Ruined

by Lynn Nottage

  KISEMBE: It is Commander Osembenga. He is giving us some trouble.

  CHRISTIAN: He’s a crazy bastard!

  KISEMBE: His men set fire to several of our villages, now everyone has fled deeper into the bush.

  MAMA: I saw smoke over the trees.

  REBEL SOLDIER #3: The mission. They burn everything to save bullets.

  (Sophie gasps and covers her mouth.)

  KISEMBE: They took machetes to anything that moves. This is their justice.

  (Josephine spots Mr. Harari. She is torn about where to place her affection.)

  Believe me, when we find Osembenga and his collaborators, he will be shown the same mercy he showed our people. It’s what they deserve. (To Christian) Am I right? You? Am I right?

  CHRISTIAN (Reluctantly): You are right. But—

  KISEMBE: I’m sorry. It’s how it has to be. They have done this to us. I see you agree, Mama.

  MAMA: Of course.

  (Everyone in the bar grows uneasy, afraid of Kisembe’s intense erratic energy. They’re barely listening to his rhetoric, instead focused on trying not to set him off.)

  KISEMBE: They say we are the renegades. We don’t respect the rule of law … but how else do we protect ourselves against their aggression? Huh? How do we feed our families? Ay? They bring soldiers from Uganda, drive us from our land and make us refugees … and then turn us into criminals when we protest or try to protect ourselves. How can we let the government carve up our most valuable land to serve to companies in China. It’s our land. Ask the Mbuti, they can describe every inch of the forest as if were their own flesh. Am I telling the truth?

  MAMA: Here’s to the truth!

  (Kisembe, pleased with his own words, places a cigarette in his mouth. A young Rebel Soldier quickly lights it for him. Kisembe challenges Christian with his eyes. Christian averts his gaze. He nervously raises his glass.)

  CHRISTIAN: The truth!

  (A moment. Mr. Harari uses the awkward silence to interject.)

  MR. HARARI: Has, um, Osembenga shut down production at Yaka-yaka mine?

  KISEMBE: And you are?

  MR. HARARI: I’m sorry, Colonel, may I offer you my card?

  (Mr. Harari passes Kisembe his card. Kisembe examines it.)

  KISEMBE: Ha-ra-i?

  MR. HARARI: Aziz Harari. Yes. Please. I handle mostly minerals, some precious stones, but I have contacts for everything. My mobile is always on. Let me buy you a drink.

  (Mr. Harari signals Sophie to bring a bottle of whiskey over to Kisembe. She pours two glasses.)

  KISEMBE: Thank you.

  (Kisembe takes the bottle of whiskey and slips the card into his pocket, by way of dismissing Mr. Harari, who backs away. Mama wraps her arms around Kisembe’s shoulders.)

  MAMA: Come, gentlemen. You will be treated like warriors here.

  KISEMBE: I wish we could stay all night, but duty calls.

  (Kisembe signals to his men. They follow him toward the door.)

  MAMA: No! So soon? Josephine!

  (Mama signals to Josephine, who refuses to budge. Instead she sits on Mr. Harari’s lap. Mr. Harari tenses.)

  MR. HARARI (Whispers): Go!

  JOSEPHINE: No.

  (Kisembe and his men collect their guns and leave. A moment. A huge sigh of relief. Exhale. Christian slaps his thigh and stands. He does a spot-on impersonation of the haughty swagger of the rebel leader.)

  CHRISTIAN: “Girl. Quick. Quick. Bring me a beer, so I can wash it down with Osembenga’s blood.”

  (Sophie and Josephine laugh. Mr. Harari is too nervous to enjoy the show.)

  SOPHIE: Yes, Colonel.

  CHRISTIAN (Continuing to imitate Kisembe): “Woman, are you addressing me as ‘Colonel’?”

  SOPHIE: Yes, Colonel.

  CHRISTIAN: “Don’t you know who I am? I am from here on in to be known as the Great Commander of All Things Wise and Wonderful, with the Heart of a Hundred Lions in Battle.”

  SOPHIE: I’m so sorry, Great Commander of All Things Wise and …

  CHRISTIAN: “Wonderful with the Heart of a Hundred Lions in Battle. Don’t you forget that!”

  (Christian does a playful mocking warrior dance. Josephine taps out a rhythm on the counter. A Drummer joins in. Mama laughs.)

  MAMA: You are a fool!

  (Mama retreats to the back with empty bottles. Unseen, the formidable Commander Osembenga and a sullen Government Soldier, Laurent, enter. They wear black berets and muddy uniforms. A moment. Christian stops his dance abruptly.)

  OSEMBENGA: Don’t stop you. Go on.

  CHRISTIAN: Commander Osembenga.

  OSEMBENGA: Continue.

  (Osembenga smiles and claps his hands. Christian continues his dance, now drained of its verve and humor. Osembenga laughs. Then he stops clapping, releasing Christian from the dance. Christian, humiliated, retreats to the bar. Osembenga acknowledges Mr. Harari with a polite nod.)

  Where is Mama?

  SOPHIE: She’s in the back. (Yells) Mama! Mama!

  OSEMBENGA (Suspiciously): I saw a truck leaving? Whose was it?

  CHRISTIAN (Lying): Uh … aid worker.

  OSEMBENGA: Oh? Good-looking vehicle. Expensive. Eight cylinders.

  CHRISTIAN: Yes.

  OSEMBENGA: Sturdy. It looked like it could take the road during rainy season.

  CHRISTIAN: Probably.

  (Osembenga approves.)

  SOPHIE: Mama!

  MAMA (Entering from off, annoyed): Why are you calling me?! You know I’m busy.

  (Mama stops short when she sees Osembenga. She conjures a warm smile.)

  (Surprised) Commander Osembenga. Karibu. (Nervously) We … how are you?

  (Mama glances at the door.)

  OSEMBENGA: Run ragged, if the truth be told. Two Primus, cold, and a pack of cigarettes.

  (Mama directs Sophie to get the beer. Osembenga strokes Mama’s backside. She playfully swats away his hand.)

  You look good, today.

  MAMA: You should have seen me yesterday.

  OSEMBENGA: I wish I had, but I was otherwise engaged.

  MAMA: Yeah? We heard you had some trouble. Kisembe.

  OSEMBENGA: Is that what is being said? Not trouble! Slight irritation. But you’d be pleased to know, we’re close to shutting down Kisembe and his militia. We finally have him on the run. He won’t be troubling the people here very much longer.

  MAMA: Is that so?

  OSEMBENGA: My guess, he’s heading east. He’ll need to come through here. He can’t hide from me. It’s the only passable road.

  MAMA: I saw smoke over the trees.

  OSEMBENGA: That bastard and his cronies attacked the hospital.

  MR. HARARI: The hospital? Why?

  OSEMBENGA: Because they are imbeciles. I don’t know. Looking for medicine. Speed. Morphine. Who the hell knows? They rounded-up and killed mostly Hema patients. (To Sophie) Tsst. Tsst. You, bring me some groundnuts. (To Mama) It was chaos. When we arrived we found the hospital staff tied by their hands and cut up like meat.

  LAURENT: One man’s heart was missing.

  (Sophie covers her mouth with disgust.)

  MAMA (Disgusted): What?

  OSEMBENGA: And he accuses us of being the barbarians? Don’t worry, I’ve given my soldiers the liberty to control the situation. I am afraid this is what must be done. They force our hand.

  (Osembenga takes sadistic delight in this notion. Sophie cringes as she places beer and peanuts on the table for the Soldiers. Osembenga grabs Sophie’s wrist, and pulls her toward him.)

  (Laughing) Come here, you pretty pretty thing. What? You don’t like what I’m wearing?

  (Sophie tries to gently pry herself loose. Christian, sensing tension, moves toward them. Laurent rises.)

  You don’t like men in uniforms? You don’t like men, maybe. Is that it?

  (A moment. Sophie now struggles to free herself.)

  MAMA (Sensing the tension): Sophie, come here. Let—

  OSEMBENGA (Smiling): Hey. We are talk
ing. We are talking, yeah?

  (Osembenga pulls Sophie onto his lap. He shoves his hand up her skirt. She gasps and struggles harder.)

  Am I ugly? Is that what you’re trying to tell me.

  SOPHIE (Hisses): Let go of me!

  (Sophie violently pushes away from Osembenga. Christian rushes in to protect her, as Osembenga lunges for her. Mama blocks Osembenga’s path. Laurent rises to aid Osembenga.)

  MAMA: Sophie, shush! Enough. Commander, ignore her, there are other girls for you. Come. Come.

  OSEMBENGA: Bring this girl around back, my men will teach her a lesson. She needs proper schooling.

  (Laurent shoves Christian out of the way, and grabs Sophie. This is the first time we’ve seen Mama scared. Sophie spits on Osembenga’s feet.)

  MAMA: Sophie.

  (Mama, horrified, bends down and wipes the spit from Osembenga’s shoes. Osembenga glares at Sophie.)

  SOPHIE (Shouting as if possessed): I am dead.

  MAMA: No!

  SOPHIE (Possessed): I am dead! Fuck a corpse! What would that make you?

  (Osembenga is thrown.)

  OSEMBENGA: I’m trying to bring order here, and this girl spits on my feet. Do you see what I have to deal with? Do you? This is the problem.

  (Christian quickly pulls Sophie away.)

  MAMA: Gentlemen, Commander, this is not our way … we want you to be comfortable and happy here, let me show you the pleasures of Mama Nadi’s.

  (A moment. A standoff.)

  OSEMBENGA: Then, Mama, you show me.

  (Osembenga checks his anger. He smiles. Mama understands. She follows Osembenga into the back. Sophie desperately scrubs her hands in the basin. Mr. Harari pours himself a healthy drink.)

  MR. HARARI: Okay. Let’s not overreact. Everything’s going to be fine.

  CHRISTIAN (Whispers): Sophie, are you crazy? What are you doing?

  (Josephine compassionately stops Sophie, who is scrubbing her hands raw.)

  JOSEPHINE: Stop it. Stop it. (Hugs Sophie tightly) Shh. Shh.

  (Mama furiously reenters. She slaps Sophie across the face.)

  MAMA: Next time I will put you out for the vultures. I don’t care if that was the man who slit your mother’s throat. Do you understand me? You could have gotten all of us killed. What do you have to say to me?

  SOPHIE: Sorry, Mama.

  MAMA: You’re lucky the commander is generous. I had to plead with him to give you another chance. Now you go in there, and you make sure that his cock is clean. Am I making myself clear?

  SOPHIE: Please—

  MAMA: Now get outta my sight.

  (Mama grabs Sophie and thrusts her into the back. Mr. Harari, Christian and Josephine stare at Mama. A moment. Mama goes behind the bar and pours herself a drink.)

  What?

  CHRISTIAN: Don’t make her do that! This girl is—

  MAMA: What if Osembenga had been more than offended. What then? Who would protect my business if he turned on me? It is but for the grace of God, that he didn’t beat her to the ground. And now I have to give away business to keep him and his filthy soldiers happy.

  CHRISTIAN: But if—

  MAMA: Not a word from you. You have a problem, then leave.

  CHRISTIAN: “Business.” When you say it, it sounds vulgar, polluted.

  MAMA: Are you going to lecture me, professor? Turn your dirty finger away from me.

  (Christian is stung by her words.)

  CHRISTIAN: Mama?

  MAMA: What, chérie? (Laughs)

  CHRISTIAN (Wounded): Forget it! Bring me another beer. There’s my money. (Slams the money down on the counter) You understand that, don’t you? You like that? There’s your fucking money.

  (Mama slowly picks up the money and puts it in her apron. She ceremoniously cracks open a beer and places it in front of Christian.)

  MAMA: Drink up, you fucking drunk.

  CHRISTIAN: What’s wrong with you?

  (Christian snatches up his beer. He drinks it down quickly and deliberately.)

  MAMA: You men kill me. You come in here, drink your beer, take your pleasure, and then wanna judge the way I run my “business.” The front door swings both ways. I don’t force anyone’s hand. My girls, Emilene, Mazima, Josephine, ask them, they’d rather be here, than back out there in their villages where they are taken without regard. They’re safer with me than in their own homes, because this country is picked clean, while men, poets like you, drink beer, eat nuts and look for some place to disappear. And I am without mercy, is that what you’re saying? Because I give them something other than a beggar’s cup. (With ferocity) I didn’t come here as Mama Nadi, I found her the same way miners find their wealth in the muck. I stumbled off of that road without two twigs to start a fire. I turned a basket of sweets and soggy biscuits into a business. I don’t give a damn what any of you think. This is my place, Mama Nadi’s.

  (Christian crosses to leave.)

  Of course.

  (Mama’s words stop him.)

  CHRISTIAN:The black rope of water towing

  A rusted ferry fighting the current of time,

  An insatiable flow,

  Drifting

  Without enough kerosene to get through the dark nights,

  The destination always a port away.

  MAMA (Spits): It’s wind. If you can’t place it on a scale, it’s nothing.

  (Christian heads for the door.)

  You’ll be back when you need another beer.

  CHRISTIAN: I don’t think so.

  (Christian absorbs the blow, then storms outside in a huff. Josephine and Mr. Harari exit to the back. Mama is left alone to contemplate her actions.)

  Scene 5

  Outside the bar. Osembenga and Laurent stumble out of Mama Nadi’s place, laughing.

  OSEMBENGA: I always like the taste of something new.

  FORTUNE (Approaching them): Commander! Commander!

  OSEMBENGA: Yes?

  FORTUNE: I’m sorry to disturb you, but I …

  OSEMBENGA: Yes?

  FORTUNE: I saw Jerome Kisembe.

  OSEMBENGA: Who are you?

  FORTUNE: I am Fortune Mukengeshayi, I’m with your brigade.

  OSEMBENGA: Jerome Kisembe?

  FORTUNE: Yes … He was inside Mama Nadi’s.

  OSEMBENGA: Inside here?

  FORTUNE: Yes, I saw him. She was hiding him. I heard him say the rebels are heading south along this road. He will join them tomorrow.

  OSEMBENGA: Mama Nadi’s?! Here?!

  FORTUNE: He drove south in a white truck! Please, she is holding my wife. I just want to get her back.

  OSEMBENGA (To Laurent): Quick, quick. We’ll go after him. Call ahead, prepare the brigade to move out.

  (They quickly exit.)

  Scene 6

  Dawn. Morning light pours into the bar. Mr. Harari paces. His traveling bag is perched near the door. Mama wipes down the bar.

  MAMA: Would you like a drink while you wait?

  (Artillery fire, closer than expected.)

  MR. HARARI: Yes. Thank you. A little palm wine.

  (Mama, settles her nerves, and pours them both a palm wine.)

  MAMA: It looks like it’s going to rain, you might wanna wait until—

  MR. HARARI: I can’t. Thank goodness, I found a lift with one of the aid workers. My driver, fucking idiot, took off last night. (Jokes) Apparently he doesn’t care for the sound of gunfire.

  MAMA: I told you, you didn’t pay him enough.

  MR. HARARI: This fucking war, ay mother, no one owns it! It’s everybody’s and nobody’s.

  MAMA: Tst!

  MR. HARARI: It keeps fracturing and redefining itself. Militias form overnight, and suddenly a drunken foot solider with a tribal vendetta is a rebel leader, and in possession of half of the enriched land, but you can’t reason with him, because he’s only thinking as far as his next drink.

  MAMA: Yes, and what is new?

  MR. HARARI: The man I shake hands with in the morning is my enemy by su
ndown. And why? His whims. Because?! His witch doctor says I’m the enemy. I don’t know whose hand to grease other than the one directly in front of me. At least I understood Mobutu’s brand of chaos. Now, I’m a relative beginner, I must relearn the terms every few months, and make new friends, but who? It’s difficult to say, so I must befriend everybody and nobody. And it’s utterly exhausting.

  MAMA: Let all the mother-hating soldiers fight it out. Cuz, in the end, do you think that will change anything here?

  MR. HARARI: God only knows. The main road is crowded with folks heading east. There is no shame in leaving, Mama. Part of being in business is knowing when to cut your losses and get out.

  MAMA: I have the only pool table in fifty kilometers. Where will people drink if anything happens to me?

  MR. HARARI: The commander knows Kisembe was here. Eventually you must fly your colors. Take a side.

  MAMA: He pays me in gold, he pays me in coltan. What is worth more? You tell me. What is their argument? I don’t know. Who will win? Who cares? There’s an old proverb, “Two hungry birds fight over a kernel, just then a third one swoops down and carries it off. Whoops!”

  MR. HARARI: You are the most devilish of optimists. You—I don’t worry so much about you. But what about a lovely girl like Sophie?

  (His words hit her. Mr. Harari knocks back his drink, then heads for the door, looking out for his ride.)

  Until next time!

  (Distant gunfire. Mr. Harari anxiously stands in the doorway. Mama goes to the bar, she appears conflicted. An internal battle.)

  MAMA: Ah … One thing, Mr. Harari. Before you leave, can I ask you a favor?

  MR. HARARI: Of course.

  (Mama opens the lockbox, and carefully lays out the diamond.)

  MAMA: This.

  (Mr. Harari’s eyes light up.)

  MR. HARARI: Your insurance policy.

  MAMA (With irony): Yes. My restaurant, my garden to dig in, and a chief’s fortune of cows. (Laughs)

  MR. HARARI: You are ready to sell?

  MAMA: Yes. Take this. (Hands him Sophie’s piece of paper) It has the name of a man in Bunia, a doctor. (With urgency) He won’t trouble you with questions. Use my name.

  MR. HARARI: Slow, slow, what do you want me—

  MAMA: Just listen. I want you to take her to—

  MR. HARARI (Confused): Josephine? (Genuinely surprised) Be realistic, how would a girl like Josephine survive in the city.