Personal and political problems in pre-independence Cameroon
Photo by Steve Gregson
Daniel Nelson
Who in this country knows about the “hidden war” of Independence in Cameroon in the 1950s? Very few people.
So if Under the Kunde Tree at the Southwark Playhouse does nothing else, it will have spread a smidgen of awareness about a country little known in Britain or about an even less known conflict between the use of English and French languages.
But that’s not all it does, because it also gives the stage to a promising playwright, Clarisse Makundul, and riveting actors - notably the remarkable Selina Jones, and Yinka Awoni.
The struggle for independence and the French and British colonial resistance to it must have been all-consuming for those involved at the time, but for most audiences likely to see the play that’s a battle won years ago that today holds virtually no dramatic tension.
So Makundul’s focus on parent-child relations, especially during a time of change, and above all on women’s expectations and opportunities gives the play its oomph.
Sara is at the centre of the piece as a spirited daughter who resists being married off by her father to an older, wealthier chief (“Don’t make me do this”) because she has eyes set on younger, poorer, politically passionate Jean, who, on learning how much the chief has offered for dowry, exclaims, ”It will take me years to find that!”
Dad sticks with the old order because it’s stable, it’s what he knows. He dismisses the political talk of freedom from French colonialism and independence as empty (“That communist has few people behind him.” You can’t help having some sympathy with his cynicism when you hear that the leader of the pro-independence party is known as Big Brother.} A clash with the young suitor is inevitable.
Other clashes crash onto the tiny stage — there’s a lot of shouting in the play — culminating in a brutal, powerfully staged police interrogation of Sara and her cousin Nadia.
Even the marriage Sara wants does not solve her problems and she warns her politically motivated husband that violence won’t work. {“Do you know what else is important? Kiss me.” He replies: “I don’t have time for that.”)
As well as her fears for his safety, she has to try to make up with her father: “You are my father. I care about you in spite of everything.” Their scenes together are the most moving in the play.
There are no happy ending here for those who suffered reactionary backlash. But Makundul has directed the spotlight onto hard political and personal decisions in harsh times, and put women at the centre of herstory.
* Under the Kunde Tree, £24/ £19.50 concessions, is at the Southwark Playhouse, 77 Newington Causeway, SE1 6BD, until 17 June. Info: 7407 0234/ https://southwarkplayhouse.co.uk/productions/under-the-kunde-tree/#book-tickets