Après moi le déluge

Kinshasa.  A high-end hotel.  A translator.  An international businessman.  And a desperate father.  Having seen the effects of violence on his only child’s mind and body, he is convinced that the mythical world of European football is the answer to his problems.  But will a man whose relationship with Africa is based on making money at any cost care about the horrors faced by the local people who benefit least from his lucrative deals?

The first months after he came back I spent every night at his bedside watching him, until one night the tiredness overpowered me and I fell asleep.  I woke up at midnight with my son’s arm around my neck, like this…  

And in my ear, very quietly, I heard in the darkness:  ‘Father, there’s no need for you to watch over me any more; in the jungle I learnt that there are no spirits.  Men live and die alone…’  ‘If that’s what you really believe,’ I said to him, ‘I want you to kill me, too.’  I begged him to do it.  So he started to grip my neck tighter and tighter until suddenly he let me go and lay back down in the bed.  

The next morning he came looking for me, he asked my forgiveness and promised me he’d never hurt anyone ever again.

This translation of Après moi le déluge was commissioned by the English Stage Company at the Royal Court Theatre.

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