by Lynn Nottage
(The Rebel Soldier strikes a hip-hop “gangsta-style” pose. The other Soldiers laugh. Mr. Harari, unamused, ever so slightly registers the conversation. Mama laughs.)
MAMA: Coltan? Let me see. Ah, that’s nothing, it’s worthless my friend. A month ago, yes, but now you can’t get a handful of meal for it. Too many prospectors. Every miner that walks in here has a bucket of it. Bring me a gram of gold, then we talk.
REBEL SOLDIER #1: What do you mean? Liar! In the city, this would fetch me plenty.
MAMA: This ain’t the city, is it, Soldier?
(He aggressively grabs Mama’s wrist.)
This is a nice place for a drink. Yeah? I don’t abide by bush laws. If you want to drink like a man, you drink like a man. You want to behave like gorilla, then go back into the bush.
(The Soldiers laugh. The Rebel Soldier unhands Mama.)
REBEL SOLDIER #1: C’mon, Mama, this is worth plenty! Yeah?
(Again, he gestures to Sophie. He’s growing increasingly belligerent.)
Bitch. Why won’t she talk to me?
(Frustrated, he puts the cloth back in his pocket. He broods, silently watching Sophie sway to the music. Then all of a sudden he collects himself, and drunkenly makes his way toward her.)
I’ll teach her manners! Respect me!
(He pounds his chest, another Soldier goads him on. Sophie stiffens. The music stops. Mama quickly steps between them.)
MAMA: But … as the coltan is all you have. I’ll take it this time. Now go sit down. Sit down. Please.
REBEL SOLDIER #1 (Excited): Yeah? Now, I want her to talk to me! Will she talk to me?
MAMA: Okay. Okay. Sit.
(He pulls out the cloth again. He gently removes several pieces of the ore.)
Don’t be stingy. Tst! Let me see all of it.
(He reluctantly relinquishes the weathered cloth to Mama.)
(Smiling) Salima! Salima, come!
(Salima bristles at the sound of her name. She reluctantly approaches the Soldier. Mama shows her off to him.)
REBEL SOLDIER #1: What about her? (Gestures to Sophie)
MAMA: Salima is better dancer. (Salima dances, seductively) I promise. Okay. Everyone is happy.
KISEMBE: Soldier, everyone is happy!
(Salima sizes up the drunken Soldier.)
SALIMA: So, “Gangsta,” you wanna dance with me?
(She places his arms around her waist. He longingly looks over at Sophie, then pulls Salima close. He leads aggressively.)
Easy.
MAMA: Sophie.
(Sophie, relieved, resumes singing. Salima and the Rebel Soldier dance.)
SOPHIE (Sings):Have another beer, my friend,
Douse the fire of your fears, my friend,
Get drunk and foolish on the moment,
Brush aside the day’s heavy judgment.
Yes, have another beer, my friend,
Wipe away the angry tears, my friend,
Get drunk and foolish on the moment,
Brush aside the day’s heavy judgment.
Cuz you come here to forget,
You say drive away all regret,
And dance like it’s the ending
The ending of the war.
The ending of the war.
The ending of the war.
(Applause. Mr. Harari tips Sophie. Mama having quenched the fire, fetches her lockbox from a hiding place beneath the counter, and puts the ore inside.)
MR. HARARI: That one, she’s pretty. (Gestures to Sophie)
JOSEPHINE (With disdain): Sophie?! She’s broken. All of the girls think she’s bad luck.
(Josephine leads Mr. Harari to the table. He sits.)
MR. HARARI: What are you wearing? Where’s the dress I bought you?
JOSEPHINE: If I had known you were coming, I’d have put it on.
MR. HARARI: Then what are you waiting for, my darling?
(Josephine exits quickly. Mama, toting her lockbox, joins Mr. Harari at his table.)
MAMA: What happened to your shoes, Mr. Harari?
MR. HARARI: Your fucking country, some drunk child doing his best impersonation of a rebel soldier liberated my shoes. Every time I come here I have to buy a new fucking pair of shoes.
(Laughter from the pool table.)
MAMA: You’re lucky he only wanted your shoes. Sante.
(The Soldier gets too friendly with Salima. She lurches away, and falls against the pool table.)
REBEL SOLDIER #1: Hey!
KISEMBE: Ach, ach, behave, I’m trying to play here.
(The Solider grabs Salima onto his lap. Mr. Harari weighs the situation.)
MR. HARARI (To Mama): You took that poor man’s coltan. Shame on you. He probably doesn’t know what he gave away for the taste of that woman. (To Soldier) Savor it! The toll to enter that tunnel was very expensive, my friend. (To Mama) We both know how much it would fetch on the market.
MAMA: Yeah, so? Six months ago it was just more black dirt. I don’t get why everyone’s crawling over each other for it.
MR. HARARI: Well, my darling, in this damnable age of the mobile phone it’s become quite the precious ore, no? And for what ever reason, God has seen fit to bless your backward country with an abundance of it. Now, if that young man had come to me, I would’ve given him enough money to buy pussy for a month. Even yours. So who’s the bigger thief, you or him?
MAMA: He give it to me, you saw. So, does that make me a thief or merely more clever than you.
(Mr. Harari laughs.)
MR. HARARI: My darling, you’d do well in Kisangani.
MAMA: I do well here, and I’d get homesick in Kisangani. It’s a filthy city full of bureaucrats and thieves.
MR. HARARI: Very funny, but I imagine you’d enjoy it, terribly. And I mean that as a compliment.
MAMA: Do you have a minute?
MR. HARARI: Of course.
KISEMBE: Soldier! Soldier!
REBEL SOLDIER #2: Chief.
KISEMBE: Bring me my mobile! What’re you, an old man? Hurry!
(Mama empties a bag containing stones onto a cloth on the table.)
MAMA: What do you think? Huh?
MR. HARARI (Referring to the diamonds): Just looking, I can tell you, most of these are worthless. I’m sorry.
(Mama takes out another stone, and places it on the table.)
MAMA: What about that one?
(Mama points to the rough stone. Mr. Harari examines the diamond on the table, then meticulously places a loup to his eye and examines it. He looks over his shoulder.)
MR. HARARI (Whispers): Hm. It’s a raw diamond. Where’d you get this?
MAMA: Don’t you worry. I’m holding it for someone.
MR. HARARI (Continues to examine the diamond): Nice. Yes, you see, there. It carries the light well.
MAMA: Yeah, yeah, but is it worth anything?
MR. HARARI: Well …
MAMA: Well …
MR. HARARI: Depends.
(Mama smiles.)
It’s raw, and the market—
MAMA: Yeah, yeah, but, what are we talking? Huh? A new generator or a plot of land?
MR. HARARI (Chuckling): Slow down, I can offer you a fairly good price. But, be reasonable, darling, I’m an independent with a family that doesn’t appreciate how hard I work.
(Mama takes back the diamond.)
MAMA: You sound like old Papa. He was like you, Mr. Harari, work too much, always want more, no rest. When there was famine his bananas were rotting. He used to say as long as the forest grows a man will never starve.
MR. HARARI: Does he still have his farm?
MAMA (Smiling to herself): You know better, Mr. Harari, you’re in the Congo. Things slip from our fingers like butter. No. When I was eleven, this white man with skin the color of wild berries turned up with a piece of paper. It say he have rights to my family land. (With acid) Just like that. Taken! And you want to hear a joke? Poor old Papa bought magic from a friend, he thought a handful of powder would give him back his land. (E
xamining the diamond) Everyone talk talk diamonds, but I … I want a powerful slip of paper that says I can cut down forests and dig holes and build to the moon if I choose. I don’t want someone to turn up at my door, and take my life from me. Not ever again. But tell, how does a woman like me get a piece of land, without having to pick up a fucking gun?
(Mr. Harari cautiously watches the Rebel Soldiers.)
MR. HARARI: These, these idiots keep changing the damn rules on us. You file papers, and the next day the office is burned down. You buy land, and the next day the chief’s son has built a fucking house on it. I don’t know why anybody bothers. Madness. And look at them. (Gestures to the Rebel Soldiers) A hungry pygmy digs a hole in the forest, and suddenly every two-bit militia is battling for the keys to hell.
MAMA: True, chérie, but someone must provide them with beer and distractions.
(Mr. Harari laughs. Mama scoops up the stones and places them back into her lockbox.)
MR. HARARI: Just, be careful, where will I drink if anything happens to you?
(Mr. Harari gives Mama a friendly kiss.)
MAMA: Don’t worry about me. Everything is beautiful.
(Josephine enters proudly sporting an elegant traditional dress.)
JOSEPHINE: What do you think?
(Mr. Harari shifts his gaze to Josephine.)
MR. HARARI: Such loveliness. Doesn’t she look beautiful?
MAMA: Yes, very. Karibu.
MR. HARARI: I just might have to take you home with me.
JOSEPHINE (Excited): Promise.
MR. HARARI: Of course.
(Josephine hitches up her dress and straddles Mr. Harari. She kisses him.)
KISEMBE (Shouts): Mama! Mama!
MAMA: Okay, okay, chief, sawa sawa.
KISEMBE: Two more Primus. And, Mama, why can’t I get mobile service in this pit?
MAMA: You tell me, you’re important, go make it happen!
MR. HARARI: Who’s that?
JOSEPHINE: Him? Jerome Kisembe, leader of the rebel militia. He’s very powerful. He have sorcerer that give him a charm so he can’t be touched by bullet. He’s fearless. He is the boss man, the government and the church and anything else he wants to be.
(Mr. Harari studies Kisembe.)
Don’t look so hard at a man like that.
(Josephine grabs Mr. Harari’s face and kisses him. Mama clears the beer bottles from Kisembe’s table. The Soldier gropes at Salima, he nips her on the neck.)
SALIMA: Ow! You jackass.
(Salima pulls away from the Soldier and heads for the door. Mama races after her, catching her arm forcefully.)
MAMA: What’s your problem?
SALIMA: Did you see what he did?
MAMA: You selfish girl. Now get back to him.
(Mama shoves Salima back toward the Soldier. Sophie, watching, runs over to Salima.)
SOPHIE: Are you all right, Salima?
SALIMA: The dog bit me. (Whispered) I’m not going back over there.
SOPHIE: You have to.
SALIMA: He’s filth! It’s a man like him that—
SOPHIE: Don’t. Mama’s looking.
SALIMA (Tears welling up in her eyes): Do you know what he said to me—
SOPHIE: They’ll say anything to impress a lady. Half of them are lies. Dirty fucking lies! Go back, don’t listen. I’ll sing the song you like.
(Sophie gives Salima a kiss on the cheek. Salima’s eyes shoot daggers at Mama, but she reluctantly returns to the drunken Soldier. Sophie launches into another song. Josephine dirty-dances for Mr. Harari.)
Have another beer, my friend,
Wipe away the angry tears, my friend,
Get drunk and foolish on the moment,
Brush aside the day’s heavy judgment.
Cuz you come here to forget,
You say drive away all regret
And dance like it’s the ending
And dance like it’s the ending
(The music crescendos.)
The ending
The ending
The ending
And dance like it’s the ending …
(Mama watches Salima like a hawk. The lights fade.)
Scene 3
Morning. Living quarters behind the bar. Ragged wood-and-straw beds. A poster of a popular African American pop star hangs over Josephine’s bed. Sophie paints Salima’s fingernails, as she peruses a worn fashion magazine. Salima shifts in place, agitated.
SALIMA (Impatiently): C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, Sophie. Finish before she comes back.
SOPHIE: Keep still, will ya. Stop moving. She’s with Mr. Harari.
SALIMA: She’s gonna kill me if she find out I use her nail polish.
SOPHIE: Well, keep it up, and she’s gonna find out one of these days.
SALIMA: But, not today. So hurry!
(Sophie makes a mistake with Salima’s nails. Salima violently yanks her hand away.)
Aye girl, look what you did! Pumbafu!
SOPHIE: What’s your problem?!
SALIMA: Nothing. Nothing. I’m fine.
(Salima, frustrated, stands up and walks away.)
SOPHIE: Yeah? You’ve been short with me all morning? Don’t turn away. I’m talking to you.
SALIMA: “Smile, Salima. Talk pretty.” Them soldiers don’t respect nothing. Them miners, they easy, they want drink, company, and it’s over. But the soldiers, they want more of you, and—
SOPHIE: Did that man do something to hurt you?
SALIMA: You know what he say? He say fifteen Hema men were shot dead and buried in their own mining pit, in mud so thick it swallow them right into the ground without mercy. He say, one man stuff the coltan into his mouth to keep the soldiers from stealing his hard work, and they split his belly open with a machete. “It’ll show him for stealing,” he say, bragging like I should be congratulating him. And then he fucked me, and when he was finished he sat on the floor and wept. He wanted me to hold him. Comfort him.
SOPHIE: And, did you?
SALIMA: No. I’m Hema. One of those men could be my brother.
SOPHIE: Don’t even say that.
(Salima is overcome by the possibility.)
SALIMA: I … I … miss my family. My husband. My baby—
SOPHIE: Stop it! We said we wouldn’t talk about it.
SALIMA: This morning I was thinking about Beatrice and how much she liked banana. I feed her like this. I squeeze banana between my fingers and let her suck them, and she’d make a funny little face. Such delight. Delight. (Emotionally) Delight! Delight!
SOPHIE: Shhh! Lower your voice.
SALIMA: Please, let me say my baby’s name, Beatrice.
SOPHIE: Shhh!
SALIMA: I wanna go home!
SOPHIE: Now, look at me. Look here, if you leave, where will you go? Huh? Sleep in the bush? Scrounge for food in a stinking refugee camp.
SALIMA: But I wanna—!
SOPHIE: What? Be thrown back out there? Where will you go? Huh? Your husband? Your village? How much goodness did they show you?
SALIMA (Wounded): Why did you say that?
SOPHIE: I’m sorry, but you know it’s true. There is a war going on, and it isn’t safe for a woman alone. You know that! It’s better this way. Here.
SALIMA: You, you don’t have to be with them. Sometimes their hands are so full of rage that it hurts to be touched. This night, I look over at you singing, and you seem almost happy like a sunbird that can fly away if you reach out to touch it.
SOPHIE: Is that what you think? While I’m singing, I’m praying the pain will be gone, but what those men did to me lives inside of my body. Every step I take I feel them in me. Punishing me. And it will be that way for the rest of my life.
(Salima touches Sophie’s face.)
SALIMA: I’m pregnant.
SOPHIE: What?
SALIMA: I’m pregnant. I can’t tell Mama. (Tears fill her eyes)
(Sophie hugs Salima.)
SOPHIE: No. Shh. Shh. Okay. Okay.
SALIMA: She’ll turn me out.
(Sophie breaks away from Salima and digs in a basket for a book.)
What are you doing?
SOPHIE: Shh. Look, look.
(Sophie pulls money from between the pages of the book and empties the bills onto the bed.)
SALIMA: Sophie?!
SOPHIE: Shhh. This is for us. We won’t be here forever. Okay.
SALIMA: Where’d you get … the money?
SOPHIE: Don’t worry. Mama may be many things, but she don’t count so good. And when there’s enough we’ll get a bus to Bunia. I promise. But you can’t say anything, not even to Josephine. Okay?
SALIMA: But if Mama finds out that you’re—
SOPHIE: Shhhh. She won’t.
(Josephine, bedraggled, enters and throws herself on the bed.)
JOSEPHINE: What you two whispering about?
SOPHIE: Nothing.
(Sophie hides the nail polish and book beneath the mattress.)
JOSEPHINE: God, I’m starving. And there’s never anything to eat. I thought you were going to save me some fufu.
SOPHIE: I did, I put it on the shelf under the cloth.
SALIMA: I bet that stupid monkey took it again. Pesky creature.
JOSEPHINE: It ain’t the monkey, it’s Emeline’s nasty child. He’s a menace. That boy’s buttocks would be raw if he were mine.
(Josephine takes off her shirt, revealing an enormous disfiguring black scar circumventing her stomach. She tries to hide it. Sophie’s eyes are drawn to the scar.)
(To Salima) But, if it’s you who’s been pinching my supper, don’t think I won’t find out. I ain’t the only one who’s noticed that you getting fat fat off the same food we eating. (To Sophie) What are you looking at? (Tosses her shirt to Sophie) Hang up my shirt! Sasa!
(Sophie hangs Josephine’s shirt on a nail.)
SALIMA: Tst. (Whispers under her breath)
JOSEPHINE: And what’s wrong with her?
SALIMA: Nothing.
(Josephine suspiciously sniffs the air. Then puts on a traditional colorful wrap. A moment. Salima sits back on the bed. Josephine notices her magazine on the bed.)
JOSEPHINE: Hey, girl, why is my fashion magazine here? Huh?
SALIMA: I … I had a quick look.
JOSEPHINE: What do you want with it? Can you even read?
SALIMA: Oh, shut your mouth, I like looking at the photographs.
JOSEPHINE: Oh, c’mon, girl, you’ve seen them a dozen times. It’s the same photographs that were there yesterday.
