The world premiere of Igbokwe’s Awele was nothing short of the mastery and magnificence Cheta wields in weaving an endearing tale of pressing issues. His effortless capturing of the trivial, and its typically magnifying essence to man’s struggle, struck a chord of affinity with quite a great number of attendants, as was reflective in the whispering clamor and nods that suffused the theatre at the fade of light.
As directed by Ugochukwu Ugwu under the auspices of The Maestro Theatre, the unpublished play premiered on the 21st of June at the New Arts Theatre, University of Nigeria, Nsukka. The play mirrors the death and ordeals of unfulfilled individuals in negotiation with a benevolent deity to return to earth, and yet it is not limited within the nooks of this basic premise. In truth, it will be a thing of disdain to the brilliant playwright, the energetic cast and attentive crew to sum this magnificent piece of artwork to a singular interpretation. Northrop Frye is of the opinion that the potency of a literary work is in its ability to birth a multiplicity of meanings and, indeed, Awele reasserts this famed literary truth. It takes a deep dive into one’s soul and raises ripples of questions about their own existence in relation to the vagueness of the afterlife.
The play is set in the exalted chamber of Awele (played by Grace Okonkwo), the patient and compassionate goddess who provides a new lease on life to unsuspecting victims of calumny in their previous existence. By digging into the previous lives of these characters, Awele, alongside Olekota (played by Dansey Original) spotlights the ever abiding tragic-flaw that maims and leads up to the death of otherwise good people. We see the ravaging claws of religion suffocate the breath out of the first woman (Chika Ugorji); the blaring chimes of betrayal in the eyes of the motorcyclist murdered by his lover, a role played by Tochukwu “Teekay” Oguayo; and there is the tsunami of defamation and jungle justice represented by the characters of Mgbada and Ehi as played by Innocent Chisom and Simon Ugwu respectively. Even so, it is not in the mere projection of their individual nuances that make us share in their tragedy; it is in the playwright’s ability to carve a terrain of similitude for the sober audience that draws our empathy to their struggle. With this, the play succeeds in awakening the slumbering awareness that man’s life is a fragile inconsequential thing awaiting a flight.
But much of this awareness, which is in fact a surface scratch, could not have been achieved without the soothing melody of the chorus which intermittently rose and reverberated the theatre throughout the play’s running time of 1 hour and 25 minutes. The music carried the unspoken layers of the plot, one leans strongly on it to tap into the spirit and soul of the story. And in truth, the Maestro crew deserves a worthy mention for making the most common things assume prominence in the performance of a play. For anyone not a regular at the theatre, it might come as something of a surprise on how merely the chorus and lightning can accentuate the potency of a live story.
Moreover, Awele excavates layers of spiritualism and the concept of reincarnation. It echoes how even the best of us is vulnerable to the misuse of freewill, so long as it quenches the human thirst for relevance. Igbokwe puts before us a mirror that reflects the unanswered questions of the afterlife. And it is noteworthy how he achieves it with an alluring charm. It is one thing to present tragedy with the seriousness of tragedy; it is another to present tragedy with tenderness and a playful mastery. For the subject of reincarnation, one would consider such feat unapproachable, let alone achievable, but with a brilliant writer like Cheta comes an assurance of awe. And this is why the audience, clouded in sobriety by the synergy of finesse from the author and dexterous casts, never failed to occasionally puncture the air of the theatre with light-hearted chuckle. Much of this is achieved with the twin characters of Mgbada and Ehi, the two brothers attempting to negotiate their way back to existence, however with varying preferences and ridiculous demands that force the audience into occasional roars. And while this marks the biggest test for Awele’s patience, it is also the unfurling of the play’s basic thrust.
Cheta Igbokwe’s Awele lays bare at least two basic fundamentals: the first being that our chi represented by Awele is compassionate and kind as opposed to some grim depictions of her high-handedness. Throughout the play, one could see how her affectations towards the plight of these characters drive her to discomfort and pity. It is the same kindness that causes her not to hesitate sending them back into the world with audacious blessings. This warmly nature is furthermore projected by the chorus in one of their melodious Igbo renditions on the night, which loosely translates to “Everything good comes from Awele.” Although one can infer her frustrations in dealing with the twin sons of a goatherd, but it does not erode her sense of sound judgment and integrity of promise. This is justified in how she repeatedly asks the boys “What do you want?”, a question that further amplifies her generosity and understanding.
Secondly, man’s insatiable quest for power does not come any better than a desire to lord over his chi as represented by the twin characters of Mgbada and Ehi. “Is it bad for a man to seek something new?” One reckons their repeated question as an attempt to leverage on Awele’s free-spiritedness to outwit her. For what it is worth, Awele in her magnanimity seems ready to grant their ridiculous demand–a hand-held ability to pattern the circumstances and fortune of their next life, but their audacious ploy to dethrone her after their inability to come to a truce ultimately leads them down a tragic end. Achebe describes it as the Nza bird who decided to challenge his chi to a wrestling match after eating a heavy meal. What follows is a bitter-sweet sight for those of us in the theatre. While some heeiid and haaad, others would join Awele in a torrent of laughter; the one she punctuates with the lines: “You look good when you laugh; I hope you laugh last.” A subtle forewarning of the dangers of swaying to the rhythm of the self.
Ultimately, Cheta Igbokwe’s Awele allows us to identify the self in a constant battle with his personal spirit. It ridicules the gullibility of our fragile effort in thinking that humanity can outwit its chi and assume a control of its realities. It punctures the abrasive illusion that destiny in the hands of a benevolent spirit can be haggled. The comic effect of the play’s end brings to the fore the laughable consequences of our conceited will to challenge our chi to a battle, but not only that, it also enjoins us to take a dive into the waters of our heart and explore the likeable ripples of conceit that may abound. Away from the raucous shouts that graced the theatre, under the faint corner of one’s hostel or room, this take-home revelation will forever swoon in the hearts of the many who graced this beautiful, beautiful piece of literature.
Uchenna Edwin Eze writes screenplays and other things. He studies English and Literary Studies at the University of Nigeria, Nsukka.
Recent Comments