Prologue: The Tuning

Keep trying.


The CHORUS is huddled around a small radio. They are tuning it, trying to reach a radio station. For a long few beats, they are met with only static.

CHORUS A: Keep trying.


CHORUS B holds the radio up high in the air. Nothing. Just static.


Suddenly, the radio tunes in to a song. The CHORUS freeze, listening. It is haunting.

CHORUS C: (whispering) Nobody move.

The CHORUS is a tableau of frozen statues. A long pause. Then, they take a deep breath and begin to speak as one.

CHORUS: Now, the story can begin. / Hear this: you proud, you wounded, you short of breath, you blinded by tears, you with a foot upon your back. / We do not wish to tell the story of an African tragedy* / Nor a tale of suffering / of sealed fate / of pain that ceases to ache. / yes, there are dark clouds to move through / there is wind and rain ahead / but do not look away, for – see, there / in the distance / a stitching together / a mending of things torn / and hope, uncoiling and blooming as aloes do. / Let the memories come now / Let them come flooding back

The lights fade to black. The music continues softly into the next scene.