Everything takes longer in Mombasa. But there's this old-fashioned courtesy to the way things are done - face-to-face, conversationally, rather than transactionally, that makes it hard to resent. Time has an elastic quality here - the day stretches and stretches and stretches..........
Tomorrow, the first of the open forum events, where I do a short performance, followed by a discussion with the audience. I'm doing one of these every day before the show next Friday. Plus radio interviews, and talks to the Rotary club, and workshops for street kid projects. I look at my schedule and think:
You're going to lose your voice before the show.But I feel driven. A week ago, I wanted to cancel this Mombasa tour. It seemed beyond outrageous to come to the coast to do a show when 23,000 people were homeless due to floods. Over half-a-million infected with conjunctivitis. The Red Cross warning of crises of malaria and other diseases. But as H, Mombasa-native theatre artist said to me today:
Mombasa has seen much worse. For people to stay away is not the solution.So the point of all these gigs is to open space for peoples' voices to come through. To ask how we channel our rage and sadness and impotence and frustration into action. Into political will. Into change. How we use art to move us from paralysis to engagement.
And, on a practical level, all the proceeds from the show will go to putting mabati roofs on houses for flood survivors.
