by Babu Ayindo |
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Are all humans artistes of the theater? In everyday life, we go through the emotions and paces that a stage actor goes through. And, if we shared and reflected on the stories we create daily in our lives, we would transform ourselves and the world. It is believed that drama originated from rituals. Drama germinated form our ancestors attempt to come to terms with the enigmas of nature. The main purpose of ritualistic drama was to correct the imbalances that existed between humans and fellow humans, humans and nature and humans and the supernatural. Put differently, drama was the key in the making of a culture, the humanizing of the world.
However, modern drama has boundary marks clearly drawn between performers and spectators. Unlike the theater of our ancestors, present practice is no longer am inclusive dialogue of experience but a monologue dominated by an elitist semi-professionalized select group of actors. The transformative potential of this art has been whittled. It seems necessary, therefore, for the modern African to take a step back; for that may actually be a step forward in the search for reconciliation.
A few events in our experience Amani People's Theater suggests the need to rethink our practice of theater as an art that bears potential for reconciliation and social transformation. At a workshop in Nyakach (Western Kenya) in mid 1996, I met a young man who gave theater an apt definition: "Church" he said, " is where two or more are gathered in the name of Jesus, while Theater is where two or more are gathered to enjoy a story." Now, this definition may assume profundity when one considers that Jesus was a good storyteller!
Such a definition of theater emphasizes the power of telling as well as listening to stories. Part of the reason why African people are still grappling with issues of identity is that they have not created the social space for people to tell their stories thereby invite communal reflection on their experiences. Take the example of our grandparents who no longer have the space to retell their stories of say, fighting in Burma or British Somali land during the world wars. The primary task for the People's Theater artiste is not to take theater to the people but rather to do theater with the people. The "stage" in people's theater is that place where both artistes and "spectators" share stories, reflect on them and above all, build relationships for peaceful social transformation.
In mid November 1999, we had occasion to do a workshop with a group of teachers and youth leaders in Wajir, northern Kenya. "The Power of Man" is a story recreated from African oral tradition. The story examines the illusions of power that (wo)man has. To explore issues of conflict in northern Kenya we performed the story up to a critical point in the drama then left the skit open-ended. The participants were divided into three groups and required to come up with a possible "ending" to the story. When debriefing the exercise, one teacher had a very interesting summary of the process. "This story" he said, "is very good because it will never end." I was reminded of what Augusto Boal says in "Games for Actors and Non-Actors" that for the oppressed, drama is the play-which-is-never-finished. African culture is a culture of struggle; our dramas can never be the well-finished play. A dramatic process that accurately reflects this reality would give chance for the people to grapple with the numerous conflicts they face. It will not dump a well-finished ideology. At the heart of our drama would be an inclusive process that endeavors to envision a new future, collaboratively.
Many well-intentioned Theater-for-Development (TFD) projects tend to take the reflective capacity of the people for granted. Even when they claim to be participatory, all that the experience amounts to is subtle imposition of a pre-set agenda. For example, early in our practice in Amani People's Theater, we assumed we were thoroughly participatory with our open-ended skits. However, our reflections showed that even with an open-ended skit one imposes both the content and form. We end up engaging, not facilitating dialogue but, as one artiste, put it in "facipulating" [facilitation and manipulation] the process drama. Even in the field of conflict resolution and transformation, there are programs that encourage people to be consumers of an alien culture of peace instead of providing space for people to makers of a culture of peace. Kenya, for example has a rich mix of nations with different theater traditions. The People's Theater must validate and respect the all traditions and cultures as well as peoples' ways of knowing.
It would seem that things we never experienced may haunt us as much as those we experience. Drama provides us the opportunity to empathize with people or events we shall never experience. Last year a friend, Jenniffer Atieno Fischer, conducted a Drama Therapy workshop with a young lady at Eastern Mennonite University, USA. Maisa (not her real name) wanted to come to terms with the death of her father. She had traveled to a different state to take up a job leaving her sick father miles away. Although her father had encouraged her to go, she felt guilty that she had not been available to her father at the very last hour. Above all, she had had a phone conversation with her father a few days before he died and he had told her that once she was settled in her new job she should go back home for "there was something very important he wanted to tell her." Unfortunately, her father died before they had chance to speak again. Maisa had one concern when she approached Jenniffer and I: Could drama help her get a sense as to what was this her father wanted to tell her?
Ms. Fischer led a most emotional process where a few members of the "audience" replayed her interaction with her father and the conversation that would have taken place. When debriefing, it was evident that all who had participated - included a professor of mine, who played the role of the father, and his three children - had undergone a therapeutic process. There was something very surreal about the whole process. Was this a ritualistic drama? Ms. Fischer structured the process so that we al had moment to weep and proceed at our own pace. Maisa confessed the process had helped her come to terms with this missing story.
Augusto Boal has argued that theater is a language. When I first read this in his book "Theater of the Oppressed" it made some sense. However, I had to wait until 1997 when doing a workshop with the deaf children of Libolina home in Webuye, western Kenya, to back this understanding with concrete experience. Here we were, a group of over ten artists with no ability in sign language working with deaf children. I recall our frantic efforts to over-gesture and quickly learn the sign language. When this did not seem to work very well, some of us chose to work with "feelings" and expressions. Together with the children we created a new language, a non- verbal language. A language that communicates at "feelings" level.
It has been pointed out how easily we use words to impede the search for truth. The communication between the APT artistes and the children of Libolina was a kind of dialogue of the subconscious. It was the kind of dialogue whose truth is genuine and palpable. The theater experience allows us the opportunity to communicate at the deepest level humanly possible.
One might wonder then, is there a line between People's Theater and reality? The experience with a girls' school in the outskirts of Nairobi in 1997 would give clarity to this dilemma. The school had gone on strike and as is characteristic in many Kenyan schools, the students were suspended. However, two weeks after being re-admitted, and in spite of going through some tough disciplinary measures, it was evident that the young girls were plotting yet another strike! The school administration invited us to teach the girls ways of living with the all authority. Our strategy was to work with the students and staff separately then assess whether it would be possible to bring the two groups together.
The role plays we did revealed that tension had considerably built in the school. Interestingly, the students were more than ready to caricature their teachers and show the absurdity of being suspended over "small" issues. The group work took most of the morning. In the afternoon, our plan included a process of challenging the perspectives of the students in a dramatic process that would encourage boarder reflections in response to conflict. Even the APT facilitators, some of whom were teachers or teacher trainees, got emotional in the process of discussion and playbuilding. Step by step, the jeering from the students reduced giving way to a more focussed discussion and character creation.
We began a process of role playing alternatives to violence as a response from students in a school situation. The school cook who had watched with amusement the whole process was invited to join the drama and she did. This had a sobering effect on the issues we were discussing. However, before we even planned the headmistress decided to "gate-crash" into our drama-for-reconciliation process at a point when the facilitator was asking the girls to volunteer playing the headmistress. Now, in APT we rarely encourage people to play themselves because of the psychological effect it is likely to have. Again, we knew the involvement of the headmistress may inject negative energies to the whole process.
The silence was loud as we waited for a volunteer to play the headmistress. It seemed no student was ready to do that, not in the presence of the headmistress. Then like a bombshell, the headmistress volunteered to play the role of the headmistress. There was hesitation but the drama continued. What followed looked surreal. In the safe environment of the people's theater process, the students and prefects in the drama revealed the key issues they faced - which included lack of communication, frustration by prefects, and an administration not ready to listen to them. As the drama came build to a climax, the students and headmistress hugged and promised to make the school a community for all of them. As the hugged at the end of the process we wondered when the boundary from drama to reality as crossed. Or even whether there was any boundary at all to cross.
And one may ask what is peacebuilding all about? Is it not about challenging our perceptions and empathizing? Perhaps we should stop talking of People's Theater a s tool for peacebuilding but rather talk of People's Theater as peacebuilding. People's Theater is that safe place where people can reflect on their encounters and spontaneously evolve a new culture, a culture of peace.
The Online publishing of WAJIBU is by Koinonia Media Centre.