Nakam. I recently visited The Gambia — home — after six years away. I’d left to pursue my BSc., and apart from a brief visit last December — I hadn’t truly been immersed in the rhythm of the country since I left. Six years is a long time. Long enough for the streets to feel both familiar and foreign. Long enough to see things with fresh eyes — or maybe just different eyes. After all, six years in America changes what you notice too. I wasn’t coming back as some kind of expert. I was coming back as someone who had been away long enough to feel like both a local and an outsider at the same time.
The Observation
A lot struck me. The growth. The energy. The ambition. The noise of it all. But perhaps the most striking observation was one I didn’t expect: just how many service-based businesses had sprouted everywhere. Beauty salons, barbershops, makeup artists, hairstylists, spas — it felt like the personal care and beauty industry in the Greater Banjul Area had exploded. Serekunda. Brikama. Westfield. Kotu. Bakau. Kololi. Brufut. Talented people turning their skills into livelihoods, and it’s a beautiful thing for The Gambia’s economy.
But then I started paying closer attention. Not just to the businesses, but to how customers were supposed to book them.
One afternoon in Westfield, I walked into a barbershop for a haircut. There was already a crowd waiting — guys sitting along the wall, scrolling their phones, just killing time. The barber was good at what he did, but he was doing three jobs at once: cutting hair, answering phone calls, and replying to messages. Someone calling to ask if he was open. Someone else asking how long the wait was. Another wanting to know if he could fit them in later. All while trying to line up a fade. I sat there for 30 to 45 minutes, waiting my turn, watching this unfold, thinking: what if I could have just booked a slot and showed up at my time? What if he didn’t have to answer ten calls just to fill his chair?
That barbershop moment stayed with me. But it was just the beginning.
I started watching how beauty salons, hairstylists, and makeup artists across the Greater Banjul Area handle bookings. And what I found was the same pattern, everywhere, every single day.
Every morning, service providers wake up and start posting. A salon in Serekunda shares a beautifully designed flyer on WhatsApp Status listing six services with prices — massages, pedicures, manicures, facials, lashes, makeup — with two phone numbers and a TikTok handle at the bottom. A makeup artist posts a detailed flyer for her masterclass — limited slots, thousands of dalasi — and the way to register? “Send a DM on TikTok or WhatsApp.” Another artist runs a combo promo — and to sign up, customers need to transfer money via bank transfer or Wave and then call to confirm. A hairstylist advertises her services across three different platforms with three different handles. The list goes on. And on.
The creativity is extraordinary. These service providers are designing stunning flyers, building real brands, and putting in serious effort to attract clients. They’re posting across WhatsApp, Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, Snapchat — sometimes all five platforms in a single morning. The hustle is undeniable. But every single post, no matter how beautiful, no matter the platform, ends the same way: “Call me,” or “DM me to book,” or “Send a message to secure your slot.”
And then I saw the thing that made everything click.
One hairstylist posted on her Instagram story: “Bookings are now open for the week.” Below it, she listed what customers needed to send her: the style they wanted (as a picture), their preferred day and time, and a photo of their current hair. Deposit required to confirm. She had built an entire booking system — by hand — inside Instagram DMs. She was asking each customer to message her individually with three pieces of information, then manually coordinating every appointment from there. It was clever. It was resourceful. And it was completely unsustainable. What happens when ten people message at once? What happens when she’s mid-appointment and can’t reply? What happens when someone’s booking message gets buried under fifty other DMs?
Around the same time, I saw another business owner post on her WhatsApp Status: “If u text me I wouldn’t be able to see it.” Followed by: “I’m only available on call.” She was telling her own customers not to text her — on the very platform she was using to reach them. The tool was failing her, and she knew it, but there was no alternative.
This is the disconnect.
The effort is there — from both sides. Service providers are spending hours every day designing flyers, posting statuses, replying to DMs across five different apps, answering phone calls mid-appointment. Customers are calling, messaging, checking statuses, showing up and waiting in line just hoping there’s a spot. The energy on both sides is incredible. But the tools were never designed for booking. WhatsApp was built for chatting with friends. Instagram was built for sharing photos. TikTok was built for selling products entertainment. None of them were built to be a booking calendar.
And so here we are: service providers taking bookings through platforms that weren’t designed for scheduling, and customers trying to book appointments through platforms that weren’t designed for booking. Messages left on read. Appointments double-booked. Customers who sit and wait for 45 minutes because there’s no way to reserve a slot. Others who can’t get through and give up — or go somewhere else.
I kept thinking about that barbershop in Westfield. About the barber answering calls while holding clippers. About the guys on the wall, just waiting. About the hairstylist manually coordinating bookings through Instagram DMs. About the makeup artist whose registration process spans two social media platforms and three payment methods. About the salon that lists six services with prices on a flyer but gives you no way to book any of them except calling.
What if there was one place — one link — where a customer could see available services, pick a time slot, book an appointment, and pay a deposit? What if the barber could stop answering the phone and just cut hair? What if the hairstylist didn’t have to build a booking system out of Instagram stories?
That’s the question that started everything. And the name? It came to me while I was driving to church — just like that. BookMa — from “Book” and “Ma,” the Wolof word for “me.” Book me. It’s an invitation. And it’s what every service provider in The Gambia is already asking for, scattered across five platforms, a hundred statuses, and a thousand missed calls. They just don’t have the right place to say it yet.
What the Numbers Say
After those observations, I didn’t want to just rely on my own eyes. So I put together two surveys — one for customers and one for business owners — and shared them with Gambians through WhatsApp, iMessage, Instagram DMs, and word-of-mouth forwarding from friends. 116 customers and 12 business owners responded. Here’s what the data told me.
The first thing that jumped out: 81% of customers discover local businesses through WhatsApp Status updates. That’s not Instagram. That’s not Google. It’s WhatsApp statuses — the ones that disappear after 24 hours. TikTok came in second at 76%, followed by word of mouth at 53%, and Instagram at 45%. Businesses are being discovered on platforms built for commerce sharing memes and dance videos.
When it comes to actually booking or ordering, the picture is fragmented. 35% of customers DM on social media. 33% call. 29% send a WhatsApp message. There’s no single channel — customers are spread across every platform, and business owners have to monitor all of them.
But here’s the number that hit hardest:
68% of customers said they’ve tried to reach a business and couldn’t.
Not once, not as a fluke — 25% said it happens always, and 43% said it happens occasionally. Only 7% said they’ve never had this problem. That means for every ten customers trying to book a service, seven of them have been left hanging at some point.
One customer put it bluntly:
“Slow replies or being left on seen. Prices changing depending on the customer. No clear price list, so you always have to ask.”
Another said:
“Whenever you want something from them, instead of putting their prices on their post, they ask you to DM them.”
The frustration isn’t subtle.
And when I asked customers the big question — if there was an app where you could see local businesses, browse their services with prices, and book directly, would you use it? — 97% said yes. 78% said “definitely yes.” 3% said probably not Let’s not talk about the other 3%.
The most wanted features tell the story too:
- 85% want to browse services and prices upfront
- 70% want mobile money payment through the app
- 61% want to read reviews from other customers
- 55% want to place orders or book without calling
- 49% want to see which businesses are open right now
On the business owner side, the sample was smaller — 12 responses — but the signal was clear. Half were in beauty and salon services. TikTok was their top platform at 83%, followed by WhatsApp at 67%. Their customers mostly reach them through WhatsApp messages and calls, and 75% of owners admitted they miss messages at least once a week. One owner’s biggest challenge? “Customers calling past bedtime.” Another: “People show interest but don’t follow through.” Another simply: “Late bookings.”
When asked if they’d use a booking platform, 10 out of 12 said “definitely yes.” And half said they’d pay for it — if it brings more customers.
The data confirmed what my eyes had already seen: the demand is there on both sides. Customers want a better way to find, browse, and book. Service providers want a better way to be found, show their work, and manage their schedule. The gap between them isn’t willingness — it’s infrastructure.
The Problem Nobody Talks About
Here’s what’s strange: everyone knows the system is broken. Business owners know it. Customers know it. And yet nothing changes. Why?
Because it works — just barely. The barber still fills his chair, even if he has to answer twenty calls to do it. The hairstylist still gets bookings, even if she loses a few in her DMs every week. The customer still gets their nails done, even if it takes three attempts to reach the salon. The system doesn’t fail in a dramatic way. It just leaks. Slowly. Quietly. A missed message here. A lost customer there. A booking that never happened because someone gave up after the second unanswered call.
And because it still kind of works, nobody feels the urgency to fix it. The pain is real, but it’s spread across a hundred small moments, repeated every day, by thousands of people across the Greater Banjul Area.
There’s also no obvious alternative. You could try Calendly or Fresha — tools built for the Gambian market salons in London and New York. They assume your customers have email addresses, credit cards, and reliable internet. They don’t support Wave. They don’t work on low-end Android phones. They weren’t built for the Gambian market.
So business owners stick with what they know: WhatsApp, Instagram, phone calls. Not because it’s good, but because it’s familiar.
But familiarity isn’t the same as function. Every missed message is a missed sale. Every hour spent managing DMs across five apps is an hour not spent doing the actual work. The barber who answers ten calls during one haircut isn’t just multitasking — he’s being productive splitting his attention in a way that makes everything worse.
The problem nobody talks about isn’t that the tools are broken. Everyone knows that. The problem is that nobody has built the right alternative — one that actually fits how Gambian businesses and customers operate.
The Bigger Picture
Walk through any market or street in Serekunda, Brikama, or Westfield and count the beauty businesses. Salons. Barbershops. Makeup studios. Nail techs. Lash artists. Braiders. Wig specialists. The beauty and personal care industry in The Gambia isn’t just growing — it’s booming.
Young people are entering the workforce and looking for ways to earn on their own terms. Beauty is a skill you can learn without a university degree. The startup cost is low — a chair, some tools, and a WhatsApp account is enough to get started. Social media makes it possible to build a client base from your living room. And the demand is constant — people will always need haircuts, braids, facials, and nails done.
The people running these businesses are smart, creative, and hardworking. They design professional flyers. They build brands on TikTok. They know their customers by name. But here’s the gap: the industry has gone digital in how it markets, but it’s still analog in how it operates. Service providers are using 2026 tools to promote and 2006 methods to book.
The Gambia has all the ingredients — the entrepreneurial energy, the digital adoption, the customer demand. What’s missing is the bridge between “I saw your flyer on TikTok” and “I’m booked for 3pm on Saturday.”
What If There Was a Better Way?
Picture this. You see a hairstylist’s work on WhatsApp Status — beautiful braids, exactly what you’ve been looking for. Instead of DMing her and waiting hours for a reply, you tap a link in her bio. You see her services with prices. You pick what you want. You see available time slots. You pick Saturday at 2pm. You pay a small deposit through Wave. Done. Confirmation sent. No DMs. No phone calls. No back-and-forth.
Now picture this from the other side. You’re a makeup artist. It’s Monday morning. Instead of posting on five platforms and spending two hours replying to “how much?” DMs, you check your dashboard. Three bookings confirmed. Deposits collected. You share one link on your WhatsApp Status, your Instagram bio, your TikTok profile. Customers book themselves. You focus on your craft.
Not a complicated app with a hundred features. Just the basics done right — a profile with services and prices, a calendar with available times, a booking link that works on any platform, mobile money for deposits, and notifications so both sides know what’s happening.
One link. One place.
BookMa. — Book me. That’s all it needs to be.
Thanks for reading. Jerrejeff.
