Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

Holy Night
Holy Night
Holy Night
Ebook63 pages44 minutes

Holy Night

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars

()

Read preview

About this ebook

IT IS CHRISTMAS EVE . EIGHT BOMBS HAVE GONE OFF.VETERAN MOURNS THE DEATH OF HIS GOLDFISH WHILE HE WAITS FOR HIS FAMILY TO RETURN HOME. HE TELLS HIS STORIES TO IBRAHIM,WHO HAS BEEN INJURED ANDSITS AT HIS DOOR STEP, WHO ALSO, HAS NEVER SEEN THE SUN.
SOMEWHERE ELSE, FIVE STRANGERS WHO ARE TRAPPED IN A BUTCHERS SHOP SHARE THEIR DEEPEST SECRETS INTO THE COLD DARK NIGHT
LanguageEnglish
Release dateDec 20, 2012
ISBN9781477234815
Holy Night
Author

Zainabu Jallo

ZAINABU HAS BEEN DESCRIBED AS A YOUNG POWERFUL VOICE IN AFRICAN THEATRE. HER PLAYS, CHARACTERISED BY MOVING MONOLOGUES AND DIALOGUES LACED WITH THE MUSIC OF POETRY AND BRILLIANT USE OF METAPHORS ARE ORIGINALLY REFRESHING! SHE IS THE AUTHOR OF AWARD WINNING, ONIONS MAKE US CRY AND SARAYA DANGANA

Related to Holy Night

Related ebooks

Performing Arts For You

View More

Related articles

Reviews for Holy Night

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars
0 ratings

0 ratings0 reviews

What did you think?

Tap to rate

Review must be at least 10 words

    Book preview

    Holy Night - Zainabu Jallo

    © 2013 by Zainabu Jallo. All rights reserved.

    No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

    Published by AuthorHouse 12/17/2012

    ISBN: 978-1-4772-3480-8 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4772-3481-5 (e)

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    For Jat

    1974-2011

    & the many others

    HOLY NIGHT

    I’ve been to the sun

    It’s nothing special

    A place of violence

    Much like our own.

    LEONARD COHEN

    The book of Longing

    Holy Night was partly developed during a one-month residency at Villa Le Pinede, Maussane Les Alpilles, Aix en Provence, France in 2010.

    Holy Night is one of the five finalists in the 2012 Internationalists Global Playwrighting Contest.

    The play was first performed in August 2012 in Lagos Nigeria with the following cast:

    VETERAN   Aderopo Ewenla

    IBRAHIM   Jeremiah Ikongio

    HAUWA   Omolara Oyewumi

    PROFESSOR   Sinmilola Oyewole

    HAMEED   Rasheed Aluko

    BULUS   Tobi Joel-Taiwo

    ALEX   Uche Enechukwu

    Director   Olusegun Adefila

    Lights   Dotun Olagbegi

    CHORUS

    Joy Akrah

    Aisat Onitiri

    Nike Shittu

    Mary-anne Okpeodu

    Taiwo Ojudun

    Segun Akinduro

    Michael Olukayode

    Femi Akinde

    Moses Olaitan

    Christian Ekpo

    Busayo Olowu

    11:50AM

       Veteran sits in a wheelchair by his door. The furniture that can be seen is old and worn; the room is clean and tidy.

    Veteran   I hear it coming.

       I hear them coming. Did you ever hear things coming?

       And you knew so well they were coming?

       It is a disturbing feeling.

       Like when I saw Zamani in my dreams… she was joyful.

       Waddling in her space. She made to whisper something to me; but she only made bubbles. Her eyes told me she was in despair.

       She wriggled and turned away. Zamani never turned her back on me.

       She did, that night. And I began to sweat a very salty sweat.

       I found Zamani in her bright orange, floating on the water surface.

       Her eyes were still open.

       What was she trying to say to me?

       From that very sad moment, I have heard them coming…

       Above the rumpuses of football fans, the rain tapping furiously on rusted zinc, above the humming of confused votaries, the cranking of car engines, the nagging of wives and grunting of men… above the cat fights at happyman brothel… Above all of the clatter of the universe, I hear these things coming.

       So I drink to erase, I drink to forget and I forget to remember and I remember only the extraneous.

       I saw shadows on my veranda. I did not know whom or what they sought.

    They multiplied and

    Enjoying the preview?
    Page 1 of 1