I spend a lot of time thinking about belonging these days. With my Polish-Tunisian blood boiling at the news, it’s hard not to. I have been taught and trained to take pride in my mixed heritage, to take lessons from being a daughter of an immigrant and from being an immigrant myself for fifteen years now. Immigrant. That’s a funny word; it sounds harsh. Citizen of the world sounds better. I have been called that so many times, always with warmth, feeling and a little bit of admiration.
Here marches in Khalid Abdalla, reminding us of Theresa May’s ignorant statement: ‘If you believe you are a citizen of the world, you are a citizen of nowhere.’ A statement that perfectly sums up the urgent need for shows like Nowhere, so strongly rooted in here, the place so many of us call home.
There is unspoken bravery to Abdalla’s performance. He recognises it immediately, speaking directly to the audience, as if covering the whole theatre room with a warm, dark blanket under which we can hide and feel safe. Because make no mistake: as things stand, what Abdalla is doing, with Fuel Theatre producing and Omar Elerian directing, is a protest in itself, where a simple word – action –flies into the air, not allowed to leave the room. How did we get here? If you don’t know, fear not. Abdalla is more than happy to explain.
How do you go through decades of historical background, political movements, and your own family being political prisoners entwined in a never-ending fight for your home country; forced to leave so you could come back? Footprints of friendships, western colonialism, 9/11, Israel’s genocide – all leading back to here, the place that was meant to be safe, now denying your own identity?
Abdalla doesn’t compromise, and throws everything he’s got at the audience. Starting with the Arab Spring in Egypt and his own involvement in the protests, we jump through history and the personal in this beautiful symphony of quiet and loud, images and movements, storytelling and facts. The use of multimedia is nothing short of genius, keeping me completely involved throughout the 90-minute emotional rollercoaster. Everything has a carefully chosen time and space in the deceptive chaos of fast-track micro lessons on neoliberalism and colonialism (just in case you need them) and light (though still reflective) moments.
The tension breaks with a completely unexpected identity reveal, to the amusement of the audience: solidifying the universal truth that, actually, we are citizens of the world, connected in ways unimaginable to us, and this should be something good and celebratory, no matter what governments try to impose on us.
Because even though I sometimes want to sit down and cry ‘POOR YOU’ to myself (as Abdalla is told by an auditioning agent), it’s so important to find beautiful moments and remember the strength of our own identity. Seeing Abdalla playfully dance to Arab music, swaying hips like I have done so many times (and not enough times), brings unexplainable joy and understanding of how we might not even realise that we hide the purest parts of ourselves. For me, it’s turning the volume down when I play my favourite Arabic songs while the windows are open, and I still don’t know why. What is it for you?
You’re welcome to reflect and, quite literally, look at your own reflection, in a wholesome exercise that’s a lesson on identity at times when you might feel that identity is blurred, and your critical self-voice louder than self-love. Abdalla’s reflection on this, with an afterthought of ‘Oh, I needed you today’ stayed with me long after the performance, and is with me now as I write and look at my own reflection of the person I was last night.
Nowhere comes to an end with a gentle ask and a last gesture. And while it’s clear that it’s up to us to take this message out of the room, to be loud about atrocities happening at this very moment, Abdalla’s hopelessness reflects the real mood: there can be no peace if there is no action. Regardless of your own roots.
Nowhere is running at Traverse Theatre until 24th August
edfringe.com/tickets/whats-on/nowhere-here-now-showcase
Photo credit: Manuel Vason
