Against the Tide

Kolski Horwitz

Description

The four plays that make up this collection Thabo Mbeki and Other Nightmares by Tsepo wa-Mamatu; Circles by Tau Maserumule; Comrade Babble by Allan Kolski Horwitz; My Life in the Bush of Ghosts by Lesego Rampolokeng/Liepollo Rantekoa, Stacy Hardy and Jaco Bouwer; The Life and Times of Brett Kebble by Patrick Bond, have, as a linking thread, their confrontation with the ongoing corruption and mismanagement that characterizes the not-so-new liberated South Africa. Stylistically quite different, each breaks new ground in presenting these debilitating features and while tackling political themes head-on, never degenerates into mere sloganeering or counter-propaganda. Indeed, they take contemporary South African playwriting to new heights of 'committed theatre'.

Informations

• Publié par: Botsotso Publishing
• Date de parution: 29 décembre 2013
• Nombre de lectures: 8
• EAN13: 9781990922435
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 8 Mo

Extrait

AGAINST THE TIDE

Three Plays, an Opera Libretto and an Essay

THABO MBEKI AND OTHER NITEMARES Tsepo wa-Mamatu

CIRCLE Tau Maserumule

COMRADE BABBLE Allan Kolski Horwitz

MY LIFE IN THE BUSH OF GHOSTS Lesego Rampolokeng, Liepollo Rantekoa, Stacy Hardy & Jaco Bouwer

O

THE LIFE AND TIMES OF BRETT KEBBLE An essay by Patrick Bond

First published in 2013 by Botsotso Publishing Box 30952 Braamfontein 2017

Email: [e-mail] Website: www.botsotso.org .za

© in the text the authors

ISBN 978-0-9814205-1-6

We would like to thank the National Arts Council of South Africa for funding this book.

Cover, layout and design: Vivienne Preston

Cartoons by Zapiro, Mail and Guardian © 2005-2006, Independent © 2006. All rights reserved

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

CONTENTS

Thabo Mbeki and Other Nitemares Tsepo wa Mamatu

Circle Tau Maserumule

Comrade Babble Allan Kolski Horwitz

My Life in the Bush of Ghosts Lesego Rampolokeng, Liepollo Rantekoa, Stacy Hardy & Jaco Bouwer

The Life and Times of Brett Kebble An essay by Patrick Bond

5

35

51

89

172

Botsotso dedicates this collection to the memory of Liepollo Rantekoa.

THABO MBEKI AND OTHER NITEMARES

Tsepo wa-Mamatu

5

For Kgafela oa Magogodi, Phaswane Mphe, Andile Mngxitama, Xoli Norman, Maishe Maponya, Yolisa Dalamba, Dennis Brutus and Lesego Rampolokeng.

Give thanks to Aluba: Spirit of the forest.

6

Thabo Mbeki and Other Nitemares

7KH SOD\ ZDV ÀUVW SHUIRUPHG DW WKH :LWV 7KHDWUH -RKDQQHVEXUJ LQ  E\ the Collective Artists… directed by Tsepo wa Mamatu.

Characters Griot Mma-Mofokeng: Thabo’s mother Thabo Mbeki: Son of Mma-Mofokeng Olivia: Thabo’s girlfriend Olivia’s Father Village elder (1) Village elder (2) Makwenkwe Nothemba (Linda) Nothemba’s husband Drunken Man -XOLXV 0DOHPD Floyd Shivambu Zanele Mbeki: Thabo’s wife Nobantu Andile Chorus

7

ACT ONE

Beat 1

The gentle strains of the haunting Xhosa hymn, “Yimkhulu Ingummangaliso” can be heard in the dark. The CHORUS is singing gently as African incense wafts across the stage, drifting with the rising light. The voice of an ELDER, reciting the iconic words of Haile Gerima, rises in a counterpoint to the song. ELDER:of the Dead rise up, Spirit  Lingering Spirits of the Dead rise up and possess your bird of  passage –  Those stolen Africans step out of the ocean from the wombs of the  ships  And claim your story.  Spirits of the Dead rise up and possess your vessel.  Those Africans shackled in leg irons and enslaved,  6WHS RXW RI WKH DFUHV RI FDQH ÀHOGV DQG FRWWRQ ÀHOGV  And tell your story.  Spirit of the Dead rise up,  Lingering Spirits of the Dead rise up and possess your bird of  passage –  Those lynched in the magnolias,  Swinging on the limbs of the weeping willows,  Rotting food for the vultures,  Step down and claim your story. The hymn rises with the words of the ELDER as MMA-MOFOKENG, now seated at the feet of THABO MBEKI, washes them. THABO looks crest-fallen. For a few beats or so, we hear the sound of the water, as she sobs. Then she stands up, balancing against THABO, looks at the audience and offers a heightened musical wail. She pauses, composes herself and faces the audience.

MMA-MOFOKENG: All of us walk with burdens. All of us walk with our wounds.We carry our wounds on our sleeves, and speak not much of them, hidden deep in our hearts, the pain of our wounds carry us. He is my son, a lover of my soul, this man. He is my child, so dear and so frag- ile this man, my Thabo. He is so stubborn, just like that tree that grows in my yard. His father was just as stubborn, if not worse. I remember, I remember when I was a little girl, and Govan, my dearest husband, or so I thought, was in prison, there I was in my beautiful dress, ready to see him…

8

Thabo Mbeki and Other Nitemares

THABO moves to take the space of his father in an imaginary cell. While MMA-MOFOKENG transforms into a younger girl, the chorus is singing, “Emakhayeni”. MMA-MOFOKENG wraps a scarf around her shoulders, picks up a fancy handbag; while singing along with the chorus, she makes her way to see ‘Govan’. She arrives at the ‘prison’, the ‘warden’ calls out Govan’s name,’ he’ moves forward, stares at MMA-MOFOKENG but ignores her. MMA- MOFOKENG calls out to him, but ‘he’ continues to ignore her. The warden indicates that time is up, and the chorus, still singing, moves along to where ‘Govan’ is sitting. A sad MMA-MOFOKENG heads home; the song dies with her arrival.

Beat 2

A spot lit queue of men and women characteristically lining up outside MMA- MOFOKENG’s spaza shop. They sing “Bawo Xa Ndilahlekayo” as they wait for THABO to read their letters. The letters are from their husbands in far-away Johannesburg. One of the women (as yet unknown to Thabo) is OLIVIA, the woman who was to later give birth to his only son, Kodwa. THABO starts to read the letter as the villagers listen attentively.

THABO: To my Linda: CHORUS: No-ma-them-ba. THABO: Place: The Barracks  Music: U-bhabha wam…  )RRG 3DS DQG WLQÀVK

BHABHA: Here at the mines, life, she is not that good. I am spending days down deep in the mine…(One of the CHORUS MEMBERS continues from here, as he takes on the guise of a MINER, amusingly and colourfully bringing the text to life.)and I am come up late in the day. Many hours are spent in hardness. I miss you so much, I can fall from the sky, I can fall from the tallest branch in the highest tree top, I can fall from the widest river, IXOO RI FURFRGLOHV DQG ÀVK %XW , ZLOO QHYHU IDOO RXW RI ORYH ZLWK \RX \RX my cabbage, isonka sam’ full of butter, ngoku ngithetha nge butterscotch butter, no jam – not apricot, not strawberry, not mixed fruit jam – tastes as sweet as you. I will post you something soon. But as you know here in the mines we is paid shillings, I will try, I can’t promise but I will try to post something soon. Yours Sincerely, Sandile Rharhabe. THABOsincerely, Sandile Rharhabe.: Yours

9