by Lynn Nottage
MAMA: No, listen—
MR. HARARI: I can’t. She is a country thing, not refined at all.
MAMA: No, listen … I’m talking about Sophie. This will raise enough money for an operation, and whatever she needs to get settled.
MR. HARARI: Sophie?
MAMA: Yes.
MR. HARARI: Why? Operation? What?
MAMA: It’s a long conversation, and there isn’t time.
MR. HARARI: This is more than—
MAMA: Enough for a life. I know.
MR. HARARI: Are you sure? This diamond will fetch a fairly decent price, you can settle over the border in Uganda. Start fresh.
MAMA: I have ten girls here. What will I do with them? Is there enough room for all of us in the car. No. I can’t go. Since I was young, people have found reasons to push me out of my home, men have laid claim to my possessions, but I am not running now. This is my place. Mama Nadi’s.
MR. HARARI: But I’m not—
MAMA: You do this for me. I don’t want the other women to know. So let’s do this quickly.
MR. HARARI: And the doctor’s name is on the paper. I’m to call when I get there.
MAMA: Yes. And you give Sophie the money. The money for the stone. Understand. Promise me. It’s important. All of it.
MR. HARARI: … Yes. Are you sure?
MAMA: Yes.
(Mama reluctantly passes the diamond to Mr. Harari.)
Thank you. I’ll get her.
(Mama quickly exits. Mr. Harari examines the diamond. An Aid Worker comes rushing in.)
AID WORKER: I’m loaded. We have to go now! Now! Three vehicles are coming in fast. We can’t be here.
MR. HARARI: But … What about—
AID WORKER (Panicked): Now! I can’t wait. C’mon. C’mon.
(Distant gunfire.)
MR. HARARI: I have to—
AID WORKER: They’ll be okay. Us, men, they’ll come after us—
MR. HARARI: One minute. (Calling to Mama, off) Mama! Mama! Come! Mama! I—
AID WORKER: I have to go! I can’t wait.
(The Aid Worker doesn’t have time to listen. He races out. The engine revs.)
MR. HARARI: Mama! Mama!
(Mr. Harari seems torn, a moment, then he decides. He places the diamond in his pocket and leaves. Silence. Then distant gunfire. Mama enters, frantically pulling Sophie.)
MAMA: When you get there, he has the money to take care of everything. Settle. Make a good life, hear.
SOPHIE: Why are you doing this for me?
MAMA: Stop, don’t ask me stupid questions, just go. Go!
(She tucks a piece of paper into Sophie’s hand.)
This is my cousin’s wife, all I have is her address. But a motorbike will take you. You say that I am your friend.
SOPHIE: Thank you, Mama. I—
MAMA: No time. You send word through Mr. Harari. Let me know that everything goes well. Okay.
(Sophie hugs Mama. She exits. Mama, elated, goes to pour herself a celebratory drink. She doesn’t see Sophie reenter until:)
SOPHIE: He’s gone.
(The stage is flooded with intense light. The sound of chaos, shouting, gunfire, grows with intensity. Government Soldiers pour in. A siege. A white hot flash. The generator blows! Streams of natural light pour into the bar. Fortune, Commander Osembenga, Simon and Soldiers stand over Sophie and Mama.)
FORTUNE: He was here! I saw him here!
(Osembenga stands over Mama.)
OSEMBENGA: This soldier said he saw Jerome Kisembe here.
MAMA: This soldier is a liar.
FORTUNE: I swear to you! He was here with two men. The same night you were here, Commander!
MAMA: We are friends. Why would I lie to you? This soldier has been menacing us for days. He’s crazy. A liar!
FORTUNE: This woman is the devil! She’s a witch! She enchanted my wife.
OSEMBENGA: Again. Where is Kisembe?
MAMA: I don’t know. Why would I play these games? Don’t you think I know better. He is a simple digger. And me, I wouldn’t give him what he wants, so he tells tales. Commander, we are friends. You know me. I am with you. Of course. Come, let me get you some whiskey—
OSEMBENGA: Funga kinua yaké!
(Osembenga signals to his Soldiers. Chaos. They find Mama’s lockbox, break it open and take her money. A Soldier drags Josephine from the back. They throw Mama, Sophie and Josephine onto the floor.)
MAMA: NO!
OSEMBENGA: This can stop. Tell me where I can find Kisembe.
MAMA: I don’t know where he is.
OSEMBENGA (Points to Josephine): Take that one.
(A Soldier grabs Josephine. He is ready to sexually violate her. Josephine desperately struggles to get away. The Soldier tears away at her clothing. The women scream, fight.)
JOSEPHINE: No! No! Tell him, Mama. He was here.
(Osembenga turns his rage on Mama.)
MAMA: Please!
(Salima slowly enters as if in a trance. A pool of blood forms in the middle of her dress, blood drips down her legs.)
SALIMA (Screams): STOP! Stop it!
FORTUNE: Salima!
SALIMA (Screams): For the love of God, stop this! Haven’t you done enough to us. Enough! Enough!
(The Soldiers stop abruptly, shocked by Salima’s defiant voice.)
MAMA: What did you do?!
(Fortune violently pushes the Soldiers out of the way and races to Salima.)
FORTUNE: Salima! Salima!
SALIMA: Fortune.
(Fortune scoops Salima into his arms. Mama breaks away from the Soldiers.)
MAMA: Quick go get some hot water and cloth. Salima look at me. You have to look at me, keep your eyes on me. Don’t think of anything else. C’mon look at me.
(Salima smiles triumphantly. She takes Fortune’s hand.)
SALIMA (To Osembenga, the Soldiers and Fortune): You will not fight your battles on my body anymore.
(Salima collapses to the floor. Fortune cradles her in his arms. She dies. Blackout.)
Scene 7
The sounds of the tropical Ituri rain forest. The bar. The bird quietly chatters. Sophie methodically sweeps the dirt floor with a thatched broom. Josephine washes the countertop. Mama stands in the doorway.
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.
(Mama anxiously watches the road. Excited, she spots a passing truck.)
SOPHIE (Sings):Cuz you come here to forget,
You say drive away all regret,
And dance like it’s the ending …
MAMA: Dust rising.
JOSEPHINE (Eagerly): Who is it?
MAMA (Excited): I don’t know. Blue helmets heading north. Hello? Hello?
(Mama seductively waves. Nothing. Disappointed, she retreats to the table.)
Damn them. How the hell are we supposed to do business? They’re draining our blood.
JOSEPHINE: Hey, Sophie, give me a hand.
(Josephine and Sophie pick up the basin of water and exit. Mama buries her face in her hands. Christian enters. He whistles. Mama looks up, doing her best to contain her excitement. Christian brushes the travel dust from his brand-new brown suit.)
MAMA: Look who it is. The wind could have brought me a paying customer, but instead I get you.
CHRISTIAN: Lovely. I’m glad to see after all these months you haven’t lost any of your wonderful charm. You’re looking fine as ever.
MAMA: Yeah? I’m making do with nothing.
(Christian smiles.)
Who’d you bribe to get past the roadblock?
CHRISTIAN: I have my ways, and as it turns out the officer on duty has a fondness for Nigerian soap operas and Belgian chocolates.
(Mama finally lets herself smile.)
I’m surprised to find you’re still here.
MAMA: Were you expecting me to d
isappear into the forest and live off roots with the Mbuti? I’m staying put. The war’s on the back of the gold diggers, you follow them you follow trouble. What are you wearing?
CHRISTIAN: You like?
MAMA: They didn’t have your size?
CHRISTIAN: Very funny. Chérie, your eyes tell me everything I need to know.
MAMA: Tst!
CHRISTIAN: What you have something in your teeth?
MAMA: Business must be good. Yeah?
CHRISTIAN: No, but a man’s got to have at least one smart change of clothing, even in times like these … I heard what happened.
(A moment.)
MAMA: C’est la vie. Salima was a good girl.
(Sophie enters.)
SOPHIE: Uncle!
(They exchange a long hug.)
CHRISTIAN: Sophie, mon amour. I have something for you.
SOPHIE: Un livre?
CHRISTIAN: … Yes.
SOPHIE: Merci.
(He hands her a package. She rips open the brown paper. She pulls out a handful of magazines and a book.)
CHRISTIAN: And this. A letter from your mother. Don’t expect too much.
(Sophie, shocked, grabs the letter.)
SOPHIE (Overwhelmed): Excuse me.
CHRISTIAN: Go!
(Sophie exits.)
MAMA: I’m surprised to see you. I thought you were through with me.
CHRISTIAN: I was. I didn’t come here to see you.
MAMA (Wounded): Oh?
CHRISTIAN: And—
MAMA: Yes?
(A moment.)
… Hello, yes?
CHRISTIAN (Hesitantly, but genuinely): I … I debated whether even to come, but damn it, I missed you.
(Mama laughs.)
You have nothing to say to me?
MAMA: Do you really want me to respond to your foolishness?
CHRISTIAN (Wounded): You are a mean-spirited woman. I don’t know why I expect the sun to shine where only mold thrives.
(His frankness catches Mama off guard.)
MAMA: I don’t like your tone.
CHRISTIAN: We have unfinished “business”!
MAMA: Look around, there’s no business here. There’s nothing left.
(Christian looks around. He looks at Mama. He shakes his head and smiles.)
CHRISTIAN (Blurts): Then, Mama, settle down with me.
MAMA: Go home!
CHRISTIAN: What?!
MAMA: You heard me, go the hell home. I don’t wanna hear it. I have too much on my mind for this shit.
CHRISTIAN: That’s all you have to say. I looked death in the eye on the river road. A boy nearly took out my liver with a bayonet. I’m serious. I drop and kiss the ground that he was a romantic, and spared me when I told him I was a man on a mission.
(Mama cracks open a cold beer.)
MAMA: It’s cold, why can’t you be happy with that?
CHRISTIAN: Because, it isn’t what I want? Bring me a Fanta, please.
(Mama smiles and gets him a Fanta.)
MAMA: I’ll put on some music.
CHRISTIAN: What’s the point, you never dance with me.
(Mama laughs.)
MAMA: Oh shut up, relax. I’ll roast some groundnuts. Huh?
(A moment.)
CHRISTIAN: Why not us?
MAMA: What would we do, professor? How would it work? The two of us? Imagine. You’d wander. I’d get impatient. I see how men do. We’d argue, fight and I’d grow resentful. You’d grow jealous. We know this story. It’s tiresome.
CHRISTIAN: You know everything, don’t you? And if I said, I’d stay, help you run things. Make a legitimate business. A shop. Fix the door. Hang the mirror. Protect you. Make love to you.
MAMA: Do I look like I need protection?
CHRISTIAN: No, but you look like you need someone to make love to you.
MAMA: Do I now?
CHRISTIAN: Yes. How long has it been, Mama, since you allowed a man to touch you? Huh? A man like me, who isn’t looking through you for a way home.
(Mama laughs at him.)
MAMA: Enough. God. You’re getting pathetic.
CHRISTIAN: Maybe. But damn it against my better judgment … I love you.
MAMA (With contempt): Love. What’s the point in all this shit? Love is too fragile a sentiment for out here. Think about what happens to the things we “love.” It isn’t worth it. “Love.” It is a poisonous word. It will change us. It will cost us more than it returns. Don’t you think? It’ll be an unnecessary burden for people like us. And it’ll eventually strangle us!
CHRISTIAN: Do you hear what you’re saying?
MAMA: It’s the truth. Deal with it!
CHRISTIAN: Hm … Why do I bother. If you can’t put it on a scale it is nothing, right?! Pardon me.
(Christian, flustered by her response, walks to the door.)
MAMA: Where are you going?!
(Mama watches suddenly panicked.)
Hey! You heard me. Don’t be a baby.
(Christian stops before exiting.)
CHRISTIAN: We joke. It’s fun. But honestly I’m worn bare. I’ve been driving this route a long time and I’m getting to the age where I’d like to sleep in the same bed every night. I need familiar company, food that is predictable, conversation that’s too easy. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, then I’ll go. But, please, I’d like to have the truth … why not us?
(A moment. Mama says nothing. Christian starts to leave, but her words catch him.)
MAMA (With surprising vulnerability): I’m ruined. (Louder) I’m ruined.
(He absorbs her words.)
CHRISTIAN: God, I don’t know what those men did to you, but I’m sorry for it. I may be an idiot for saying so, but I think we, and I speak as a man, can do better.
(He goes to comfort her. She pulls away until he’s forced to hold her in a tight embrace.)
MAMA: No! Don’t touch me! No!
(She struggles to free herself, but eventually succumbs to his heartfelt embrace. She breaks down in tears. He kisses her.)
SOPHIE (Entering): Oh, I’m sorry. (Smiles to herself)
MAMA (Pulling away): Why are you standing there looking like a lost elephant.
SOPHIE: Sorry, Mama.
(Sophie slips out.)
MAMA: Don’t think this changes anything.
CHRISTIAN: Wait there.
MAMA: Where are you going?
(Christian straightens his suit.)
CHRISTIAN: I swear to you, this is the last time I’ll ask.
A branch lists to and fro,
An answer to the insurgent wind,
A circle dance,
Grace nearly broken,
But it ends peacefully,
Stillness welcome.
(Christian holds his hand out to Mama. A moment. Finally, she takes his hand. He pulls her into his arms. They begin to dance. At first she’s a bit stiff and resistant, but slowly she gives in. Possibility. Guitar music: “A Rare Bird” guitar solo. Sophie drags Josephine into the room. They watch the pair dance.)
JOSEPHINE (Joyfully): Go, Mama.
PARROT: Mama! Primus! Mama! Primus!
(Mama and Christian continue their measured dance. The lights slowly fade.)
THE END
In memory of Waple Newton, my grandmother, who introduced me to the art of storytelling. My teacher.
SWAHILI TRANSLATIONS
Atsha makelle Stop the noise
Banga liwa Fear death
Funga kinua yaké Shut her mouth
Karibu Welcome
Kiwele wele Dummy
Kuya apa Come here
Mavi yako Shit
Modja, mbili, tatu, ine One, two, three, four
Pumbafu Stupid
Sante Cheers
Sasa Quick
Sawa sawa Okay okay
Weye You
SONGS FROM RUINED
Original Compositions by
Lynn Nottage, lyrics
Dominic Kanza, music
Dominic Kama Lyrics by Lynn Nottage
A Rare Bird
Dominic Kanza Lyrics by Lynn Nottage
A Warrior
Dominic Kanza Lyrics by Lynn Nottage
PHOTOGRAPHS
by Tony Gerber
In 2004 and 2005, I traveled to East Africa to conduct interviews with Congolese women fleeing the protracted armed conflict in the Democratic Republic of Congo. The women I interviewed recounted raw and ugly tales of sexual violation and torture at the hands of both Rebel and Government militias. I found my play Ruined in their painful narratives, in the gentle cadences and the monumental space between their gasps and sighs. The women felt it was important to go on record, which is why my play is not about victims, but survivors.
Filmmaker Tony Gerber, my husband, took portraits of the women moments after they shared their powerful stories. For more information, please visit his website: www.marketroadfilms.com
—LN
For further information and/or to make contributions, please visit these websites:
Amnesty International
www.amnesty.org
Enough Project
www.enoughproject.org/conflict_areas/eastern_congo
Equality Now
www.equalitynow.org/english/campaigns/african-protocol/african-protocol_en.html
Friends of the Congo
www.friendsofthecongo.org
Global Fund for Women
www.globalfundforwomen.org/cms/issues/overview
Human Rights Watch
www.hrw.org/en/news
International Rescue Committee
www.theirc.org/special-report/congo-forgotten-crisis.html
International Women’s Health Coalition
www.iwhc.org
Mapendo International
www.mapendo.org
Peace Women Project: Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom
www.peacewomen.org
Raise Hope for Congo
www.raisehopeforcongo.org/solutions
UN Action against Sexual Violence in Conflict
www.stoprapenow.org
VDAY: Sexual Violence in the DRC background
www.vday.org/drcongo/background
Women for Women International
www.womenforwomen.org
Kate Whoriskey, second from left, and Lynn Nottage, far right, with five of the Congolese women who shared their stories.
LYNN NOTTAGE’s Pulitzer Prize-winning play Ruined has also received an OBIE, the Lucille Lortel Award, New York Drama Critics’ Circle Award for Best Play, a Drama Desk and an Outer Critics Circle Award (Manhattan Theatre Club, Goodman Theatre). Other plays include Intimate Apparel (New York Drama Critics’ Circle Award for Best Play; Roundabout Theatre, CENTERSTAGE, South Coast Repertory); Fabulation, or The Re-Education of Undine (OBIE Award; Playwrights Horizons, London’s Tricycle Theatre); Crumbs from the Table of Joy; Las Meninas; Mud, River, Stone; Por’knockers and POOF!
