The Bite Magazine - Autmn/Winter 2020 - Issue 28

bitetheatre The play is opened to a captivating contemporary solo dance by a woman which then becomes an ensemble of six dancers. Costumed to reflect the name of the performance, they float around the stage like petals in the wind to a slower version of an Afro-beat. Their places are briefly taken over by an ensemble of male dancers who infuse masculinity into these floral movements also clad in male versions of costumes that float and swing to the choreography. Even- tually, the beat gets faster, and we see the two sets of these dancers - females and then males – swap staging places until suddenly the lively African drumming and music abruptly stops as the stage goes pitch black and so silent you can hear a pin drop. The silence is pierced by the high pitch of a woman scream, and I am inclined to sit forward in my seat as curiosity overwhelms my being. So distressing in pitch is the scream that it immediately juxta- poses the tranquillity imposed by watching the floating dancers just a moment ago, albeit fast drum-beats. Who? What? Why? A woman sitting in a chair relates a bit of her story of her wedding-night that has her ‘think of shame’. In my mind, I immediately presume an in- cident or two that could have her feel such sentiments. Oh, how I am so wrong! We amusingly come to know her as the self-named ‘woman-in chair’ (played by Christina Oshuniyi), and her story of when she was a child revealed later in the play, wrenches your heart from your chest cavity as you imagine the happenings on yourself or a loved one. As lights close on her, this is followed by a beautiful soulful song of lamentation by a young woman, Ede, the ‘young lover’ that is behind bars (played by Linda Nwanneka) which, at first glance, is not fully known whether the bars are symbolic or actual. She sings with such a beautiful, clear voice reminiscent of a pop star in a studio that, it too, juxtaposes the visuals of the scene. We are intrigued to find out what her story is and why she is where she is. Her story of ‘no hope’ too, revealed later in the play, will shock you, as she later claims “the only thing true about a dream-man is; it’s all a dream.” We are next introduced to Tofunmi Martins (played by Jennifer Omatseye), a self-made ‘boss-lady’ playing the lawyer to the pre- vious character in jail. She proclaims that her hard work is fuelled by societal prejudicial views of women, including that of her own father, and would “rather be kept waiting by a woman than be put down by a man”. Her no-nonsense attitude has you sit up straight in your chair as she sings her story of having to keep fighting for her place to the top as a woman. She incites power and empowerment to all women, but acknowledges the struggle and perceptions that might entail, though states with conviction, “I am the captain of my life!” Yes, ma’am! We are then introduced to ‘Trophy Wife’ Mrs Thomas Odukoya (played by Dolapo Phillips) singing Endless Love by Lionel Richie and Diana Ross. At first perception given the song, she has you be- lieve she is in the most perfect of relationships, but then declares “I hate marriage” and yet describes herself as her husband’s ‘prize possession’. But how so, we’re left asking? The reason for this flum- moxing declaration is narrated with such metaphorical clarity to her paradoxical situation that you can’t help but feel empathy towards her.