Rhianna Ilube and Coney’s collaboration of this immersive experience provides gentle provocations for its audience

The 1884 Berlin Conference, also known as the West Africa Conference, marks a pivotal milestone in the history of European colonialism in Africa. It is often neglected in history and in the UK – a country constantly shunning its own colonial history. Rhianna Ilube, together with Coney, a Charity specialist in immersive experiences, decides to retell its underpinning story through an innovative game-theatre experience. 

The audience, or more accurately the players, are invited to form temporary groups of six to seven members, who have no idea that they will nurture strong bonds together very soon. They are welcomed by the town’s MP, Toni (Ewa Dina), and DJ Marlowe (Jyuddah James), and a postwoman (Chusi Amoros), with whom the players will also find a peculiar but heart-warming connection not until the very last moment. Together with their group members, the players are asked to complete a series of activities that will gradually build up their identity and sense of belonging.

For the first half, the content and quality of the show is solely contingent upon the “performance” of its players: their imagination, originality and creativity. For the one I attended, the room was filled with laughter, hurrays and sounds of table-knockings, creating an illusion that it was indeed a party. It is not until a certain point – slightly hinted by DJ Marlowe starting to wear his sunglasses – that the players have to make certain decisions with their fellow group members. These decisions may divide or unite the community and for the night I attended, astonishingly the community reached a consensus even without negotiation. This unanimous agreement, both surprisingly and wittily, contributed to the next scene where Toni the MP came back to stage.

The first half is in general playful and cheering. However, I wonder if it could better resonate with its colonial context, or perhaps include more references to the Berlin Conference. From my own playing experience in the game, the first half felt more like a community governed by a UK local council regardless of race, instead of embedding the stark contrast between the colonisers and the colonised.  

It is a bit challenging to review the second half without revealing its twists and turns, as I don’t want to spoil the experience and potential revelations. What I can say is that the second half offers a much deeper emotional experience, though its nature may vary depending on the player’s perspective. For me, it was one of the uncanniest moments in my life as a theatregoer — if not the most. On one hand, it reinforced how vibrant and vital we once were, but at the same time, I felt a strong reluctance to accept the “fact” that we have been flattened, reduced, and misinterpreted as mere data – we became our own ghosts. “No, this shouldn’t be like that. I wasn’t like that. We were definitely not like that.” I screamed silently. Even I have a clear self-awareness thoroughly that this is just an immersive game show, I couldn’t help but letting my tears flow.

Fortunately, this is not the end. One thing I (dis)like about British theatre is always its gentleness. The prick and provocation against the audience are never too harsh or offensive, and even when they are, some “remedy” will commence shortly thereafter. The last moments of the show appear as such a cathartic process that leaves the players with a lingering sense of warmth, upliftment and a faint scent of hope. One more emotional strike, which I truly relish.