One Virgin, Many Deaths

A Stageplay

By Geoff Adeleye (Nigeria)

Act 1, Scene 2

                                  ACT I

                            Scene II

                   A spot under a tree along a farm path.
          Enter RENATE carrying a basket of yams on her head,
     being exhausted, traipses.
RENATE [stops, yawns]: Poor strained neck, you must need some relief!
   [gently and carefully, brings down the basket, sits down] Oh, what
   cool wind blows! How doting are this zephyr’s hands, caressing
   with trickle; and with euphonious voice, whooshes crones into
   my ears!

                                                       
                                        Enter BADEJA
   You’re welcome, sir! [BADEJA pretends not having seen her] Sir, I’m
   greeting you!
BADEJA[turns back, pleasantly asks]: Can I be of assistance to you?
RENATE: Yes, you can. But you wilfully cut me dead.
BADEJA: No, I didn’t. I was pre-occupied with my thoughts.
RENATE [looking straight into his face with splendid chuckles]: I
   love you and I want  to get married to you.
BADEJA: Proposing to me, I felt embarrassed.
RENATE: Such mentality is of no use in this modern time. Let’s talk
   business. Am I  not plum a wife?
BADEJA: Very much you’re.
RENATE [admiring and extolling herself]: Just look at my face, look
   at my breasts.[turns round] How do you see the whole anatomy? Isn’t an
   irresistible eyeful?[BADEJA nods] A treasure to seek with one’s life?
   [BADEJA smiles] How do you feel?
BADEJA: Where eyes focus mind may not be there.
RENATE: What a kick in the teeth?
BADEJA: It wasn’t I. There is a problem.
RENATE [displeased]: Which problem?
BADEJA: Your father is a chief.
RENATE: Is this your trouble?
BADEJA: Most assuredly.
RENATE: What absurdity of fright!
BADEJA: Dire fear can’t be illogical!
RENATE: Nonsense! You’ve got to fight for this great privilege.
BADEJA: It isn’t something to be rushed at. Your father will want the son
   of a chief to get married to you.
RENATE: What untenable excuse! Their egoism doesn’t exact trepidation.
   So be plucky – you can outwit them.
BADEJA: Madam, until my mind disarms my feelings I may not overrule
   my fear. I’m compressed of internal struggle of ambivalent thought.
   Oh, how I’m blue of this emotional restraint!
RENATE: You just have to stand up to my father. People are freer than 
   ever. Act your minds talk your heads. Some time ago when my father
   made me angry, I walked out on him and nothing happen thereafter.
   You’re created to be yourself, respect yourself alone.

BADEJA: Aren’t you polluting my mind with these strange talks?
RENATE: You must be civilised!
BADEJA: Is all this not arrogance?
RENATE; I think you want to die an idiot.
BADEJA: No!
RENATE: Why then listening to misfortune whistle?
BADEJA: Now I’m ready to confront anybody.
RENATE: Good! [lets out chuckles] My love for you is unfathomable,
   so nobody can offset it successfully. [caresses his cheeks]
BADEJA [softly takes away her hands]: So soon?
RENATE: True love is expressed where it’s contacted.
BADEJA: Oh, my fear has returned to my head with greater threat!
RENATE: Why?
BADEJA: I can’t hold hot love with bare hands! Your father is a chief –
   a menace.
RENATE: Don’t be a crackpot. Come out of your cold shell and get
   into my warm fleece!
BADEJA:  You see, my love isn’t without zest, within me I struggle
   to peck up; but this opposition which is making a clod out of me.
RENATE [annoyed]: You’re a clumsy man! Love knows no coyness
   but lust; and if one is cloying, then one is merely lustful. Are you
   loving or lusting after me?
BADEJA: Before you began thinking of me, I was in the mood. It’s your
   father’s chieftaincy that held me back I would’ve proposed to you long
   time ago. Enough is enough, I’m ready to go head to head with any one.
RENATE: Now you’re talking sense. [they hug and kiss each other]
BADEJA: Only God can measure what pleasure embedded in your
   lithe body. I ’m ready to die for you!
RENATE: Pardon me, sir. I’m behind the schedule. By now, certainly
   sure, my father, that cantankerous man, must’ve been hugely anxious
   to see me returning. Please, lift the basket on my head and set me going.
BADEJA: I think I need to help you. [lifts it on his own head.
RENATE: No! You haven’t got to do that. Just lower it on head.