by Clare Bayley
Clare Bayley
THE CONTAINER
NICK HERN BOOKS
London
www.nickhernbooks.co.uk
Contents
Title Page
Original Production
Dedication
Characters
The Container
About the Author
Copyright and Performing Rights Information
The Container was produced by the Young Vic in association with Amnesty International. It was first performed at the Young Vic, London, on 15 July 2009, with the following cast:
MARIAM
Amber Agar
FATIMA
Doreene Blackstock
JEMAL
Abhin Galeya
ASHA
Mercy Ojelade
AHMED
Hassani Shapi
THE AGENT
Chris Spyrides
Director
Tom Wright
Designer
Naomi Dawson
Sound
Adrienne Quartly
Dialect Coach
Jeffery Daniel
Fight Direction
Alison de Burgh
The Container was first developed as a collaboration between Creative Partnerships, Thames Gateway and Nimblefish directed by Elgiva Field. It was then premiered at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival directed by Tom Wright in 2007 with the following cast:
FATIMA
Doreene Blackstock
JEMAL
William El-Gardi
MARIAM
Deborah Leveroy
AHMED
Omar Mostafa
ASHA
Mercy Ojelade
THE AGENT
Chris Spyrides
For Chris
Characters
FATIMA, Somali woman, forties
ASHA, Somali woman, fifteen
JEMAL, Turkish Kurd, twenties
AHMAD, Afghan man, fifties
MARIAM, Afghan woman, twenties
THE AGENT, Turkish
The play contains lines in Turkish, Somali and Pashto. As Pashto uses the Arabic script, all lines in Pashto are phonetically transcribed.
Although this play was written to be performed in an actual container, it could also be performed in more conventional venues.
Scene One
A container, which appears to be empty except for some pallets. The drone of an engine is heard. As the play begins, the lorry is heard to come to a halt. FATIMA, ASHA, JEMAL and AHMAD emerge from their hiding places behind and under the pallets. They whisper.
FATIMA. What happened? Have we stopped?
JEMAL. Yes.
AHMAD. Why are we stopping? What is going on?
JEMAL. Keep your voice down.
FATIMA. Someone will let us out.
JEMAL. Shhhh.
AHMAD. What?
JEMAL. I’m listening.
AHMAD. What can you hear?
JEMAL. Nothing, if you don’t shut up.
AHMAD. Did you hear something?
JEMAL. Shut up. There could be police outside.
FATIMA. Police? Outside?
JEMAL. Shut up, do you hear me? Shut up.
Silence.
FATIMA stands and starts to move around.
What you doing?
FATIMA ignores him.
What you doing?!
FATIMA. I’m stretching my legs.
JEMAL. Keep still, can’t you? You’ll make noise.
FATIMA. My leg is dead. I have to move.
JEMAL. Sit down, you stupid woman!
FATIMA. Don’t speak like that to me!
AHMAD. Shhhh. Both of you. You want to get us all caught?
FATIMA. He is so rude, this man!
AHMAD. Just sit down.
JEMAL. I’m trying to hear what’s going on.
AHMAD. Is it police?
FATIMA. There’s no need to be so rude.
A pause.
AHMAD. Can you hear something?
JEMAL listens.
JEMAL. Nothing. I can’t hear anything.
A pause. JEMAL gives up and sits down.
FATIMA. Why have we stopped?
Nobody answers her.
You. Rude man. Why have we stopped?
JEMAL. I’m not the fucking tour guide, am I? I don’t fucking know why we’ve stopped.
FATIMA. Don’t listen to him, Asha. You see? Always so rude. And bad language, too.
The doors are opened. The sudden light is dazzling. They all melt back into their hiding places.
MARIAM enters.
She stands, trying to see in the darkness, her hand over her mouth and nose, because of the smell in there. She retches. The doors are closed behind her. AHMAD emerges.
AHMAD. Where’s the agent?
FATIMA. Where is the food?
JEMAL. Do you know where we are?
The truck starts moving.
FATIMA. We are moving again. Where is our food?
JEMAL. Did you see the agent?
AHMAD. Did he give you some food?
FATIMA. Yes – and water. Where is the water?
JEMAL. Do you know where we are?
Do you speak English?
FATIMA. I think she is sick.
MARIAM. I don’t know the name. The north of Italy. Very north.
JEMAL. Near the border?
MARIAM nods.
The border with Switzerland?
MARIAM. With France. We will go through France.
JEMAL. Good. That’s good. Two, three more days.
MARIAM sits.
MARIAM. How long have you been in here?
AHMAD shrugs.
AHMAD. Is it three days or four?
JEMAL nods.
We came across from Turkey, through the Balkans. We have no food left, and only a little water.
FATIMA. My daughter is very hungry. Very hungry.
JEMAL. Yeah, you always say it’s your daughter who’s hungry, but then you eat all her food yourself, don’t you? Eh?
FATIMA. Don’t listen to this man. He is a very bad man. Very bad.
AHMAD. How long have you been travelling?
MARIAM. I was in Milan for a month. But I left my country three months ago.
AHMAD. The agent, he’s supposed to bring us food, that was the agreement, but he hasn’t brought anything.
JEMAL. Where you from, then?
MARIAM. From Afghanistan.
AHMAD (in Pashto). Pa her ram ghlasp. [Welcome.]
JEMAL. Speak in English.
AHMAD (in Pashto). Hagha khawkh gain chi pam mar sap ho shi. [He likes to know everything that’s going on.]
AHMAD laughs loudly.
JEMAL. We’re all Europeans now. Speak in English.
AHMAD. You don’t like to feel you don’t know what’s going on, do you? She is from my country.
FATIMA. How many more days, then? Two more days?
AHMAD. Could be more.
FATIMA. We’re supposed to stop. He said we would stop. Why didn’t he let us out? It stinks in here.
AHMAD. He was supposed to bring us food, too. Did he give you food?
JEMAL. See how friendly he is? He only talks if he wants something.
AHMAD. The agent said he would –
JEMAL. Yes, yes, he said he would bring food, he said he would stop to let us out, he said many things.
FATIMA. He said he will take us to England.
AHMAD. I don’t want to starve to death inside this lorry.
JEMAL. Starve! You! (He laughs.) Starve!
AHMAD. What?
JEMAL. You don’t look as if you’re starving.
FATIMA laughs too.
FATIMA. He has a good stomach on him.
JEMAL. I can’t see it getting any
smaller.
AHMAD. Now they’re laughing at me. You people. You don’t know what I’ve been through to get here.
JEMAL. We’re all the same here.
AHMAD. Oh yes? I don’t think we are all the same.
JEMAL. What’s that supposed to mean?
AHMAD. We are not all the same. I should not be travelling like this. I am a businessman.
JEMAL. Oh, I see. You’re saying you’re better than me?
AHMAD. All I’m saying is, we all different.
JEMAL. Yes, we’re different. You’re fat. I’m thin. We’ve got no food. But has she? We don’t know.
MARIAM. I have only a little food.
AHMAD. You have some?
FATIMA. And water? You have water?
MARIAM. I have water. I have some bread. And chocolate.
FATIMA. My daughter is very hungry.
She gets up.
JEMAL. You going to take her food?
FATIMA. It’s for my daughter.
MARIAM gives her some bread. She offers the rest of the food to the others.
MARIAM. Please, take it.
JEMAL. What are you going to give her for her chocolate, Mr Fat Man?
AHMAD. It is freely given.
Everyone has some. JEMAL wraps his up and puts it in his pocket.
JEMAL. You should save some for later. We don’t know when we’re going to eat again.
AHMAD. If you’re not hungry now, let someone have it who is.
JEMAL (to MARIAM). You keep some bread for yourself.
FATIMA. Look at us – it’s a shame! So excited for two little bits of bread and some chocolate. But England is a fine place. There is money there. My son says even the street cleaners have mobile phones.
JEMAL laughs.
Yes! It’s true.
JEMAL. Is that the same son who says he’s living in Piccadilly?
FATIMA. Yes. He is waiting for us. He will look after us.
JEMAL. Piccadilly?
JEMAL laughs again.
He’s doing very well for himself, then, if he’s living in Piccadilly.
FATIMA. He has a good job. Good money. He sent money to me to pay agent.
JEMAL. Yeah? What’s that, then? Cleaning toilets? Washing windscreens at the traffic lights?
FATIMA. He says London is a fine city. So big! You can drive in a car for three hours and still you are in London. Think of that!
JEMAL. And what does he say about English people, your son?
FATIMA. They are quite civilised.
AHMAD. The English are good businessmen.
ASHA. English people are kind. They welcome people from all over the world.
JEMAL. Everyone lies to his family back home.
FATIMA. He says the Queen is really German. Her husband is a Greek. And the government are all Jews or Scottish. So, you see, they understand.
JEMAL. They understand there’s enough foreigners in their country and they don’t want any more.
AHMAD. Why do you know so much about England?
JEMAL. Never mind.
FATIMA. He was always my sweetest boy. He always wanted to please his mama. I could have gone to stay with my other son in Holland or my daughter in Belgium. But I said, no! I want to be with my firstborn, my Nuruddin. He wrote to me saying, Mama, you will miss the company of your daughter and in London the weather is very bad. But I say, wherever he is, is where my sun shines.
JEMAL. Insh’allah.
FATIMA. What?
MARIAM almost faints.
AHMAD (to MARIAM). Are you sick?
MARIAM. I am tired.
FATIMA. My sweetest boy. My firstborn.
AHMAD. We don’t want sickness in here.
MARIAM. I am OK.
AHMAD. This bloody fighting in our country. Always fighting. I’m not for the Taliban, but at least when they were in power there was not fighting. You could run a business, live a normal life. You have travelled all the way alone?
MARIAM barely nods, feeling very unwell now.
FATIMA. All I wanted was to get him safe out of the country. And the others.
AHMAD. All we need is to get on with our business. But there is always fighting. It’s not right for a young woman to travel alone. Where is your husband?
MARIAM. My husband is dead.
AHMAD. The fighting, you see? Everyone dead. Women, alone. A widow, at her age. (To MARIAM, in Pashto.) Tas oa khom zai vasty? Kabul? [Where are you from? Kabul?]
What are they going to get at the end of it? No infrastructure. No commerce. No future for our kids.
(To MARIAM.) You are tired, you must rest.
She’s tired. Just a young girl. You see, people like her and me, we just want to make a life for ourselves.
FATIMA. She is sick. Is she sick?
MARIAM. Where can I . . .?
AHMAD. She needs to rest.
MARIAM. I need –
She throws up.
AHMAD. Uh! What is this!?
She’s sick again.
JEMAL. We have to smell that for days now.
FATIMA. She is sick. I said she was sick.
That’s why she didn’t want her food.
AHMAD. Clean it up! Clean it up.
MARIAM slumps down, exhausted.
FATIMA. You clean it up! You the one so friendly.
ASHA gets a cloth, pours a little water on it to wipe MARIAM’s face.
AHMAD. Hey! We haven’t got much drinking water left.
ASHA tends to MARIAM.
JEMAL. Here’s a plastic bag. In case it happens again.
AHMAD. I can’t sit near this stink.
He moves away. ASHA cleans up the sick.
FATIMA. Don’t touch that! If she’s sick, we will all be sick in a few days.
ASHA. Someone has to clean it.
JEMAL. You’d better get used to doing the jobs nobody else wants to do. The dirty jobs. That’s what they’ll offer you in England.
AHMAD. How much longer will we be in here? I can’t stand it. It’s so hot I can’t breathe!
JEMAL. Then get out. Next time we stop, bang on the side, tell the driver you want to get out.
AHMAD dismisses JEMAL with a gesture.
A man like you shouldn’t be travelling like this. A high-class businessman. You should take the plane. First class.
ASHA. She’s resting now.
AHMAD. Lucky for her she can sleep with this stink. She shouldn’t be travelling on her own.
FATIMA (in Somali). Kaalay inta gabaryahay. Hataaban ayada, hadii kale waad jiran. Kaalay. Waxaan rabaa inaan ku’caawiyo. [Come here, girl. Leave her. You will get sick. Come. I need you to help me. Come.]
FATIMA holds up a piece of cloth, with which ASHA will shield her.
JEMAL. Don’t you think it stinks enough in here? Can’t you hold on?
FATIMA (in Somali). Kaalay, Asha. Iloow ninkaas. [Come, Asha. Ignore that man.]
JEMAL groans, lies down and covers his head with his jacket. AHMAD groans too, and lies with his face turned away. FATIMA and ASHA retreat into a corner, where ASHA holds the cloth while her mother squats on the bucket.
AHMAD. Let me out of here. Please. Let me get out. So many days in here – I can’t stand it any more!
Blackout.
Scene Two
As the lights come back up, everyone is asleep except ASHA. After a moment, MARIAM sits up. ASHA moves closer to her.
ASHA. Are you sick?
MARIAM. No. I’m not sick. Thank you. You helped me.
ASHA. I’m not afraid of sickness. In the refugee camp many people were sick. But sick people don’t hurt you.
MARIAM. Your mother is afraid of sickness.
ASHA. She is not really my mother. She calls herself my mother. My mother got sick and died.
This one is my auntie.
MARIAM. Why are you travelling with her?
ASHA. There is no one else left. My father never came back. My mother went to get money from the men on the highway. That’s why s
he got sick. My sister, Salma, was going to look after me when my mother died. But when they took her away, only Auntie was left.
I had to come with her.
MARIAM. Where are you going?
ASHA. To England. She is going to see her son. But I have another plan. Where are you going?
MARIAM. I don’t know. To somewhere safe.
A beat.
ASHA. You are going to England, too. It is safe in England.
MARIAM doesn’t answer.
They all complain about this truck. But I like this truck. In this truck we are safe.
MARIAM. For a while.
ASHA. I came across the sea. I came in a boat. Did you come in a boat?
MARIAM. No.
ASHA. I came in a boat. A very small boat with many of us on it. We saw the police boats, but they didn’t see us in the darkness. There were men with knives to keep us quiet.
You come from far away, like the fat man. How did you get across the water?
MARIAM. There’s no sea. I came by land. By truck. Many trucks.
ASHA. To Italy.
MARIAM. In the end, yes.
ASHA. Where else?
MARIAM. You ask many questions.
ASHA. I’m friendly.
What is your name?
MARIAM. Mariam.
ASHA. Mariam. You came to find someone. Like me.
MARIAM. You are very quiet when your auntie is awake.
ASHA. When she is asleep I find out about people.
You are safe in this truck.
MARIAM doesn’t reply.
I like you. You are a good person.
You are like my sister. They took my sister away. But they won’t take you away.
Why are you going to England?
MARIAM. I told you already.
ASHA. You have a gun in your bag.
I know about everyone in here. Him, over there – (She points to AHMAD.) He has a lot of money.
And him – (She points to JEMAL.) He has food. But you have a gun.
MARIAM. You looked in my bag when I was asleep?
ASHA. Have you ever used your gun?
MARIAM. No.
ASHA. If I had had a gun, I would have used it. The men who took my sister had guns. If I had one, I would have stopped them.
MARIAM. I wish I had never had to see a gun.
ASHA. They left Salma’s baby with me. He cried and cried. I tried to feed him. But no milk would come. I was only a little girl then.
