Durban Dialogues, Indian Voice: Five South African Plays

Plays

A Critical Overview

Literature has always held up a mirror to society, and this has been no truer than in South Africa. Drama, in particular, has been a robust genre, being part of the warp and weft of the liberation struggle during the apartheid years. Our pantheon of dramatists, many internationally acclaimed, such as Athol Fugard, Lewis Nkosi, Ronnie Govender, Muthal Naidoo, Kessie Govender and Kriben Pillay, have relentlessly exposed South African society to itself, and to the world.

Ashwin Singh, prolific and versatile Durban playwright, director and producer, is among those who has continued to depict the challenges of South African life in contemporary times, and it is good that his compendium of plays, Durban Dialogues, Indian Voice is now being brought to a wider audience.

Ashwin Singh’s plays show that social transition in the current South African multicultural landscape, after political change, is not automatic and assured. We have to work together to create a brave new world. The plays contribute to the deepening of our democracy in that they prompt a critique of many emerging issues in the present time, as we ask: whither the rainbow nation?

The plays are driven by ideals of fair play, equity, freedom and justice, and the longing for a free, non-racial, non-sexist society. Dealing with post-1994 issues pertinent to our prolonged transition in South Africa, they show a betrayal of the ideals of the liberation (‘orgy of greed’), but do not descend into cynicism. Ashwin Singh is clearly writing out of great rootedness in and compassion for the world around him. As Fugard had stated, ‘Love is the only energy I’ve ever had as a writer. I’ve never written out of anger, although anger has informed love.’

Ashwin Singh’s plays show that he is attentive to the living drama of current cross-racial relationships, complex racial and class dynamics, issues of ethnicity and intra-group politics, as he exposes the absurdities of race, gender and class discourses, both old and new. The interplay of past and present (Reoca Light), with the interweaving of loss and unsettling change, in the context of personal lives, is poignant and dramatic. The allusions to generational differences, the vulnerability of the aged, the creeping social malaise, crime, and the pressures of material mobility, show a consciousness that is alert to the changing dynamics of the world around us.

The plays are grounded in a kaleidoscope of material reality. They deal with issues of survival, unemployment, poverty, changing lifestyle patterns (where old family stores give way to malls, as in Spice ’n Stuff); there are the familiar experiences of blue lights, trackers, the body corporate, black-market trading and changing circumstances through loss of livelihood (Duped and To House); and we encounter the modern popular world of South Africa has Talent, and Idols (Duped), or of changing demographics with the coming of the ‘Pakistanis’ and ‘Chinese’ (Spice ’n Stuff).

The plays establish Ashwin Singh as a Durban writer and playwright, as he deftly explores changing trajectories of ordinary, everyday life in the city. In some ways his plays are akin to the project of ‘Undressing Durban’, as they take us away from the neon lights and ‘candy-floss’ to the reality of the underbelly of post-apartheid urban and suburban existence. They remove the lid off marginal or hidden spaces, attentive to the struggle for survival in the city against the backdrop of the official story of the South African ‘miracle’. The recourse to salvation, for example, in ‘casino capitalism’, literally, as in the play Beyond the Big Bangs, shows that for some souls the much-hoped-for Promised Land is retreating. This is also a Durban, set against the hinterland of the rest of the African Continent and of global politics, which is inevitably shaping the imaginaries emerging in South Africa at the present time.

An interesting feature of the plays is the use of a mix of characters, especially Indian, Coloured and African characters, living cheek by jowl in various configurations of relationships, and in collusive or combative dialogue with one another. At the same time, there is no bland, predictable stereotyping. If anything, there is an exposing of stereotyping and an attempt to move away from a persistent apartheid optic. Through his dramatic presentations, Ashwin Singh clearly has his finger on the pulse, seeking provocative and perceptive ways of depicting the shifting terrains of social relationships in our world, but never eclipsing the histories of individuals that have shaped them in different ways.

In a time, arguably, of diminishing intellectual and communal spaces for dissent and protest or even celebration, theatre in South Africa continues to claim its right to explore the fault-lines and fissures of our society, and to create new and more inclusive social alignments. The use of comedy, as in Ashwin Singh’s plays, where people come together to laugh at themselves and one another, but also engage in serious reflection and circumspection about our collective foibles, lifts us out of our post-apartheid depression and lovelessness.

Durban Dialogues, Indian Voice indisputably contributes in its own distinctive way to maintaining an agile and engaged South African public, providing spaces to laugh and to cry, contest or concur, satirise and empathise, think and re-think… They provide, in their own inimitable way, possibilities to re-imagine and re-create a new society in South Africa. As Milan Kundera has noted in The Book of Laughter and Forgetting, ‘To laugh is to live profoundly.’

Dr Devarakshanam Betty Govinden

Senior Research Associate, University of KwaZulu-Natal

Summary and Analysis

My earliest recollection of Ashwin’s acumen in the dramatic arts was when we were children. He would create original stories and perform them with vigour and enthusiasm, unperturbed by the fact that I would remonstrate that there must always be a happy ending. His artistic compromise was that he would provide a choice of endings – the audience-appeal ending which received ecstatic applause from me, and the director’s cut which was met with muted disdain that I would not share my stash of sweets with him.

Two fundamental principles are evident from those early experiences. Firstly, that the stories were unashamedly original and reflected the tapestry of our lives with passion and integrity. Secondly, that these stories deserved to be told and were missing from the dialogues of the literary works we were studying in our childhood. I had discovered that as an audience member or a reader, I was no longer a passive recipient but fully capable of engaging with a text that spoke to my mind and exhilarated my heart.

There is no better example of such an enthralling engagement than my reading of Ashwin’s play To House. To House explores the complexities and changing paradigms of living in a multi-cultural sectional titles scheme amidst an emerging South African democracy whereby stability of home, job security, family values, intergenerational relations and interpersonal conflict are brought to the fore. Much of the world seemed convinced that South Africa was engaging in a ‘honeymoon phase’ in the early days of liberation and that colour, creed and class were no longer divisive factors. To House exposes the underbelly of society’s discomfort with dealing with cross-cultural relations as it implodes into our living space.

The harsh and aggressive discourse and the references to sexual expressiveness highlight our basic instincts as human beings while cleverly challenging racist assumptions. The use of food as an opportunity to connect characters, suggests from a psychodynamic perspective, the characters’ over-indulgence in oral gratification due to a deeper emotional connection not being fully realized. The characters have a loose association with each other. This appears to be a deliberate choice by the writer in order to demonstrate that although their lives intertwine in terms of where they live and where two of them work, they choose not to connect beyond superficial engagements with each other. The play offers a wonderful vehicle to challenge one’s own perceptions of shared history, the vicissitudes of the now and the willingness to develop a future as an integrated community.

Duped is a satire which is set on an airship designed to carry out covert operations for the South African government to safeguard the security of the country and international delegates visiting our shores. The cleverness of the work is the multi-faceted themes of ‘Big Brother is watching’ as South Africa enters the realms of international politics; the threats of internal security and challenges of maintaining a productive workforce; gender politics; and the jostling for power along race and class divides. I believe the standout genius in the play is when the ship’s American designer, Mr. Johnson, takes out his latest invention, a reconciliatory chip, and extols: ‘It’s time to forgive me.’ Images of our Truth and Reconciliation Commission come flooding to mind and the path of the healing of our nation following the atrocities of Apartheid are juxtaposed against the positioning of our democracy in present day South Africa. Have we been naïve in claiming a Rainbow Nation? Have the politics of our country aligned with international party politics to provide a monetary value to freedom? It is particularly noteworthy how theft and greed needle through the story, from the ranks of the officials to the fabric of society until it knits a blanket of deception and covers their foibles.

The opening scene of Duped has the airship being ‘battered’ by another jet almost as if to subdue it while the closing scene alludes to the possibility that the chief officers can contemplate some semblance of normality in ordinary pursuits. The play ultimately has an optimistic feel that we can emerge from protracted and vicarious trauma and work in unison as a nation, albeit with compromised ambitions. The hilarious nature of the content allows the reader to laugh at the characters while becoming neither cynical nor judgmental.

A unique take on gender politics is realised in the contrasting positions adopted by Sandra Snyman, the ship’s captain, and Luke Jedison, the ship’s former engineer. Sandra feels like she often has to defend her job title as being legitimate and the result of her professional credentials rather than being influenced by gender favouritism. Luke disguises himself in women’s clothing in order to have a secret meeting and then admonishes passers-by for ‘flirting’ with him. It is a modern examination of patriarchal systems that confine women to stereotypes. The play acknowledges the paramount roles women play in society.

Spice ’n Stuff takes the depiction of women as mothers, wives, employees, employers and friends further by engaging the central character, Rita, in all of these roles. Rita is a shop owner who faces economic and personal challenges in having a spice shop in a street formerly known as Grey Street, which is located in Durban’s central business district. This historical street was where Indian traders were allowed to operate their businesses during the days of Apartheid. Over the years it evolved and included other communities. Rita’s life epitomises that of living in uncertainty. It is usually during such conditions that the external threats to survival and the internal turmoil of personal indiscretions form the catalyst to redefining one’s identity. It is a moving tribute to the multi-layered dimensions of womanhood and suggests that the writer has a keen understanding of gendered identities.

In the anthology, Spice ’n Stuff seems to best capture the pulse of the city as the shopkeepers and vendors try to scrape out a survival. It traces the last days of a group of Grey Street traders as they deal with escalating crime, failing businesses, friendships across racial and cultural denominations and entwined family relationships. The play is certainly not without hope and the pursuit of a dream, sometimes within redefined parameters, drives the heart of the play. The very real nature of Rita as she interacts with the people of the city and is humbled by her experiences makes her an endearing character and enables the reader to engage with her identity. Her questioning of stereotypical notions of womanhood makes for poignant reading.

Reoca Light is perhaps Ashwin’s best tribute to the art of traditional storytelling. It is the only one-person play in the collection and traces the history of a family who had first arrived in South Africa as indentured labourers having relocated from India. The great, great grandfather had dreamed of having a convenience store, a dream which is finally realized by the fourth generation of the original settlers. It is a moving story of unsung heroes and community values and has at its core a sensual nature and spiritual depth.

Sunil, a teacher, has been approached by the local newspaper to comment on his father closing the convenience store following a spate of burglaries and assaults, the last of which has resulted in his being hospitalised. What transpires is that the reporter discovers that Sunil had penned several unpublished stories about the people closely associated with the store and particularly the hut, which is behind the store. Sunil agrees to reveal these stories and through the process celebrates the people who have most influenced his life. It is a refreshing tribute to the survival of oppressed and marginalised people and interrogates the development of a small town community by acknowledging the heroes and exposing the insular nature of some community members who demonstrated racism and secularism. The writing in Reoca Light has a lyricism to it and serves as a reminder of the beauty of sharing stories across generations. It is sad that families seem to seldom spend time recollecting shared histories and remembering the individuals who made significant contributions in their lives. It was therefore wonderful to read a play which was a call-back to oral traditions.

Beyond the Big Bangs tracks a day in the life of three female characters both as they interact with each other and in their individual engagements of the day. I believe the structure of dialogues and long monologues is quite unique and is testimony to the skills of a writer who can command the attention of his reader through diverse and interrelated anecdotes.

Sandra is a domestic worker who has been asked by her employer to work on a Saturday because her culinary and domestic skills are required to make an impression on the guests who will be arriving during the weekend. Gita is a grandmother who lives with her family and chooses to go gambling whenever possible. Lindiwe is a teacher who has to report to a disciplinary hearing following assaulting a student who had frequently provoked her and had made a racist statement. Sandra and Lindiwe work in the area where Gita resides which provides the opportunity for their meeting but it is their individualism and integrity that results in them connecting emotionally. Each character is quite different from the other, possessing contradictions, insecurities and strengths. The value in reading a slice in the life of each of them is that it allows the reader to engage with the façade and then it explores the emotional drive and centredness of the women.

It is not uncommon that the risk of writing about a gender which is not your own may result in an idolising of the characters which then becomes sentimental and stereotypical. Much of the writing made me laugh uproariously and then there were moments which moved me to tears. To create that level of balance is quite a profound skill. The theme of identity construction by virtue of how we are defined in the workplace, to what our race identification may suggest about us, to our life-stage in terms of being an elder in a society which embraces youth, is beautifully constructed and exemplifies a woman in action and within a context.

The anthology is deeply moving, embedded with humour, rich in character construction and has themes that are powerful and engaging. A play can never be solitary and must therefore be constructed with a view to be staged and subjected to audience participation. With this in mind, it must be a humbling process for the artist to watch an audience engage with one’s vision and see one’s works realised. I enjoyed dramatising the various roles as I read through the dialogues and could appreciate myself shifting positions as I temporarily adopted the various personalities of the characters. I applaud the honesty and integrity that has been maintained in the dramatising of the stories that form part of Ashwin’s anthology of plays.

Shantal Singh

Clinical Psychologist

Theatre Producer and Director

TO HOUSE

Characters

Jason(42)A former businessman who is struggling with his displacement in society. He is losing control over his physical space, emotional constitution and political stature in the community.

Sibusiso(29)A law lecturer who emerges as being strongly self invested and willing to assert his ascendance to power. He has a deeper emotional core but is driven to achieve material success in the face of an underprivileged upbringing.

Sanjay(32)A law lecturer who is desperately trying to find a sense of security. He has to determine his role within the personal space of other people.

Kajol(28)Sibusiso’s live-in girlfriend, she’s a marketing officer who is assertive and independent. She has forsaken some of her family because their views conflict with those of her own in terms of their poor regard for her relationship with Sibusiso and the inappropriate treatment of her mother.

Deena(53)Kajol’s uncle, a successful entrepreneur who is driven by a need to assert his power within his family and in the business sphere. He is adamant that inter-racial relationships should be discouraged and is willing to entrench this belief at all costs.

Nimrod(35)A gardener in the sectional titles complex, he is a dignified and hardworking man. He goes about his business in a quiet and deliberate manner, and whilst he may not be fully aware of the enmeshed relationships in the complex, he has a philosophical nature.

Setting

Oaklands, a sectional titles scheme, in a middle class post-Apartheid suburb in the city of Durban.

Socio-political Context

To House is set during the time that much of the international community perceived as the honeymoon period for South Africa. This was a period between the mid 1990s and the early years of the new millennia, during which time the iconic Nelson Mandela served as South Africa’s first democratically elected president and then Thabo Mbeki served his first term as president. Most of the action of the play occurs on one afternoon and the last scene happens on a particular morning two weeks later. However, the author is suggesting that the play’s events could have occurred at any time during this honeymoon period.

The first decade of South Africa’s democracy was characterized by genuine attempts at reconciliation, driven by Mandela’s inspired leadership and institutions like the Constitutional Court and the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. It was also a period of sound macro-economic policy. However, the stench of Apartheid had not completely dissipated and the majority of South Africa’s black African population still lived in abject poverty. The transformation of emergency services, public health, education and the housing sector was happening at an alarmingly slow pace. There were still many racist people in South Africa, black and white, but perhaps most significantly, South Africa was shifting towards a class-based struggle. The idea then that we were experiencing a honeymoon period was superficial and inaccurate.

To House examines the complexities and contradictions of South Africa’s evolving democracy and poses a fundamentally important question – how do we live together? It exposes South Africa’s shift towards more subtle forms of racism, which are mainly revealed in our boardrooms and living rooms and also focuses on the increasing class divisions across cultural denominations.

The title To House means to accommodate. The full range of the meaning of these words across South Africa’s multi-cultural milieu are explored in this play.

Recommended Set Design

The action takes place in two lounges, which are almost identical in terms of furniture and styling, and the park opposite the sectional titles scheme. It is recommended that one physical space be used to represent the two lounges with the coffee table being removed and replaced for the relevant scenes, and a variation of lighting to emphasize the difference. The lounge setting will occupy the bulk of the stage. The common furniture includes a recliner, a two-seater couch, a side-table and a drinks table. The park design, which consists of a park bench and a fir tree, occupies the far left stage. Alternatively, two separate lounges could be created and this would entail exploring a few moments of action in the one lounge whilst a major scene occurs simultaneously in the other lounge. The use of one space to represent both lounges has greater political and territorial symbolic significance. The creation of both lounges provides a more obvious aesthetic representation and can also provide a degree of flexibility to the director to make a direct comparison between the characters in the two houses.

Stage Layout

This is merely a basic sketch of the layout. No flatage is depicted.

SCENE 1

Jason’s lounge. Lights come up on Jason standing next to the recliner. Jason covers the recliner. He is interrupted by a cell phone ring after one minute. Cell phone rings. Jason answers the telephone.

JASON

Hello. Yes. (Pause) She can’t come? But the chair is waiting for her. Who is this? She said she would come at eleven. (Pause) (Sarcastically) Oh, that’s great. (Pause) No, I won’t be here tomorrow. Tell her to phone me on Monday. (He hangs up.) Fucking bitch. (Jason walks across stage uneasily, then picks up the phone and dials Joe.)

Joe. It’s Jason here. Well thanks. Listen, it’s a beautiful day. Why don’t we go for a stroll on the beach after lunch? Sanjay is coming for lunch. (Pause) What do you mean, again? He makes delicious food. That’s why I need a stroll after that. (Pause) Oh. Ja. So you’re going there. Well, another time then. We must talk man. You know, we live in the same complex, but we hardly seem to chat these days. (Pause) No, sure. I realise you’re busy. Alright then. Take care.

Jason ends the call and looks concerned. He begins pacing again, looking impatiently at his watch. He walks to the window, looks out and notices a gardener called Nimrod.

JASON

Hey umfaan. Hey Nimrod! You saw Justus today? Mildred told me someone hit him yesterday evening at the park kiosk. Did you see him this morning?

NIMROD

Ja.

JASON

Is he okay?

NIMROD

No. His hand is hurt. I think it’s broken, maybe.

JASON

Did he go to the doctor?

NIMROD

Ai. I think he’s resting. Maybe he’ll go later.

JASON

Tell him he must go to the doctor. Tell him, er… tell him, if he hasn’t got money, he must come see me on Monday. I’ll take him to the doctor.

NIMROD

Alright baas.

JASON

Did he tell you who hit him?

NIMROD

No. He said he was Indian. But I don’t know if he knows him. Maybe… maybe he’s scared.

JASON

He must tell me who. I don’t care if he’s Indian. Whatever. I’ll sort him out. Nobody assaults my boy.

NIMROD

Ja baas.

Jason is about to close the window but pauses and notices something.

JASON

What’s this Khumalo? More furniture? Hey, that looks exactly like my recliner. You fucking copycat. Hey Nimrod. Did you see how boss Khumalo is trying to copy boss Jason’s lounge.

NIMROD

Ja baas. Because your house is too beautiful. That’s why he’s copying you.

JASON

Thanks Nimrod. Hey. Be careful you don’t cut your boss Anderson’s petunias. You nearly cut it now. Ja. And Nimrod, please can you trim those overhanging branches. You know, with my buggered leg I can’t reach there. Thank you Nimrod. (Goes to the recliner and removes the covers. He sits on it and speaks to the audience.) Enjoy your new seat of power, Mr Khumalo. I’ll have my final say before I hand over chairmanship of the body corporate. Oaklands will be the way it was again. The way it should always be.

Blackout.

SCENE 2

The park opposite Oaklands. Lights come up on Sanjay sitting on the park bench, looking around uneasily. He is thinking, uncomfortably, about something. He stares ahead, pensively, for a few seconds. Then he takes out his cell phone and dials his mother. His facial expression indicates disappointment as he has received her answering machine.

SANJAY

Hello ma. Sorry I missed you. I guess you left early for your meeting. I woke up early today, and I finished prepare lunch. I made your favourite. Anyway, I wanted to ask you to find out about the er, takeaway thing, before you came over. I need to move on that. Er, Jenkins phoned me this morning. He said he overheard Prof. say that they’re bringing in a professor from Ghana, to lecture criminal law