It’ll Be Alright: A Short Play
Act 1, Scene 1
The light comes up on stage showing the presence of a bright sun that compliments the name of the day -Sunday- as people strut haphazardly out of the church. You can see them in groups of various numbers discussing the brilliance of the sermon, or the event that took place in the previous week. At the flower bush close to the church’s gate, some young adults in white polo with green inscription that read ‘CYON’ on it and a black skirt or trousers are seen posing for pictures. Madam Grace is seen holding a tall fair young man by his arm while she says inaudible things and points in different directions with her head. A big smile suddenly appears on her face when her eyes fell on a girl who appears to be in her late twenties and approaching her, also with a smile and open arms as she reached for an embrace.
Madam Grace: My love, how are you?
Yinka: I'm fine ma.
Madam Grace: You look it. Is this that shoe you bought from me (looking down at the silver-like medium heel Yinka wore)?
Yinka: Yes ma.
Madam Grace: Ah, it fits you so well.
Yinka: Thank you ma.
Madam Grace: Eh this is my son Micheal (she taps the wrist of the young man whose arms she was holding).
Yinka: Ah, the one in America.
Madam Grace: Yes. How did you know (a look of surprise temporarily replaces her smile)?
Yinka: Madam Grace, is there anybody that does not know your son is in America?
Madam Grace: Mm my dear it's God oo. Micheal, meet Yinka (To her son).
Micheal: It's nice to meet you.
Madam Grace: (cuts Yinka short just when she is about to respond) Father! Father! (she calls to the priest as she exits the stage).
Micheal: Typical African mother (he smiles while shaking his head and Yinka is seen laughing and shaking her head too). She has told me so much about you. She hopes that we get married.
Yinka: (her eyes widen in shock, but the laugh still remains in her mouth) Well, it's a good thing this isn't the century when such matters are handled in that manner.
Micheal: (dresses back a little to take a better view of her) Do you usually talk like that?
Yinka: How? (realizing what he means, she laughs) Oh, no. I'm recently glued to a British movie, hence…
Micheal: Oh, ok (he laughs too). Mine happens when I watch a Russian movie. I can even do the accent now.
Yinka: Mm, really?
Michael: (attempts to speak in a Russian accent but fails) Yinka is a pretty girl.
Yinka: Oh my, that was so perfect. If my eyes and brain were tired, I'd definitely believe you were Russian.
Micheal: I kno…(he stops when he realizes what she said) Wait, what?
(Yinka is laughing at him, and he stands watching her both amused and in awe).
Micheal: I was told Nigerians no longer know how to laugh.
Yinka: What? (recuperating herself).
Micheal: You know, with all that is going on. I was told my people have lost their smiles. That they traded laughter for strength to survive. It was sad coming back and seeing that things are not as they were before I left, and they're not better either. Last night a woman came to beg my mom for three cups of rice that she will cook for her family today. This is a family I've known since I was a kid. They were never wealthy, but they were never beggars.
Yinka: Only two classes of people exist now in Nigeria.
Micheal: It's pitiful, but I don't pity y'all (he keeps a stern face).
Yinka: (shocked at his statement) Why?
Micheal: Because y'all just keep quiet, and allow things to happen to you. Nobody does anything around here. If anything, I'm enraged at Nigerians.
Yinka: What do you want us to do? (still shocked but maintaining her calm)
Micheal: Fight!
Yinka: How?
Micheal: Take to the streets, raise your voices, tell them enough is enough.
Yinka: (she smiles a sad smile and shakes her head) And you think that will solve the problem of Nigerian? Millions of poor people on the street with placards protesting against the hardship they're facing? Because best believe, the rich won't be there. Who wants to hear a poor man cry? If they were bothered by our tears or the whispering sound that comes from our shrunken guts, do you think they would be imposing different laws up and down to impede us?
Micheal: You see, that's the mindset of a common Nigerian. Y'all give yourself these excuses so you don't come out and instead survive till you perish.
Yinka: It's not an excuse (she is now forced to be stern in her tone). What happened in the EndSars protest that Nigerians came out for? People died! They were killed by their own countrymen while holding the flag. And after their death what happened? Their own people denied them rest and claimed there was not a soul dead. After seeing that demonstration, do you really expect people to become agitated to protest? Why not die of starvation, at least my soul will rest and no one will deny my death. Is it not better than dying like pigs on the land that is supposed to be your father’s land?
Micheal: (he is colder than he was seconds ago) I understand what you mean, but keeping quiet is not the best way about it.
Yinka: And neither is doing something. I mean, what do you want us to do at this point?
Micheal: I don't know, but something has to be done.
Yinka: That is why we come to church and pray the best we can, hoping God will intervene. That is all we know we can do right now.
(They both heave sighs and savor the silence of their lips while gazing at the almost emptied church environment).
Micheal: (nodding his head slowly) It’ll be alright.
(Yinka affirms with a nod and the light fades from the stage.
Please let me know your honest opinion after reading this. It is my first ever written play and I would love your feedbacks.
Also, the play was inspired by a Twitter writing prompt: It’ll Be Alright.
