I used to think I was invisible.

In my village in The Gambia’s North Bank Region, life moved slowly, especially for girls like me. Every day looked the same: waking up before dawn, helping with chores, and watching the boys go off to school or the market while we stayed behind. No one expected us to do much more than marry, raise children, and survive.

But deep down, I wanted more. I just didn’t know how to get it.

I had always been curious about farming. Not just growing food for survival but farming as a business. But when I spoke about it, people would laugh and say, “Farming is for those who have no other choice.” To many around me, the soil was something we toiled on not something that could empower us.

Then one day, I heard about a programme called the Gambia Songhai Initiative (GSI). A neighbour mentioned that it was accepting applications for a new intake and that it trained young people in agriculture and business. I hesitated. I didn’t have a formal education. I had never travelled far from home. What if I wasn’t good enough?

But something told me to try. That single decision changed my life.

When I arrived in Chamen for the training, I felt like a fish out of water. I was surrounded by strangers 87 young men and women from across the country. Some had finished school, others had already started small farms. I kept thinking, do I really belong here?

But the trainers didn’t treat us like students. They treated us like future leaders.

At GSI, I learned how to plant vegetables in raised beds, manage pests without harming the soil, and irrigate crops during dry seasons. I learned how to rear goats and chickens, how to make compost, and even how to keep financial records. Everything we did was practical. We worked with our hands, our heads, and our hearts.

The training wasn’t easy. There were days I came home with aching muscles and sunburned skin. But there was also laughter, teamwork, and a growing sense of pride. Slowly, something began to shift inside me.

One day during our business skills session, we were asked to present ideas for small agricultural enterprises. My hands trembled as I stood before the class. But I spoke. I shared my dream of starting a small horticulture farm that would employ women and supply fresh vegetables to nearby towns. When I finished, the room clapped. For the first time in my life, I felt seen and heard.

By the time graduation arrived, I wasn’t the same person who had walked into Chamen three months earlier. I was stronger. Clearer. Hungrier for change not just for myself, but for others like me.

Standing there on that day, dressed in my green Songhai uniform, I looked around at my fellow graduates and felt a wave of emotion. We had become a family. And we were now part of something bigger than ourselves.

When UNDP presented us with tools watering cans, boots, gloves, protective gear it wasn’t just a gesture. It was an investment. A statement that said: “We believe in your future.” Those tools are now sitting safely in my house, ready for the day I break ground on my farm.

I’ve already started preparing. I’ve identified a small piece of land, spoken to elders in my community, and even started mentoring two younger girls who want to follow the same path. I tell them what I now know for sure: Agriculture isn’t a fallback. It’s a foundation for freedom.

You see, GSI didn’t just teach me how to farm. It taught me how to lead. How to believe in myself. How to see opportunity where others see hardship.

People talk a lot about youth unemployment in The Gambia. And it’s true the struggle is real. But I now know that solutions exist, and sometimes, they begin right under our feet. In the soil. In our hands. In the courage to try something new.

To any young person reading this especially girls I want you to know: you are not invisible. You are not powerless. You just need the right chance, the right support, and the courage to take that first step.

The Gambia Songhai Initiative gave me that chance. And now, I carry a new dream, not just to farm, but to inspire. To show that young Gambians can grow more than crops we can grow change, dignity, and a future worth staying for.

This is just my beginning.