This wholesome, honest play, full of personality and vulnerability, explores the concepts of identity, ambition, success, traditions and what it means to be Ghanaian in London in the 1960s.
Kicking off its autumn season with the world premiere of Jacob Roberts-Mensah’s new play, Drum, Omnibus Theatre sets the bar really high indeed. Although surprisingly short in duration (merely 70’ long), this play is the definition of quality over quantity.
Borrowing its name from the legendary South African magazine, Drum takes us back to the BBC studios in 1967. There, Ghanaian broadcaster Mike Eghan is anxiously waiting for renowned photographer and fellow Ghanaian, James Barnor, who will photograph Eghan for DRUM Magazine. Through his play, Jacob Roberts-Mensah imagines what their encounter might have looked like.
The relatively small stage of the Omnibus serves this play well and lends to the atmosphere of a small radio studio. Sarah Amankwah in her directorial debut creates a set that is simple, yet effective, comprised mainly of a turntable, records, Mike Eghan’s desk, a couple of chairs and some posters on the back wall. Right from the get-go, it is obvious that music is going to play an integral part in the telling of this story. Each song that is chosen by the characters throughout the performance represents a different part of their identities and their connection with their homeland. It also allows the audience to connect with the Ghanaian culture in an emotional, rather than an intellectual way.
Benjamin Sarpong-Broni and Joshua Roberts-Mensah have a really good chemistry on stage and, despite the occasional dropped line and sound queue issues, deliver a captivating performance that makes us forget about the minor mishaps.
The two characters immediately start bonding over their common roots. They see in each other a little glimpse of home and start sharing stories, jokes and even a few dance moves. But as time passes, and this is where the brilliance of the writer reveals itself, they find that what unites them the most is also what divides them the most. Barnor criticizes Eghan for turning his back to Ghana in exchange for a comfortable, westernized life in London. He accuses him of shedding his Ghanaian identity, for turning a blind eye to the sociopolitical problems of their homeland and for refusing to go back and become part of the solution to those problems. Eghan, in a powerful monologue -delivered passionately by Benjamin Sarpong-Broni- defends his decisions and how they contribute in a different way to the welfare of Ghana. How there isn’t one way or a correct way of being Ghanaian.
While I personally do not have any Ghanaian or African heritage, this play really resonated with me and my experiences as an expat, as I am sure it will with many, many others in a city as multicultural as London. The struggles of trying to be accepted by a different society while maintaining your sense of self, the comfort of food and music from your homeland that you are sometimes embarrassed to admit that you miss, the guilt of leaving behind friends and family so you can have a better life than them and the pressure of having to be the one who “made it”. And the eternal question: “have I made the right choice?”, which is of course, unanswerable.
Overall, this short and sweet play gives us a glimpse into the rich Ghanaian culture and allows us to find our own questions and answers around our sense of identity, our roots and our dreams for the future. Any person who has ever made the decision to leave their homeland will find a bit of themselves in this play, which, while set in the 60s, is arguably equally relevant now, when the UK’s attitudes towards immigration are becoming less and less friendly.
(Spoiler alert: Mike Eghan did, after all, go back.)