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By Damiete Braide
My Southern Love, a stage play written by Faith Ajet, is a gripping love story set against the backdrop of xenophobia, cultural prejudice and strained diplomatic relations. Through a cast of more than 27 actors, the playwright interrogates the growing animosity between Nigeria and South Africa, dramatising the gruesome murder of Chime, the grandson of a prominent and highly respected Nsukka chief, and his girlfriend, Nneoma, in South Africa.
The play opens with the shocking news of Chime’s death. On hearing the announcement, Chief Okonkwo, his grandfather, collapses and dies. One of his kinsmen stoops to check his heartbeat, confirming that he is dead.
Chime, who owns a clothing shop in a mall close to that of his uncle, Mr Obi, in South Africa, has become another victim of xenophobic violence.
However, Chief Okonkwo’s death does not mark the end of his presence on stage. His ghost begins to roam around his lifeless body, his widow, kinsmen, village chiefs, Mr Obi and other sympathisers who have gathered to mourn with the bereaved family.
As the actors freeze, Chief Okonkwo’s ghost begins a soliloquy, recalling the circumstances surrounding the tragedy.
“Here lies the body of your love from the West, who became imprisoned when you were in prison, who encompassed you with nothing but love, who you killed without a prick in your conscience, without saying a hearty goodbye…” his ghost laments.
Earlier that day, Mr Obi, the elderly protagonist of the play, who lives in South Africa and was one of Chief Okonkwo’s students in the 1970s, had arrived in Nsukka with the devastating news.
“Okonkwo’s grandson, Chime, whose father was killed during a confrontation with an intruder on his farmland, has been killed,” he announces. “He was murdered on Wednesday around 2:30 a.m. on a windy night in Soweto.”
However, the manner in which Obi delivers the tragic news does not sit well with the people, who consider his approach contrary to their cultural traditions.
“Obi, this is not the way to deliver such bad news. Your stay in South Africa has affected your sense of reasoning. You no longer think like a real Igbo man. You should have called us aside to break the news. We would then have considered how to pass it on to an elderly man like Nna anyi Okonkwo,” Kinsman One reprimands him.
“That is right, my brother. That is no way to tell Nna anyi Okonkwo that his only grandson, whom he hopes will carry on the family lineage, is dead,” Kinsman Two adds.
Kinsman Three can only exclaim, “Alu!” meaning abomination.
With heavy sighs, Mr Obi proceeds to narrate the events that led to Chime’s murder.
“Chime came to my shop one early morning and told me he had a problem. I asked him what it was. He explained that his landlord, Mr Zwelinzima, had ordered him to vacate his shop.
According to him, Zwelinzima said a Soweto indigene was in serious need of the shop.
“Chime said he asked Zwelinzima why he was treating him unfairly, but the landlord replied: ‘You are not one of us, Chime.'”
Dissatisfied with the explanation, Chime reportedly reminded him: “But I am an African like you.”
At this point, Zwelinzima allegedly grabbed the collar of his shirt and declared: “We are the true Africans. You know nothing about the struggle. Only a South African knows the struggle of being called an African.”
He went further to argue that only those who speak indigenous South African languages, including Xhosa, Afrikaans, Sesotho and isiZulu, and whose ancestors shed their blood during the struggle for freedom, understood what it meant to be called African.
But Chime insisted that he had nowhere else to go. Zwelinzima, however, remained adamant, giving him only five days to vacate the shop.
Mr Obi explains that he advised Chime, as an elder and someone with considerable experience in South Africa, to remain calm and avoid taking rash decisions.
He continues: “He left, and the following day, he called to inform me that he was going to Zwelinzima’s house to plead with him.
“I advised him to tread carefully, knowing Zwelinzima to be a reckless womaniser who was hostile towards Nigerians, judging from what Chime had told me. Being one of Soweto’s wealthiest landlords, many of our people had unpleasant experiences with him.”
According to Obi, Chime promised to take things easy before ending the conversation.
Hours passed, and towards evening, his wife, Mama Chibuzor, asked whether he had heard from Chime. Obi then decided to call him.
“He picked up on my third attempt and began lamenting,” he recalls.
“Chai! Was that when he was killed?” Kinsman Three interjects anxiously, as the others urge Obi to continue.
Obi explains that he again advised Chime to remain calm, but the young man was already frustrated.
“Uncle, nobody will chase me from my shop! Nobody! I can’t lose my business. I have a lot to do right now. This December, I plan to go and ask for Nneoma’s hand in marriage back in Nigeria. This man wants to spoil my market,” Chime reportedly told him.
“Nneoma, the Owerri girl who sells Nigerian costumes close to your shop?” Obi asks.
Chime confirms, prompting Obi to laugh and exclaim jokingly: “Ah! That is good news, my brother! That girl has used Ofe Owerri to scatter your head, my boy!”
At this point, Chime reveals what he considers another disturbing dimension to the landlord’s hostility.
He tells Obi that Zwelinzima, a married man with grown-up children, has been making advances towards Nneoma, his girlfriend.
Obi, however, is more concerned about what transpired when Chime visited the landlord.
According to Chime, Zwelinzima told him to return to Nigeria, accusing Nigerians of taking over South African land, corporate jobs, shops and women, while refusing to share their own women with other nationalities.
“He insisted that I had only four days to vacate the shop. He then walked me out of his house, cursing his late elder brother for renting the shop to a Nigerian in the first place,” Chime recounts.
At this point, Chief Okonkwo’s ghost returns to the stage, questioning South Africa’s apparent ingratitude towards Nigeria, considering Nigeria’s contributions to the struggle against apartheid and the eventual liberation of South Africa from white minority rule.
“How grateful can they be? He has the guts to chase my grandson from his shop, telling him that Nigerians have taken over their land, shops, jobs and women.
“Their youths came to our land, and many of them were given scholarships. We supported them relentlessly and joyfully declared that Africa could not be free if South Africa was not free,” the ghost laments.
As the actors freeze at the sight of the ghost, the stage gradually returns to life after his appearance.
Mr Obi continues to console Chime, assuring him that everything will be fine. He also advises him to make another attempt to appeal to Zwelinzima, reminding him that he is in a foreign country and must exercise caution.
But Chime feels he has exhausted every available avenue of appeal.
Seeing how frustrated the young man has become, Obi promises to accompany him on his next visit to Zwelinzima.
Chime is delighted by the offer, particularly because Zwelinzima and Obi belong to the same age grade, a relationship he believes could help facilitate a peaceful resolution.
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“That was quite kind of you, my brother,” Kinsman Two remarks.
When Obi and Chime eventually visit Zwelinzima in Chime’s car, they are asked to wait because the landlord is attending to an important meeting.
They wait for hours. Zwelinzima only appears towards the end of the day, carrying his briefcase and preparing to leave. The two men immediately approach him.
As the situation deteriorates, Chime’s kinsmen, community elders, the traditional ruler (Igwe) and Mr Obi decide to pursue the matter through diplomatic channels.
They resolve to visit the South African ambassador to Nigeria, hoping to secure justice before considering travelling to South Africa.
Their delegation arrives in Abuja, the Federal Capital Territory, and, after some initial setbacks, is granted an audience with the ambassador.
The ambassador rises to welcome them. Noticing the presence of an Igbo traditional ruler, he greets him in the customary manner.
“Igweee!” he echoes.
The Igwe responds with a blessing: “May you live long.”
“Please, make yourselves comfortable,” the ambassador says, instructing his secretary to offer them refreshments.
But sensing the urgency of their mission, the Igwe declines.
“That will not be necessary, dear Ambassador. We are here to discuss something very crucial.”
Impressed by the Igwe’s seriousness, the ambassador asks his secretary to excuse them to allow the meeting to proceed.
“Yes, we are here with grief in our hearts because our son and daughter have been murdered in South Africa,” the Igwe declares.
With a solemn expression, the ambassador responds: “I heard about it. It is a very bad act, I must say.”
But the Igwe is dissatisfied with the response.
“What is even worse is the fact that the alleged murderer has been released and is walking freely, as though nothing happened.”
The ambassador appears surprised.
“No, that cannot be! But, if I may ask, what really happened? Because, erm, you know, incidents like this sometimes arise from certain circumstances. I have heard about the development from the Nigerian ambassador to South Africa, who alerted me, but I would like to hear your perspective.”
“Mr Ambassador, are you justifying murder? What exactly did the Nigerian ambassador tell you?” Kinsman Five demands angrily.
The ambassador appeals for calm, insisting that he is not justifying Chime’s death.
Mr Obi then intervenes, describing Chime as a responsible young man whose only supposed offence was falling in love with a woman from his own country and tribe.
He also informs the ambassador that although the police arrested Zwelinzima, the alleged murderer was subsequently released.
According to Obi, Zwelinzima is a prominent landlord who enjoys a close relationship with the police commandant in Soweto.
The ambassador, however, defends the police.
“Come on. That may be too serious an accusation to make. Our police are quite credible,” he says, smiling as he appeals for calm.
He subsequently assures the delegation that the matter will be investigated.
“Let’s not get all riled up now. That was not what I meant. Anyway, this is a report that needs to be investigated thoroughly. I assure you all that immediately after this meeting, I will communicate with my country and the appropriate authorities on the matter,” he promises.
However, Mr Obi receives the assurance with considerable scepticism, doubting whether the ambassador would take meaningful action beyond the formalities of the meeting.
“I sensed that too. He might act for the sake of formalities, but he will not push the matter,” the Igwe agrees. “We have to take action ourselves.”
The lights gradually fade, bringing the scene to an end.
Days after their meeting with the ambassador, the delegation is still waiting for a satisfactory response.
The Igwe subsequently reaches out to members of the South-Eastern Senate Caucus, who, alongside the Nigerian Senate, decide to sponsor representatives of the affected community to South Africa.
Their mission is to join Nigerians already protesting in Soweto and demand justice for the murdered couple.
The development attracts considerable media attention, prompting the Nigerian Senate and the Federal Government to demand immediate action from the South African government. They warn that the continued failure to address the incident could strain diplomatic relations between the two countries.
Under mounting pressure, the South African President summons the Soweto Police Commandant and arranges a meeting with representatives of the protesters.
Mr Obi, the Nigerian delegation, led by the Igwe and accompanied by members of the village council, are among those invited to the meeting.
They arrive at the President’s official residence, Mahlamba Ndlopfu, in Pretoria, where they are ushered into a conference room.
The South African ambassador to Nigeria and the Nigerian ambassador to South Africa are also present.
When the President eventually walks in, everyone rises to welcome him.
The turning point of the play comes when the South African President, alongside his country’s ambassador to Nigeria, apologises to Nigeria for the murder of Chime and Nneoma. The President also condemns Zwelinzima’s conduct and promises that those responsible will face justice.
“On behalf of our great nation, I want to extend our condolences to our Nigerian friends and the families who have lost these wonderful young people. We are ashamed of this act! It is intolerable! And I will make sure that all those who had a hand in this are brought to book,” he pledges.
In conclusion, My Southern Love is a thought-provoking theatrical production that goes beyond romance to interrogate xenophobia, historical ingratitude, cultural identity, discrimination and the fragile relationship between African nations.
Through Chime and Nneoma’s tragic experience, Faith Ajet challenges the notion that African identity should be determined by nationality, language or geographical boundaries.
The play also reminds audiences of Nigeria’s historical sacrifices in the struggle against apartheid and the need for mutual respect among African countries.
Beyond its entertainment value, the production deserves a place in theatres and educational institutions, including primary and secondary schools, where its lessons on tolerance, peaceful coexistence, respect for diversity and the dangers of bullying could have a lasting impact.
Ultimately, My Southern Love sends a powerful message: Africa cannot achieve genuine unity while xenophobia, prejudice and hatred continue to take root among its people.
