered in a drive-by shooting. “That scared everybody,” he said. “And my boss left the company in 2005.”
   Bah began having trouble getting stories critical of the government into the paper. A former Gambian journalist who’d settled in the United States, Pa Nderry M’bai, asked him to secretly feed those censored stories to his website, called the Freedom Newspaper. And the website quickly became a must-read.
   But in 2006, a hacker got his hands on a list of the website’s subscribers. The Daily Observer published the list, calling the subscribers “informants,” and the military arrested dozens of people, Bah said.
   A week later, a friend in the United Kingdom called Bah at The Daily Observer, saying: Give me your cell phone number right now and get out of any public place. I’ll call you in a couple of seconds.
   Bah stepped onto a balcony and his phone rang. His friend said: The government knows you are the source. It’s all over the online chat rooms. They have the emails and the stories you sent. Don’t spend another minute inside that building. They are coming for you.
   Bah slumped to the ground. “My legs wouldn’t carry me anymore,” he said. “Then I grabbed the walls and rose up again.” He found an Internet café, where he saw that it was true: The government knew. People assumed he was already dead.
   His cell phone rang. A caller identified himself as a security agent, saying: Report to the nearest police station — we have some questions for you.
   Bah ended the call. He’d married Teddi Jallow two months earlier, but he dared not call her, fearing he’d place her in danger. He thought of going to the British or American embassies, but they were already closed. He decided to try to make it out of the country that night.   
 
      Then a new life started for him.    Bah’s new life began with a month in Senegal, where he watched on TV as Gambian officials declared him a “wanted” man. He spent the next 11 months in Ghana, where the Media Foundation for West Africa contacted the U.S. Embassy about having Bah resettle in the United States as a refugee.
   On May 24, 2007, Bah completed the journey from the African mainland’s smallest nation to America’s smallest state.
   He’s already made big strides. He reunited with his wife and is working at Rhode Island Housing. He graduated from URI with a degree in communications and political science, and he’s pursuing a master’s degree in public administration at Roger Williams University. He leads the new Center for Refugee Advocacy and Support, and he plans to launch a community newspaper or website. Like any good reporter, he’s asking hard questions about slums and blight, lead paint and crime.
   Like so many good stories, it makes you eager to see what comes next.  efitzpat@providencejournal.com  
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