Review: The Dark, Tobacco Factory Theatres

Uganda, 1979. The oppressive regime of Idi Amin wreaks terror across the country. The true story of a brave mother smuggling her four-year-old son out of Kampala is told on stage by two actors playing a multitude of voices.

The Dark is highly imaginative. At the beginning we are instructed to close our eyes and listen to the words of writer Nick Makoha, transporting us to late 1970s Uganda.

Director Roy Alexander Weise then hurls us into a series of short scenes, a mixture of political updates and insights into civilian culture. The confusion induced by temporal leaps and multiple roleplaying mirrors the political unrest.

Despite the confusion, the audience remains gripped. The energy on stage is electric; both the acting and the staging effectively evoke the danger that forces young Nicholas and his mother to flee the country. An overhead projector displays the different dates, times and locations of the action, fixing the chronology of the journey amidst the chaos.

The main body of the play traces the journey of the matatu (minibus) from Kampala to the Kenyan border. Tension increases as the risk Nicholas’s mother is taking in ‘stealing’ her son away from his father sinks in.

Poet and playwright Nick Makoha draws on his own childhood experiences in 1970s Uganda

The action flicks between scenes on the bus and scenes occurring on the road, the clever staging providing strong visual aid. The roof of the bus, piled high with luggage and suspended over the stage, is manipulated by the actors to show a different angle. The seating is constantly rearranged.

Throughout their journey on the bus the voices have more clarity; everyone has their own escape story. The actors switch seats, embodying the different passengers who fill in the storyline by speculating about their other companions. Their use of accents, tone and small props is highly effective, complementing the cleverly written script to open up the audience’s imagination.

The male-female role reversals expose and break down cultural gender stereotypes. Akiya Henry flawlessly becomes a spitting, grouchy guard at a checkpoint: Michael Balogun transforms into a terrified guard, shakily holding his gun pointing into the darkness.

Out of the chaos, women begin to rise up. Joyce, whom the duo meet on the road in Jinja, stands up to her husband and tries to persuade Nick’s mother to join the rebels and become a ‘warrior’. The inability of the men to organise themselves is repeatedly highlighted.

The ending is dramatic. Nick’s memory slips away as he and his mother escape: we begin to wonder how much his four-year-old self can actually remember.

Suddenly, they are in Heathrow airport. Square ceiling lights flicker on from the roof of the bus. There is more interrogation. We are left with a strong reminder of the realities faced by refugees and migrants.

Makoha has revealed his own personal story in this play. Written in honour of the risks that his mother took to save his life, The Dark succeeds in putting ‘a face to the polarising words of refugee and immigrant’.

The Dark was at Tobacco Factory Theatres on November 9 and 10 

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