In a nation where history is often whispered and uncomfortable truths are buried beneath layers of political decorum, “Conflict of Lions” by Terence Strong emerges as a bold and unflinching exploration of The Gambia’s darkest hour—the failed coup of 1981, led by Kukoi Samba Sanyang. Initially banned by the People’s Progressive Party (PPP) regime, this novel transforms the events surrounding the coup into a gripping narrative filled with realism and geopolitical insight.
The protagonist, a revolutionary figure inspired by Kukoi, traverses a tumultuous landscape rife with ideological fervor, betrayal, and foreign influence.
Though the story unfolds in the fictional West African republic of Free Guinea, the unmistakable parallels to The Gambia resonate throughout.
Strong does not shy away from the harsh realities of rebellion; instead, he portrays it with harrowing intensity, confusion, and moral complexity. The coup is depicted not as a pristine revolution but as a chaotic eruption of desperation fueled by the cries of taxi drivers, fishermen, and disillusioned youth yearning for change.
The narrative intricately weaves in Libya’s influence, Soviet support, and the looming specter of Cold War politics, offering a profound lens through which readers can understand how global ideologies reverberated through local uprisings. 
The introduction of British Special Forces (SAS) characters adds an exhilarating thriller element, while subtly referencing actual defense pacts and the Senegalese intervention during the real coup.
Terence Strong’s firsthand experiences in The Gambia—interacting with locals, including smugglers, aid workers, and soldiers—imbue the novel with a sense of authenticity and depth. His commitment to soaking in the landscape rather than merely documenting it lends the prose a visceral authenticity that pulls readers into the heart of the turmoil.
The PPP government likely perceived the book as a threat to its monopoly on the narrative. By dramatizing Kukoi’s near-success and exposing the fragility of Jawara’s regime, “Conflict of Lions” boldly confronts the sanitized versions of history. It compels readers to ask the vital question: What occurs when the governed lose faith in their leaders?
Today’s Millennials and Gen Z Gambians inherit a democracy built on precarious foundations. Many remain unaware of Kukoi’s coup beyond hushed whispers and fleeting references. This novel serves not only as entertainment but also as an essential civic education—an urgent reminder that political instability lurks just beneath the surface when institutions fail to uphold their responsibility to the people.
Embracing banned books represents an act of intellectual resistance. It is a powerful means to reclaim history, question inherited narratives, and inspire critical thought. “Conflict of Lions” deserves a prominent place in our libraries, classrooms, and conversations—not as a glorification of violence but as a profound meditation on the costs of silence, inequality, and ideological extremism.
