Refugee Boy, West Yorkshire Playhouse, Leeds

 

Jonathan Brown
Monday 18 March 2013 12:50 GMT
Comments

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

Benjamin Zephaniah’s second novel Refugee Boy has played a powerful role in humanising the plight of the enforced migrant for a generation of young people. Published in 2001 following his encounter with a young Sri Lankan boy who had witnessed the murder of his parents in the country’s brutal civil war, the poet wrote the book hoping to convince his audience that refugees were not just statistics but real, brave, living-breathing people.

By substituting Ethiopia and Eritrea for the warring factions of the sub-continent he unwittingly mirrored the life of East African poet Lemn Sissay – who came to Britain seeking sanctuary and received it at the hands of a deeply religious white family that seem to have done their best to add a fresh layer of trauma to the young man’s life.

Sissay like the chief protagonist of Refugee Boy, Alem – and Zephaniah - was no stranger to the inside of a children’s home and the challenges of growing up different in a conditionally welcoming culture. Zephaniah had originally wanted the stage adaptation of this enduring novel for young adults to be undertaken by an unknown writer drawn from the local area.

But Sissay pleaded with him to be allowed to complete the task and Zephaniah eventually agreed. There was a danger that the subject matter of the play could come over as worthy even a little preachy. This was a trap largely avoided by an adaptable cast and an evocative stage set which seemed to be made up almost entirely of suitcases – that battered symbol of human movement.

Alem arrives in the UK on holiday with his father who decides to leave him safely here whilst he returns to face the dangers of his native land and its marauding young gunmen. It is a threat murderously enhanced by his mixed marriage and the fact his 14-year-old son straddles the ethnic divide. Left to the mercy of the asylum system Alem, played by Fisayo Akinade, proves a cheerful and resilient young man who drinks in the benefits of a British state education whilst learning to survive in the teenage urban jungle.

The play builds nicely as we are drawn into his struggle but it becomes a much more multi-dimensional affair when we are introduced to his well-meaning but bruised foster family who must juggle their good intentions with their own emotional needs for the good of the boy. The brutality of events back in Ethiopia are contrasted with the growing comfort of Alem’s improving domestic set up which is cruelly shattered when the dream of his father’s return becomes a tragic reality.

West Yorkshire Playhouse to 30 March

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in