nyumba - a play
Nyumba is swahili for “home” and it is a play that shows strength and fortitude. It’s based on a personal experience of me dealing with forgiveness issues and never having stability or a “home” to refer to. It comes from a vulnerable place and when people read it I want it to hit them. I don’t want to convey the message of “hide your feelings” but open up and hold your heart in your hands. I want people to know that it’s okay to do so in order to heal and in order to forgive. I wrote the play with the song ‘Motherless child’ repeatedly in the background and it pushed my ideas and my creativity forward. Nyumba is all about forgiveness. Nyumba is all about healing. Nyumba is a place where forgiveness and healing begins. Where growth begins. And where life moves forward. So as you read this, keep in mind the heart. Keep in mind the soul. Keep in mind the beat of Nyumba.
“The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute to the strong.”
-Mahatma Ghandi
Characters:
Narrator - Black, strong, and unapologetic.
Nova (10 and 20 years old) - A half swahili, half african american, 5’0, brown coffee bean skin, and beautiful coarse hair.
John Jackson -Nova’s father. Black, tall, and slender. Grew up on the rough side of Alabama during Jim Crow era, works as a mechanic and fixes cars for a living.
Banou Bello -Nova’s swahili grandmother on her mother’s side. She is short, dark complected, with bags under her eyes. She is witty and spiritual. Loves Voodoo and witchcraft.
David Jackson - Nova’s uncle. Black, falls on the short side, and wide. He is young, unemployed, and looking for something to sustain him.
Unknown number
Nurse - John’s nurse. She is hispanic, short, with long brown hair. She is aging with grace but gets tired easily.
The curtains open. The setting of a stage with nothing but a couch, a kitchen table and few chairs. The couch is worn down and the kitchen table and chairs are on its last legs.
*Motherless child plays in the background while drums play softly*
Sometimes I feel like a motherless child
Sometimes I feel like a motherless child
Sometimes I feel like a motherless child
And I’m a long
Yes, I’m a long way…
Nova enters center stage looking up towards the light
Spotlight on her
10 year old Nova: Gone
Nova begins to look side to side as the beat of the song hits
*music picks back up*
(Nova starts examining herself, covering up her body, trying to hide)
Sometimes I feel like I’m almost done
Sometimes I feel like I’m almost done
Sometimes I feel like I’m almost done
A long way,
a long way from home...
Black out
Lights come back on
Nova’s Father walks up behind Nova
Lights Fade
Lights up on Nova
Nova’s father hands around her mouth
20 year old Nova: (struggling to cry)
Black out
It’s a sunny, hot, and humid day for Belton, Alabama in the year 1997. Nova Bello, John Jackson, David Jackson, and Banou all live in a 600 ft square apartment. An upstairs with 3 rooms and a downstairs with nothing but a kitchen and a couch. Nova, is in her room and rarely leaves her room.
Scene 1:
Narrator: Kuanza
Narrator: War has no eyes. It does not cease after what they see, but ceases after the bittersweet taste of salt infested tears as we cry. It rises when it senses fear, not by eyes but by ears. War has no eyes.
Lights up on Nova
Nova is a 10 year old half swahili, half African American girl born in raised in Belmont, Alabama. She’s a quiet, passive, yet passionate individual who loves to paint.
10 year old Nova: (Nova holds up jeans with blood in the crotch area) Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, no. (quickly hides them in shame)
Father: (walks on stage) Knock, knock. How about you come on into the kitchen.
10 year old Nova: Wh.. wha.. What for?
Father: Just come on… I’ve got a surprise for you (reaches out hand to pull Nova in)
10 year old Nova: (he leads her into a man sitting at the table) What is he doing here?
Father: He’s going to live with us now!
Uncle David: Hey pretty thang, you remember your Uncle David?
10 year old Nova: How… how could I forget?
Narrator: Sometimes
10 year old Nova: It’s… it’s good to see you.
Uncle David: Now don’t be afraid to give your uncle a hug now (his arms extended with a devious smirk on his face)
10 year old Nova: (hesitant) oh.. I’m okay…
Nova’s father pushes Nova in his arms
Uncle David: Aww, there we go.
10 year old Nova: (pushes his hand away) I’m going upstairs.
Uncle David: You don’t want to sit on my lap and talk, sweet thang?
10 year old Nova: (begins to back out, hits her shoulder on the wall) I’m okay… (runs upstairs to her room, shuts the door, and locks it)
Narrator: Uncomfortability becomes comfortability when the touches become too familiar. Silhouettes and dark spaces scattered. Uncomfortability becomes numbing.
Father: (walks upstairs to Nova’s room) (knocks on door)
10 year old Nova: (face stuffed in pillows) Leave me alone!
Father: Nova, you better open this damn door now! You have no right to lock doors up in here!
Complete silence
Father: open this damn door Nova!
The pounding startles the grandmother in the room next to them but she ignores the sound.
10 year old Nova: (begins to hide in the corner) No!
Father: I’m breaking this door down and you will never have a door again! (pounds on door. It falls)
Narrator: I feel
Father: (grabs Nova aggressively) why the hell were you actin like that with your uncle?
10 year old Nova: I… I don’t like him!
Father: Well, you better start liking him because he’s going to be here for awhile. He’s struggling and he needs family.
10 year old Nova: (mumbles under breath) I don’t give a damn
Father: (grabs her arm) what did you say young lady?
10 year old Nova: I said I don’t give a damn
Father: (unbuckles his belt) well, you better give a damn about this
Narrator: Like
10 year old Nova: No! No! Get off of me! Get off!
Father: (puts his hands around her mouth)
10 year old Nova: (muffled cries)
Uncle David: (walks in) This looks like my kind of party (unbuckles his belt)
Narrator: Motherless child
Black Out
Scene 2:
Narrator: Onyesha
Narrator: Walls have ears. And even though they hear the pounding of fist to flesh they create a portal for new life to peer through. Walls have ears. Maybe walls have mouths and speak death upon you.
The next morning, 10 year old Nova decided to tell her grandma what happened the night before. Banou is her swahili grandmother and carries on traditions from her culture into the family.
Lights up
10 year old Nova: (knocks on Banou’s door) Hey bibi (swahili for grandma) Can I talk to you about something?
Banou: Of course mtoto (swahili for baby) come sit, come sit!
10 year old Nova: (fidgets with her fingers) so you know how last night baba (swahili for father) introduced Uncle David?
Banou: Yes mtoto, I’m very pleased with his arrival.
Narrator: Sometimes
10 year old Nova: Well, I’m not… and last night… (she puts her head in the cracks of her palms) last night he… they both…
Banou: Mpenzi! (swahili for sweetheart) What did they do? (she begins to get out of bed)
10 year old Nova: They… they… touched me bibi… they touched me (sobs uncontrollably)
Banou: (grabs Nova by the arm aggressively into the bathroom) Turn the bath water on! Turn it on now!
Narrator: I feel
Nova turns the water on, sniffling and ashamed.
Banou: Now take your clothes off and get in! Do it, Nova!
Nova slowly takes her clothes off, her bruises reveal, and blood from her underwear emerge. She goes in the bathtub. Banou grabs oil and a scrub brush.
Banou: We’ve got to wash this off of you (she scrubs Nova’s body until her skin turns red
Narrator: Like
Blood diffuses in the bathwater
Banou: (she stops scrubbing) Did you start your period?
10 year old Nova: yes
Banou: You are a disgrace mtoto (pours oil down her head and rebukes some kind of demon out of her)
Narrator: I’m almost done
10 year old Nova: (rocks back and forth) I’m sorry bibi… I’m sorry… sorry… sorry…
Black out
Scene 3:
Narrator: Msamaha
Narrator: Water of a mountain stream passes quickly. And soon you will know that sweet water and bitter water cannot come out the same stream. It will pass, but when?
Nova is now 20 years old. She attends a community college in her hometown of Alabama. She left home at the age of 16 and has never heard or seen from her father since. She spends her days in the library, alone and quiet.
20 year old Nova: Hello?
Unknown number: Hi, Nova. You probably don’t remember me but I just called to tell you that your father has a fatal illness and only has a week to live. He had no means to reach you but he wants you to come see him and take care of him for a few days while his nurse is out.
20 year old Nova: (She holds the phone away from her ear and down to her lap, thoughts run through her mind) I can’t believe he expects me… the daughter he raped to take care of his dirty ass.
She picks the phone back up.
20 year old Nova: What’s in it for me?
Unknown number: You’ll get paid what the nurse gets for the days you’re here. But it shouldn’t be about money… this is your father.
20 year old Nova: Father?
Unknown number: Be there Wednesday
20 year old Nova: But why?
Unknown number: Be there, at his house, 8 am.
20 year old Nova: I don’t think this is...
Unknown number hung up
Two days later Nova takes a bus to her childhood house. She’s hesitant but she walks in. The first thing that she sees is her father lying still in a hospital bed near the kitchen. Home again.
Nurse: (hugs Nova as soon as she walks in) Oh, gracias, muchas gracias. You are such a blessing. (she grabs her purse and rushes out the door)
20 year old Nova: No… no problem
Instructions of what to do lie on the kitchen table. She picks it up.
20 year old Nova: (walks over to her father) Hi, dad.
Father: (he opens his eyes slow) Hi, Nova.
Narrator: You owe Nova an apology, “dad”.
20 year old Nova: It’s good to be home (she touches his hand) it’s… it’s good to see you.
Narrator: Now is your chance to express to Nova how all her life all you were was just a lonely, desperate, son of a...
Father: (his voice begins to weaken) Thank… thank you Nova.
Narrator: You show your gratitude. But your gratitude cannot suffice the damage you did. Her scars are ever present and you are only placing band-aid after band-aid but the pain still hurts...
20 year old Nova: (begins to walk around the house, reminiscing) Oh… it’s no problem.
Nova takes a tour around the house. A house she had not stepped foot in since she was 16. She walks up the stairs into her room. Flashbacks play in her mind.
20 year old Nova: Not much has changed around here…
She walks into the bathroom. She sees her 10 year old self sitting in the bathtub.
20 year old Nova: Why… why am I here?
10 year old Nova: For me.
20 year old Nova: (startled and afraid) Who are you?
10 year old: You don’t remember me? The girl who stayed in her room every night to read books. The girl who never had friends. The girl who loved to seclude herself.
20 year old Nova: Okay. I think it’s time for me to go.
10 year old Nova: Don’t leave.
Narrator: Stop running away from your fears. Mourning goes to the one who is brave. You move like fire, you rage in life unknown...
20 year old Nova: Why in the hell would I come back to a place… to a father who took away from me life.
10 year old Nova: But… you’re here.
Narrator: But you’re here.
20 year old Nova: (she turns around) But I don’t want to be… and why are you…
10 year old Nova is gone.
20 year old Nova: (storms down the stairs into the kitchen and pulls out a knife towards him) WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME? WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME? YOU DON’T DESERVE TO LIVE. YOU MADE ME FEEL LIKE I DIDN’T SO YOU JUST NEED TO (she holds the knife up over her father)
Narrator: (prevents her from going forth
Father: (muffled cries)
Narrator: Don’t do it. Let him suffer in silence.
10 year old Nova: Don’t do it.
20 year old Nova: But he deserves it.
10 year old Nova: But his death will not satisfy you, you will still be empty.
Narrator: And all you will be left with is sweet nothing… which will mean nothing. Each cup you drink from the thoughts of good and evil will haunt you...
20 year old Nova: (drops the knife to the ground and breaks down in tears on the floor) why? Why?
10 year old Nova: You deserve to live. You deserve to break free. You deserve to forgive. That will fill you. That will satisfy you.
20 year old Nova: (sobs uncontrollably)
10 year old Nova: (goes over to herself and touches her on the shoulder) Home is where forgiveness starts.
20 year old Nova: I forgive you… I forgive myself… I forgive… give… give… give…
*Motherless child plays in the background while drums play softly*
Sometimes I feel like a motherless child
Sometimes I feel like a motherless child
Sometimes I feel like a motherless child
And I’m a long
Yes, I’m a long way from...
Lights up on Nova, center stage, she looks up into the lights and begins to stand up
20 year old Nova: Nyumba
Black out
END OF SCENE
END OF PLAY