Entering the Crucible auditorium on a dark evening, a huge space under a muted sun reveals a busy market at the end of a working day. We are in Oro, Nigeria, before the end of WW2 where the Yoruba Empire has recently lost its king. The townspeople eagerly await the arrival of the King’s Horseman, who is required to perform a ritual suicide which will enable him to lead the deceased King to meet his ancestors. A band of drums and other rhythmic instruments inspire the women to join in with rich-toned African chanting, which is a delight to hear.
Playwright Wole Soyinka, now nearly 90, has had an outstanding and varied career as academic, creative writer and political activist. In Death and the King’s Horseman, he juxtaposes the culture and values of the Yoruba nation with those of the British colonialists. ‘Duty’, ‘Responsibility’ and ‘Honour’ are concepts important in both cultures. But the emphasis is on very different things.
Elesin the Horseman has led a comfortable life as the King’s Servant, has had needs supplied and demands met, been lauded by the community and has had many wives. Even though he is close to his end, he insists on one more marriage to a beautiful girl who passed him in the market square, and after a short disagreement with Iyaloja, the powerful and authoritative Mother of the Market, he has his way.
The scenes in which the colonialists appear are stylistically quite different from the Yoruba scenes and verge on satire and TV sitcoms. Simon Pilkins is an unintelligent District Officer, whose wife Jane sees herself as much fitter for the job than he is. It doesn’t occur to either of them, or indeed to more superior members of the Residency, that it is totally unacceptable for them to wear confiscated masks used in serious native ceremonies to a fancy dress ball, or indeed to make cynical comments about Christian rituals to recent converts. All of this, including the comic policemen, is beginning to feel like farce.
After his marriage, Elesin seems to lose track of time and is locked up by a colonial policeman when it seems he might commit suicide, which is forbidden by the authorities. Elesin loses his opportunity to die for his king and country and is a disgraced figure who has neglected his duty, avoided responsibility and besmirched his honour. Simon Pilkins and the policemen don’t fare much better, as they seem to have triggered off a riot during a visit by a Royal Prince and will probably be punished for it.
The effect of Elesin’s failure is disastrous for his family and for the wider Yoruban community. Elesin’s son Olunde has been waiting to do his duty and say goodbye to his father before he dies. He rejects his disgraced father when they meet, but Elesin’s failure and disgrace can only be negated if Olunde assumes the role of Horseman and guide and sacrifices himself for the King and his community. There is nothing left for Elesin to live for, so he kills himself.
There are powerful perormances from all the main characters. Wale Ojo is exceptional as Elesin and covers the emotional range of the role in a way that compels admiration. Theo Ogundipe is powerful as Elesin’s other self, particularly when he gradually self-destructs in response to Elesin’s failure. Kehinde Bankole as Iyalojah has magnificent stage presence and a strong, resonant voice, as have many of the women in the chorus.
This is a complex, thrilling play which deals well with subtextual issues relating to politics and morality. The direction by Mojisola Kareem is exemplary, with everyone in the cast, professional or not, absorbed in their performances and contributing strongly to the singing and physical aspects of the roles. An impressive and enjoyable experience.