The opening scene of ‘Picha’, a play in Kiswahili, quietens the murmurs from the audience, gripping their attention. The stage lights are turned on, and we see Mwana Kwetu (Suzanne Karani) asleep on a sofa as she is writhing in terror. She lets out a loud scream.
Her mother, Kanini (Lucy Wache), runs towards her to find out what transpired. Trembling, Mwana Kwetu narrates the nightmare to her mother she has just had of her father, Mkwaju Mrefu (Michael Ndunda), inflicting violence upon her.
This opening scene is a flashback and a foreshadowing of the abuse being meted out on Kanini. In the original script, this scene has demonic figures to represent Mwana Kwetu’s battle with her nightmare. However, the play’s director, Martin Kigondu, who applies naturalism in his works, didn’t want to use fantastical creatures.
Scripted by Mohamed Komeja in 1985, the play was staged at the Ukumbi Mdogo, Kenya Cultural Centre, early thismonth. This is the second time the play is performed since its first premiere on stage in 1985.
The raw scripting and characterisation elicited strong emotions from the audience, with some openly sobbing. Komeja attributes his collaboration with the director of the play, Martin, and the cast in the bringing of the story’s depth on stage.
“When writing, I want to incite an emotion as I take people through the plot. I try to avoid stage directing and leave it to the director. The director and the seasoned actors made the play what it was. I got surprised by how the director interpreted the play,” he says.
“Once the writer gives me their work, I ask them to give me the creative freedom. The writer’s job is to bring the story on the page, and the director’s is to bring it to life. Story structure is definitely one of my gifts; I rearrange some scenes to fit the audience according to my style, preference, and skill level,” he says.
Komeja penned the play at a time when conversations centered around social and gender equality, democracy, and female representation were at their peak in the country.
The mood for the need for the development of strong female lead characters spread across social spheres with women leaders like Wangari Maathai causing a revolution, and in texts, the characters Lanina in ‘Kilio cha Haki’ by the late Ali Al’amin Mazrui and Mwana Kwetu in ‘Picha’ by Komeja.
Komeja was overwhelmed to see the audience reacting to his emotional storytelling. “Domestic violence was a relevant issue then, and it is today. It was satisfying and saddening at the same time that issues like gender violence, gender inequality, and incest still happen, yet we don’t talk about that because of our social norms,” he says.
The play was staged during the Kenya National Drama Festivals at Timbila Secondary School in Taita Taveta County in 1985. Immediately after, Komeja was exiled to Norway by the Moi regime.
“In the 1980s, I was among the people victimised for being in an underground movement called Mwakenya. We were agitating for a democratic space through a multiparty state,” he recalls.
At this time, he had written ‘Picha’ and his debut play, ‘Damu Nzito’, in 1983. Since 1986, the seasoned writer with a background in Kiswahili, sociology and political science has been living in Norway, and this has posed a challenge in his Kiswahili playwriting.
“I stopped writing plays because my plays represent the ground of my community, and Swahili has always been my language of writing. I was removed from a community I was writing from and writing for,” he says.
In 2016, Komeja was diagnosed with stomach cancer. His treatment process was accompanied with fatigue and temporary memory loss and resulted in his ability to work only for two hours a day.
To improve his memory, he was advised to challenge his mind by not letting it adapt to his new memory levels. Komeja dusted off his poetry pieces in Kiswahili that span a period of 40 years, and his treatment journey revived his passion for the arts. “I thought, why not go back to reading?
Reading and writing became a therapy to me. I looked at my old plays and poems as a place to start,” he says.
Komeja, who is now cancer-free, reminisces about some of the best Kiswahili texts: ‘Kilio cha Haki’ by the late Kenyan-American Ali Al’amin Mazrui, ‘Mashetani’ by Tanzanian playwright Ebrahim Hussein, and ‘Abjadi Yetu by Tanzanian playwright Peninah Muhando.
He hopes for bolder, truth-telling plays and books in Kiswahili from Kenya. “The Kiswahili set books are acted in schools but in these theatre spaces.
I am happy to see that Martin knew Kiswahili was difficult to sell, yet he took it as a challenge. Indeed, there is an audience willing to watch plays in Kiswahili.
Art is not about whether the audience understands the language but its portrayal,” he says.