adminRaisedon Baya
IN the year 2001 I wrote a play, Witnesses and Victims, as a reaction to the land invasions that were taking place in Zimbabwe at that time. The play, whose power was in the “fluidity of the dramatic narrative” and powerful dialogue, was about a destitute war veteran who suddenly sees his second chance to life and wealth when he is recruited to invade a white man’s farm. Remember that around the early 2000s a lot of war veterans were poor, landless and jobless. Most felt betrayed by a country they had helped liberate. So the main character in the play, Two-boy, takes his wife and joins a group of war veterans who go on to invade a white-owned farm. The invasion itself is characterised by song, dance and violence.
Perhaps the sad truth in the play is that these destitute war veterans were invading the farm on behalf of someone else — someone else too busy or too smart to do the invasion themselves. In all honesty, this was one of the most successful plays I have done. It recorded full houses wherever it went. It had people travelling from different towns and places to watch it. Later it was awarded a National Arts Merit Award for best play in 2003.
Looking back to that play I know it was a reactionary play. As a playwright whose works are mostly inspired by events around him I used the play to react to the political situation at that time. I was also young and prone to outside influences. Nothing wrong with that as long as one is aware of the bigger picture. However, young as I was I did not know that artistes should not merely be recorders of history, but should do more. The role of artistes is also to interrogate history and relate that history to current events. Depth is the hallmark of good writing. So I have learnt. Not that the play lacked depth, it was rich in its own way. But it remained reactionary and patronising, and relegated the importance of history to a line or two in the play. The overall impression of the play was a total condemnation of the whole land-invasion exercise.
According to the play the invasions were wrong, barbaric and needed total condemnation.
Now fast forward to 2015, almost 13 years later, and here I am revisiting the same subject. My new play The Taking looks at land and the invasions of the early 2000. The same issues dealt in Witnesses and Victims. The Taking is not a sequel to Witnesses and Victims. It is a complete new piece. Going through the two plays one can be mistaken to think they were penned by two different writers. The philosophy and approach in the two pieces is quite different. While Witnesses and Victims sought to highlight the violent take-over of the farms The Taking takes a mature look at the invasions and tries to dig for the reasons for the invasions. I must confess that this change in perspective is also synonymous with my growth in understanding African politics, especially the importance of land in African economics and identity. The presentation of the two plays is also different, save for a few similar techniques. For example in Witnesses and Victims a white mannequin is used to loosely symbolise whites and the dream of comfort while in The Taking a white nose and masks are used to symbolise whites. That’s as far as the similarities go.
The Taking is a physical play, using song, dance, mime, and storytelling for maximum effect. Dialogue is only used to push the story forward. With Witnesses and Victims it is the opposite, as the play is dialogue based. In Witness and Victims dialogue defines everything.
The concept for The Taking came to me after visiting one African country and being asked about Zimbabwe’s national narratives and the people or institutions telling these national narratives. The answers I gave shocked me. I realised then that, like most artistes, I had shied away from telling the real stories of our people for fear of being labelled pro-ruling party and consequently losing out on donor funding. But national stories are our heritage. Our wealth. And if these are not properly told — since artistes have left them to non-storytellers to tell — our children and the future generation will inherit distorted and biased narratives. The writing of The Taking was my personal claim to a Zimbabwean narrative. It is a reconstruction of history, told with honesty and my personal touch. It is my first project towards what I call reclaiming national narratives. Reclaiming national narratives from who? One might ask. From selfish political organisations that have personalised these narratives; from NGOs with warped agendas and no national interest and lastly, from pseudo — artistes who have no clue as to the value of these narratives in the future.
The Taking will be at Bulawayo Theatre on 27 February. You can also be part of this “reclaiming national narratives” drive. Together we can go places.
Online Reporter