1 Song of a Citizen by Czeslaw Milosz A stone from the depths that has witnessed the seas drying up and a million white fish leaping in agony, I, poor man, see a multitude of white-bellied nations without freedom. I see the crab feeding on their flesh. I have seen the fall of States and the perdition of tribes, the flight of kings and emperors, the power of tyrants. I can say now, in this hour, that I—am, while everything expires, that it is better to be a live dog than a dead lion, as the Scripture says. A poor man, sitting on a cold chair, pressing my eyelids, I sigh and think of a starry sky, of non-Euclidean space, of amoebas and their pseudopodia, of tall mounds of termites. When walking, I am asleep, when sleeping, I dream reality, pursued and covered with sweat, I run. on city squares lifted up by the glaring dawn, beneath marble remnants of blasted-down gates, I deal in vodka and gold. And yet so often I was near, I reached into the heart of metal, the soul of earth, of fire, of water. And the unknown unveiled its face as a night reveals itself, serene, mirrored by tide. Lustrous copper-leaved gardens greeted me that disappear as soon as you touch them.
2 And so near, just outside the window—the greenhouse of the worlds where a tiny beetle and a spider are equal to planets, where a wandering atom flares up like Saturn, and, close by, harvesters drink from a cold jug in scorching summer. This I wanted and nothing more. In my later years like old Goethe to stand before the face of the earth, and recognize it and reconcile it with my work built up, a forest citadel on a river of shifting lights and brief shadows. This I wanted and nothing more. So who is guilty? Who deprived me of my youth and my ripe years, who seasoned my best years with horror? Who, who ever is to blame, who, O God? And I can think only about the starry sky, about the tall mounds of termites.
PUCK[Droll] Wenn wir Schatten euch beleidigt, O†so glaubt - und wohl verteidigt Sind wir dann -: Ihr alle schier Habet nur geschlummert hier Und geschaut in Nachtgesichten Eures eignen Hirnes Dichten. If we shadows have offended, Think but this, and all is mended, That you have but slumber’d here While these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, No more yielding but a dream.
3 Page 34 GEORGE: Then comes a loud know at the door. Silence. Before John opens it two people walk in; one is an armed soldier, the other a student in UPC party colours. FIRST SOLDIER: Who here is George Bwanika? GEORGE: (to audience) Everybody has instantly sobered up. You can almost hear the silence. A round of silence. (His inner voice takes over.) How long do you think they will manage without revealing your identity? Look as normal as they are, George ... whatever that means ... (To audience.) The man in the corner is no longer head-bowed. He looks very calm and unthreatened. (Inner voice: cold and calculated instinct.) Grab him, he is within easy reach. You have the speed and power to hurl him in front of the soldier. Remember there is a seldom used door to your immediate left. Don’t be afraid. Grab him by surprise, he will give you cover, then jump as soon as you open the door ... What if it’s locked though?! (To audience; still glued to his seat.) A second soldier walks in and I abandon the option. (Reverts to his thoughts.) Sooner than later someone is going to point me out.
Double double this this, Double double that that, Double this, double that, Double double this that. Hey diddle diddle The cat and the Fiddle The cow jumped over the moon The little dog laughed To see such fun The dish ran away with the spoon
4 Musician George Bwanika Father Announcer Teacher Student Captain Aswa Idi Amin Customers 1,2,3 Nalongo Custodian Crowd John Wife Soldiers 1,2,3 Uncle George Nurse Mary Doctor Walugembe Brother Steven Grandmother Auntie Gladys Mother Immigration Officer David Rubadiri
Go Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen Let Nothing You Dismay For Jesus Christ our Saviour Was Born upon this Day To Save us All from Satan's Power When we were gone Astray O Tidings of comfort and Joy Comfort and Joy O Tidings of comfort and Joy
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a rhythm in my scuffling feet a percussing from the moving street the pulse becoming a melody the sound becoming an energy the choosing becoming a cruising the choice becoming a voice a collison a decision an emotion a musing a sound a booming a fusion a fission o yes you can fool the law and you can fool the street but you just can’t fool the dancefloor and you just can’t fool the beat the sights I was seeing I was seeing I was seeing the sights I was seeing I was seeing I had found the sounds I was hearing I was hearing I was hearing the sounds I was hearing I was hearing I had heard the words I was speaking I was speaking I was speaking the words I was speaking I was speaking I had sought
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the thoughts I was seeking I was seeking I was seeking the thoughts I was seeking I was seeking I had found a rolling rhythm climbing higher, the stretch becoming a reach, the flame becoming a fire, the rolling risen pulse of cadence, now falling, now falling further still, and soon, now, scaling higher a rhythm from your head to your feet to your core running fast running ragged running slick running raw a rhythm from your lips to your hips to your core running wild running on running true running more Page 44
Part 1 GEORGE: It was getting dark. The front door opened for the mean little boss who’d called the shots all the way from Makerere. He stuck his pistol in my lower ribs. FIRST SOLDIER: Escort me. GEORGE: Excuse me, could you please not shoot me through the back? I would prefer to look at you while you shoot. (takes a few short backwards steps) Is this okay?
7 Part 2 (Internal) Goodbye mum, I owe you an apology for overstaying this night on the campus. Goodbye Dad ... Goodbye my lovely sisters, Abby, little Tony, every single one of you. Remember he loved you all and loved his country. (To soldiers) Please give me a minute or two to say my last words. Now that you have come to power through the ballot box and not the barrel of a gun, even if I had committed a treasonable offence you should have at least have taken me to prison or a court of law. I know it’s too late for me to live but whoever will continue to live in your country will find it hard to forgive, let alone forget. I am ready.
One bright day in the middle of the night, Two dead boys got up to fight. Back to back they faced each other, drew their swords and shot each other. A deaf policeman heard the noise and ran to save the two dead boys. And if you don't believe it's true, go ask the blind man, he saw it too. "I've had a perfectly wonderful evening, but this wasn't it." The car stopped on a dime, which unfortunately was in a pedestrian's pocket. What do you call a woman with one leg shorter than the other? Eileen There are two beavers who both walk into their house. One leaves the door open and the other one says: "Shut the dam door."
8 At the herb plantation, the native workers rarely used any footwear. Several herbs had prickly leaves and stems and this resulted in frequent cuts and scratches on their bare feet. Preaching the benefits of shoes had little effect and was soon forgotten. What was really needed was a witty slogan that could hardly be forgotten. The injuries were drastically reduced when the catchy signs went up... "Thyme wounds all heels".
Run for the mountains head for the hills, We’ll fire you up but leave you in chills We swing like a boxer we’re crude but with class You better play nice or we’ll kick your ass But give us second before we play rough I’ll just pluck my eyebrows And then wax my muff We attack from above and destroy from beneath Right after we’re finished bleaching our teeth You’ll know who’s in charge We’ll make you behave But first let us give the legs a quick shave And then we’ll be ready to put you in place Just give me time to put on my face Run for the mountains head for the hills, We’ll fire you up but leave you in chills We’ll kill you so softly with radical style But we gotta get ready So it might be a while
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LADY BRACKNELL Good afternoon, dear Algernon, I hope you are behaving very well. ALGERNON I’m feeling very well, Aunt Augusta. LADY BRACKNELL That’s not quite the same thing. In fact the two things rarely go together. [Sees Jack and bows to him with icy coldness.] ALGERNON [To Gwendolen] Dear me, you are smart! GWENDOLEN I am always smart! Aren’t I, Mr Worthing? JACK You’re quite perfect, Miss Fairfax. GWENDOLEN Oh! I hope I am not that. It would leave no room for developments, and I intend to develop in many directions. TEACHER My name is Pius Mulindwa. For those of you who do not know me, I’ll be in charge of English Language and Mathematics. You are welcome to Mugwanya Preparatory School, Kobojja. “Many are called but few are chosen,” So you should all feel proud of yourselves and once again ... welcome. Please be seated. Being the class master of Primary 3B, it’s my responsibility to supervise the elections for the Class Monitor and one Junior Prefect. (Beat.) Silence. As tomorrow’s leaders and responsible citizens, remember it’s your birthright to exercise your vote. Feel free to nominate anyone. Once they are seconded, we shall proceed with a show of hands. John and Fred, please come forward. I’m pleased to announce that the pupils of Standard 3B now have a School Prefect and a Class Monitor. A round of applause for your new leaders. Very well. Please be seated. You now have become the eyes and the ears of the school. Remember to always serve by setting a good example. Only then can you make sure the rule of law is maintained. No one is above the law, not even the Prefects. Repeat after me, not even the .... Yes we don’t care whether you are the son of the President of the United States or even the Queen of England!
10 (Gleefully, he parades his stick) Just don’t put us to the test. Believe me we shall pass it with flying colours. At Mugwanya Preparatory School, we have more punishments than all the rules put together. There are a lot of people who put money in this school. Some from as far away as Canada and even the United States of America. However bright you are, if you prove too unruly we’ll ask you to put on your Sunday uniform and tell your parents that we’d be more than happy to recommend you to the reformatory school at Kampiringisa. I have seen mothers drop on their knees and threaten to shed tears of blood. (He brandishes and strokes his cane.) Now, lateness. Some of you sauntered into class like ... little gazelles! From now on ... late-comers eat bones. No more African time! Punctuality is a must. Punctuality is a what? (Beat. The class responds.) There are some of you who are still “speaking vernacular”! Save that for your grandmothers during the holidays. From now on you must speak English. Eat English, sleep English, and dream English. You must ... (A chorus of children's voices is heard.) Good. Any questions?