It started with Tin.
From a winter trip in 2005 to a school for 200 children. Twenty years in four chapters.
A winter trip. A T-shirt seller. A promise.
Guy Borrey — a plumber from Lille, Belgium — and his partner Tina were looking for winter sun in 2005. Egypt was out because of the attacks. Israel because of the war. Tina said: why not Gambia? They knew no one there.
On the beach they met a man selling T-shirts. They didn’t want a T-shirt, but they wanted to talk. He said: “I have a school here. And like most schools in Gambia, we don’t have money.” They went to visit. They promised to come back.
Tin died in 2008. Guy could have stopped. He didn’t. Every classroom built since is dedicated to her.
Sindola, year by year.
A building is first rented — Sindola is founded (means “home” in Mandinka).
Just got a pencil — still not quite sure what to do with it.
A bit shy on the first day.
This “crowd” (about fifty kids) has to somehow fit in the classroom.
This “crowd” (about fifty kids) has to somehow fit in the classroom.
Nothing to hang the board on the wall with — it leans against the bricks.
No place to write.
No money for notebooks — everything goes to rent.
Money raised to buy our own land — the cleanup begins.
A short lunch break to catch our breath.
Building a “watchman’s house” with reed mats.
Working till dark.
Coating the walls with mortar — then finishing with colourful paint.
Installing a pulley to draw water from our well.
Preparing the well — we’ll need lots of water for our homemade “mud blocks.”
Mixing sand, pouring it into moulds.
Left to dry in the sun.
Finishing the classrooms. The official opening, with family from north and south — the goat is ready for the feast. Everyone wants to say a few words.
Now it’s real — chairs collected.
Still no desks, but a board on the wall.
Tables and chairs delivered — tested straight away.
Do they fit in the classroom?
Decorations and “reminders” on the wall — finally starting to look like a real classroom.
Our new project: a vegetable garden.
Plenty of mangoes.
And a chicken coop.
What our “watchman’s house” looks like after ten years — leaks in the roof, walls giving way.
Time for a new house.
Two separate bedrooms — a bit more privacy.
The well silted up and collapsed from heavy use — time to dig deeper and concrete the walls.
Everything by hand, bucket by bucket.
Water again, smooth walls — hopefully it holds for years.
Reinstalling the pulley…
All cleaned up.
The school in full swing — classrooms, children, daily life in Serekunda.
The concrete floor slab.
Plastic against damp, weaving the rebar.
Then concreting.
And… making concrete blocks again.
Finally moving forward again — walls going up.
The government announced everything would reopen — but no children or teachers anywhere to be seen.
We went all the way to the Ministry of Education to plead our case. They threw their hands in the air: “we cannot intervene in local disputes.” Nothing left to do but move.
We took over a school that was struggling financially and restarted on September 1st — back in Serekunda, the country’s biggest city, with less local politics. We immediately added two classrooms to make room for year seven; another follows next year for year eight. This way every pupil can stay from the first year to the last.
This time properly — by the book.
Making blocks for the umpteenth time — but no sand blocks now, we use cement.
Digging the foundation trench — deep enough that we can add a floor later if needed.
The right kind of stones delivered.
Mixing sand and cement, then adding the stones.
Add water and we have concrete.
Filling the trench — placing rebar for the vertical columns at the same time.
The next chapter is now.
In September 2026 we open three new classrooms. You can be part of it.
Donate