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Pre-test: Young women acting out
CHIPAWO
April 13, 2009

There was something I had heard about this school - let's call it Wycombe High School - back in the 1980s. It was at the time when the ex-A schools in what had previously been the exclusively white suburbs, were slowly losing their character and black children were being admitted in every increasing numbers or being bussed in from the black townships. Almost all the school heads and most of the teachers on the staff were still white.

There is a kind of panic point which whites get to which when reached, triggers off a mass stampede. In terms of the children it is probably around about the 50% mark. In terms of staff it is a black school head.

At Wycombe almost all the teachers had been white until, during the school holidays, a Zimbabwean of Indian descent was appointed head. By the first day of the new school term there wasn't a white teacher on the staff.

This wasn't by any means a rare occurrence. I remember being invited to a boarding primary school a little way outside Harare as Guest of Honour at the school Speech Day. I always knew the school to be a white stronghold. But when I got there it was totally black. The same thing as happened at Wycombe, had happened at the beginning of the school year there.

Now, more than twenty years later, at Wycombe High School in the low-density suburb of Wycombe, a long time ago completely white, with the pictures still on the walls of white school teams, prefects, headmasters, the only whites in sight were a little old lady in the school office, a woman from a Scandinavian embassy who had come to see the pre-test, and myself.

And the girls trooped into the school hall, the same uniforms as had been worn in the era of Ian Smith, still smart, still well-behaved, and ready to take part in something they didn't really know much about - a participatory theatre communications on gender and HIV/AIDS pre-test. Wycombe is co-educational but this particular event was for girls only - and those who had come to engage them in it were all girls too, with the exception of someone who explained that strictly speaking he should not be there and would they please confer on him honorary female status for the afternoon - me.

The girls came in carrying chairs from the classrooms. The hall looked definitely very worse for wear. None of the electric sockets in the vicinity of the stage worked. The stage with its rather uneven floor of ropey-looking wooden tiles and the inevitable maroon curtain loomed up at the end of the hall but the area immediately in front of it had been set up for the pre-test. The girls and their female teachers sat in a loose semicircle in front of the space that was obviously going to be where the acting would take place.

Something seemed to be about to happen when a young woman walking like a sick older woman and dressed in a Zambia wrap was helped in through the hall door to seats in the front row, all the while being comforted by another young women rather smartly dressed. On what appeared to be a signal the young woman in the smart outfit carefully laid the woman, who appeared to be her mother, on the two chairs and stood up. She started talking to the girls who had come to participate in the event. Her name she said was Linga and she felt she had a story which the young women present would relate to and she wanted to share it with them.

Abruptly someone appeared and tried to stop her, saying that before she told the story it would be better to explain what the hell was going on. Linga didn't really seem to like that but she accepted it and sat down. Then there was an explanation that they had not come to see a play but rather to discuss certain very relevant issues concerning HIV/AIDS and women. This they would do not only by talking about them but also by demonstrating what they thought through acting out. However, first, as people didn't really know each other and were probably feeling a little tense, there was the suggestion that a Malawian song be sung and danced - with all the girls joining in. So the Chewa song , 'Sayiwawaza' was started up and a good time was had by all.

After that there was a bit of a buzz about the place and as the girls sat down, the ones presenting introduced themselves. There were six of them, three girls from schools in Harare, one from nearby Norton, one waiting to do her A Levels and the sixth working in CHIPAWO as an Assistant Officer. Their ages ranged from 14 to 18. The pre-test was being filmed and so the CHIPAWO film crew, two young women, also introduced themselves. The young woman who had interrupted Linga, introduced herself as the Facilitator. She was the Head of Programmes in CHIPAWO.

Another entertaining Malawian dance was started up, called 'Awuyore', in which a lot of the girls joined in. At regular intervals the dancers faced the centre of the circle, stuck their bottoms out and wiggled them to the rhythm in a captivating manner. This was much enjoyed by those dancing and those watching. Again there was a buzz and the play bit began.

The story and much of the dialogue was developed from Lutanga Shaba's very frank and intimate book, Secrets of a Woman's Soul - a must read if you can get hold of it. Lutanga is the Director of the Women's Trust of Zimbabwe. The story is about her mother, who died of AIDS, and how she herself came to be positive and eventually not only decided to disclose her status but also to play a leading role in the fight for gender equality and against AIDS.

The first few scenes showed Linga's childhood, growing up in a Malawian family in the high-density suburbs of Harare. She tells of her relationship with Beata, her mother, and Daudi, her father, and how her mother was made to suffer by her father, who paradoxically inspired Linga to be an independent, educated woman. The story comes to its first crossroads when after the death of Daudi and struggling to make ends meet, both the mother and the daughter are propositioned by a corrupt Councillor, who has given Beata a job and agreed to sponsor Linga's schooling. Beata feels she has no choice but to succumb and give him what he wants. Linga is asked to come to his office in the evening. Those watching know that Beata has given in but they do not as yet know what decision Linga will take.

At this point the Facilitator states the situation and throws it open for discussion. There is no shortage of hands and the girls begin to air their opinions, in both Shona and English, about what Beata did and what Linga should do. One of the girls begins to express her opinion on how Beata should have responded to the Councillor's proposition. She is invited to come out and show everyone what she has in mind. Completely forgetful of the reality of Beata's situation and pressures that make her accept the Councillor's proposition, she basically tells the Councillor where to get off. The Facilitator asks her what she is going to do now. She is at a bit of a loss. Someone says that Beata should report the Councillor to the police. There follows a very realistically acted scene in which she tries to tell two members of the Zimbabwe Republic Police, a man and a woman, what had happed. She doesn't get very far there. Slowly people begin to realise that Beata's decision was not as easy as all that.

What about Linga? Someone says she should tell her mother. There follows an idealistic dramatisation in which one of the girls plays the part of a very sympathetic mother. There is a strong reaction to this. Someone comes out to show what in her experience a mother would do if her daughter tried to tell her what had happened. The general approval of her rendition seemed to indicate that there are lots of mothers out there that do not listen to their daughters.

In this way, the situation has been used first to explore the choices within the context of the play and then to widen them to take in the actual experiences of the girls themselves.

The play continues. Linga feels she has no alternative. She has no other way of paying for her education and she succumbs to the Councillor, contracts an STI and goes to the clinic for treatment, where she risks embarrassment at the hands of the nurses, not to mention shame as those nurses spread it around the neighbourhood. She then sees a doctor, who suggests she bring in her partner and always use a condom. From Linga the spotlight goes to her mother, also experiencing a vaginal discharge. What should she do, she asks herself:

"I can't go to the clinic with this. Imagine the shame - at my age! No, some things are better unseen and unsaid. It is better to turn a blind eye for what is the use of knowing when you cannot do anything about it? After all, is not shame worse than death?"

So Linga goes for diagnosis and treatment and her mother doesn't. What do the girls think? Again the first reaction is to praise Linga and condemn the mother but the issues of confidentiality and public opinion begin to surface. Then moving to their experience, what about bringing your partner - or using a condom? In the case of Linga, there was no question of bringing her 'partner' but she did get him to use a condom. But then the discussion moves out to the girls' own experience or situation and the question of how easy is it to get a man, your partner, boyfriend, husband, to face up to an STI and accompany you to the clinic or to a doctor and what happens when a woman tries to get her man to wear a condom. In some boisterously acted-out scenes the problems emerge as well as the extent of education of men that is required before women can practise what they know to be best for them.

It was explained that for this, the first pre-test, only these two choices were going to be explored. The rest of the play would be acted out and the other two choices presented but not taken up. These would be taken up in later pre-tests.

The play goes on to portray Linga's dilemmas when many years later she gets married and wants to have a baby. The doctor tells her that tests show that her body is battling a major illness. She begins to re-visit the past, the STI, the fact that the blood transfusion service no longer invites her to donate, the fact that her mother is by now positive. This is the third choice to be explored - to test or not to test.

Linga tests and finds out that, though her husband in negative, she is positive. She tells her husband. Rather like Torvald in Ibsen's A Doll's House, her husband can see the disaster only in terms of how it affects him. He offers nothing but blame and accusation. Though they try, they ultimately fail to save their marriage. The final scene shows her HIV-positive, relaxing with a friend, who suggests she disclose her status. She vehemently rejects this:

"Tuberculosis is also infectious and it kills but nobody demands they disclose their condition to all and sundry."

To disclose your status - this is the last choice. The play ends with Linga telling the audience of how her mother died when she was only in her fifties:

"I vowed that one day I would tell people about my mother. I would tell the whole world about my mother, about her life, about her struggle and how humanity failed her, as it has millions others like her. And I will tell how humanity should be ashamed of itself."

So this was why Linga had stood up at the beginning and said she had a story to tell that she felt was relevant to young women and how she would like to share it with them.

(The Participatory Theatre Communications on gender and HIV/AIDS pilot project being carried out by the CHIPAWO Girl Power Centre, is supported by the European Union. The second pre-test was carried out at superstar Oliver Mtukudzi/s Pakare Paye arts centre in Norton and the third at the SOS Children's Home in Bindura, a town about 90 kms from Harare. The PTC group will now return to the drawing board, work on the presentation in the light of what the pre-tests revealed, and then demonstrate what they can do at a final communication session, attended by the Head of the European Delegation, Mr Xavier Marchal)

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