By Anote Ajeluorou
SUDDENLY, the glory days of Nigerian theatre were brought
back again as MUSON Centre, Onikan, Lagos, swarmed with audiences starting from
December 29, 2015 through January 3, 2016 for Uche Nwokedi’s Kakadu and Bolanle Austin-Peters’ Wakaa. The two Broadway-style Musical
Theatres became the perfect way to end a year on a high note of excellence in
cultural production.
With the absence of functional theatre
elsewhere in the city of Lagos, MUSON became a mecca for culture lovers who had
a dose of immersion in the magic of dance, songs and drama the two productions
provided ardent fans. For once it was evident that the theatre, when properly
managed and executed the way Austin-Peters and Nwokedi did with their products,
could be a huge business opportunity just beckoning for the daring investors. Wakaa’s 11 shows and Kakadu’s equal number of shows had the
halls sold out. By Saturday, January 2, fans were being turned away as all available
seats in the halls had been sold out for both productions.
For MUSON Shell Hall
to accommodate more people, Austin-Peters’ BAP Productions had to erect an
elevated terrace from half the hall backwards for audiences to see Wakaa. Event at that, many still
couldn’t find seats and had to resort to standing just to see the electrifying
show. At Kakadu, fans were begging to
buy VIP tickets on Saturday, but it was too late as seats were no longer
available even for the highest bidders. The Sunday, January 3 had also been
sold out. These two performances showed how hungry Lagosians are for well made
live performances that are also massively promoted to engender interest.
Kakadu took the audience back to Nigeria’s independence in 1960s
and the five years immediately following the euphoria of self-rule. Kakadu
nightclub was where it happened for those with a taste for the good life went
to unwind. The buoyant mood, the music, the women, the dance and the
camaraderie all made Kakadu the prime fun spot. Even Osahon (Samuel Tom) from
the hinterland is soon sucked into the vortex of Kakadu enchanting lifestyle
and would easily have been lost in its web but for the timely advice by its
manager/owner, Lugard Da Rocha (Benneth Ogbeiwi) who tells him that in Lagos, “The
only champion is ‘Lagos’”.
However, in spite of
the optimism Nigeria’s independence generated, signs of a crack among the
political elite had begun to be visible from newspaper reports. Reports of
corruption were rife, with Emeka (Joseph Okoro) expressing concerns on the way
the ship of state had begun to drift. The stage was set for the inevitable
political upheaval that would break out barely six years later in a bloody
civil war. Emeka and his family and many others from Eastern Region and Cross
Rivers had to flee Lagos for safety to their ancestral homelands.
When the war ends,
Emeka and his kith and kin are left to count their horrendous losses – in loved
ones and property. Meanwhile, the war had inflicted deep wounds on the national
psyche, with distrust now a national pastime. Emeka’s heartthrob, Bisi
(Damilare Kuku), has a hard time convincing his father for an inter-tribal
marriage with Emeka. But their love prevails and they marry, as a small sign of
a bright future awaiting the country.
In fact, there are
as many narrative dimensions to the war as there were characters involved in
the war. Eno (Theodora Onoapojo) from the Calabar region certainly has a story
to tell, too, just like Emeka on whose ancestral land the battle for the
survival of a nascent country raged for three long years. Inevitably, he
sustains the greatest casualty. His mother and many others were bombed to death
in a refugee camp.
‘This nation is a
vessel in expedition. Where we go, we do not know,’ a line from one of the
characters of Kakadu, encapsulates
Nigeria’s condition from 1970 when the war ended. But where has Nigeria’s
journey led so far? Certainly not the destination the citizens desire. 45 years
on, the country appears drifting; conditions that led to the avoidable war are
still prevalent. What must be done? This is the sum total of the musical
theatre beyond the blitz of the entertainment it provided.
Bad as it is, Nwokedi infuses a song of hope
and optimism in the narrative in the enchanting song that ends the performance.
It is also a question mark: ‘where do we go having arrived here as a people who
have been trampled under foot by those who believe the country is their private
estate?’
INDEED, more than the blitz of performance, stage magic and
entertainment generated, Kakadu and Wakaa turned out politically engaging
pieces of theatre. Kakadu’s polemics is assured, with its politics
of war and how Nigeria has failed to move progressively forward since
independence with the ghost of the
war impeding development. While Kakadu digs
at the ground norm of the country’s political failiure from foundation, Wakaa takes the politics to the present with
its dirty nature characterised by pervasive corruption.
Four young people
leave university and set out on a journey into careers that finally define them
for what they are. Tosan (Patrick Dibuah) is the would-be politician who wants
to clean up the stable; his uncle Governor Sagay (Bimbo Manuel) is the typical
corrupt politician who sees politics as ‘a game of chop-I-chop, a game of
thrones’ and appropriates state’s funds for personal uses; Tosan sees it as his
duty to oust him from power for good things to happen to his state. Governor
Sagay’s political protégé Tosan is the man poised to do so when he breaks away
from him after confirming evidence of his uncle’s graft.
He teams up his
friend Ngozi (Ade Laoye) who runs a child development centre and her benefactor
Cletus (Chris Ubani) who gladly help him with his political ambition. Cletus gives
Tosan a platform to win elections and run a clean government to change the
political dynamics away from the rut undermining the country’s development.
Nevertheless, the
political leanings of these two musicals are seamlessly woven into the fabrics
of the narratives and audiences were made to assimilate the politics along with
the stage magic engendered.
Both performances
gave Lagosians and Nigerians something heavy to chew. They were not just
run-of-the-mill performances; the satire in them is palpable. But it wasn’t
just politics either. Kakadu and Wakaa exemplified the theatre
performance festival that has been missing all along in the country’s cultural
calendar.
Easter, perhaps, is the next performance date
for lovers of these two theatres, especially for those who were too skeptical
to see the New Year shows.