BLACK WOMAN GENIUS ~ I AM FIRE by Elizabeth Nafula

Elizabeth Nafula is a passionate playwright, storyteller and performer. Her plays and monologues have appeared in Lolwe, Kinsman Avenue Publishing, Journal of African Youth Literature, and Shabach Enterprise. She has earned recognition from the Flow Monologue Festival, Theatre Roulette, Purple Crayons, and Playwrights Round Table, with her script recently celebrated for its originality by Reels Script.

Elizabeth fell in love with theatre early on, and her work often dances on the line between heartfelt drama and the unexpected twists that make audiences smile. She brings together language and drama with academic ties to the University of Eldoret, Moi University, Wits University, the University of Cape Town, the University of New York, and the American Library in Paris. Wherever there’s theatre, she’s home.

Links: 

Lolwe
https://lolwe.org
A Culinary Prelude - Elizabeth Nafula

The Journal of African Youth Literature
https://jaylit.com
Drama

ABOUT THE MONOLOGUE

I Am Fire centers on Ida B. Wells in her mid-twenties, during a single late night in Memphis, after racial violence and the destruction of her press. Sitting alone at her desk, surrounded by unfinished pages and the sound of approaching danger, Ida weighs the cost of publishing what she knows against the consequences of staying silent. She thinks about the people she has lost, the threats gathering outside her door, and the reality that her words have already made her a target. Writing is no longer a choice driven by ambition but it is the only response she has left. As the night deepens, fear gives away to action. Ida decides to leave Memphis, not to disappear, but to continue her work elsewhere. Though her press has been destroyed, her reporting has not. She carries her words with her, determined to keep speaking publicly, even as the danger follows. 

EXCERPT FROM I AM FIRE

     ~ Excerpt published by permission, all rights held by the playwright.

                 IDA                    

 

(The crowd murmuring grows louder outside. Ida freezes, glances toward the window.) 

 

Oh, they're out there. I hear them. Brave men needing torches to fight a woman with a type writer. Imagine that! 

 

(Ida exhales, steels herself, and starts packing papers frantically into the drawer.) 

 

I knew this would happen.

You can't whisper when your friends are hanging from trees.  

 

    (Spotlight flashes red. Ida stops, straightens) 

 

They burned my words. But they forgot one thing... 

 

    (Ida steps forward, voice rising like thunder) 

 

You can burn paper... but not the truth. 

 

(Ida slams her hand on the desk. The typewriter bell dings once. Lights shift to blue calm. She pulls out a folded letter.) 

 

Chicago's calling. I'll go. I'll write louder, until the ink starts marching 

 

    (Ida laughs breathlessly) 

 

They think they chased me out, but they just gave me legs.