Act 1, Scene 1

                          ACT I SCENE 1

INT. MR. STEPHEN'S HOUSE - NIGHT.

A dilapidated two-room house; light halos a clock hanging on one battered wall. If it weren’t for the perfectly ticking clock, it would seem that the house was abandoned. But one funny thing about the owner of the house is that he refused to build a fabulous house, choosing to spend his meager earnings on education instead. Light glints in the same room again, revealing an emblem captioned: NEW LEVEL OF GLORY. The motto seems at odds with the deplorable condition of the house. An ancient black-and-white television, a pair of shoes, a five-inch foam slab covered with a torn bedsheet, an old AM radio made in the 1950s and other antiquated items are visible. Immense care seems to have been put into the stunning flowers planted by the home owner, but the nature of the building creates a stark juxtaposition to the elegant blooms. As the flowers are maintained and the compound kept neat, one might easily conclude that the home-owner is either poor or rich— it’s hard to tell which. Light shines again on the clock, whose face is cracked. It is 11:30 p.m., and the home’s occupants are, presumably, sleeping.

MR.STEPHEN, an average man of 58 years, tall and handsome, appears. Educated at Government Secondary School, Zigma in Riv-Land, he has attended other schools and gained other qualifications that ginger him to search for a job. His wife, MRS. STEPHEN, is not educated, but is beautiful; poverty could not strip her of that. She is in her fifties.

MR. STEPHEN points around his home.

MR. STEPHEN

My wife, I'm tired of living in poverty! Look at our house, a symbol of poverty! But if we train our son, give him the best education that we can, perhaps that will change our fortune. Once he graduates from a university, I know that after all our suffering, he'll look after us in our old age and bring joy to our family! Isn’t it better to be educated than be illiterate and remain poor forever?

The linguistic environment MRS. STEPHEN is exposed to has helped her learn to speak acceptable English, enriched with local proverbs.

MRS. STEPHEN

That is a nice suggestion, dear. But he who sits under a tree knows very well the strength of the wind. Learned people are my true companions. Think of my friend: she graduated seven years ago and still has no job! I'd rather like our son learn some trade, train as a mechanic, or undergo vocational training. Education is truly the best, but in our country, if you don’t have connections at some company or another, then you'll know that twenty bu ogu.

     MR. STEPHEN 

My dear, there is no way a chimpanzee does with its head that a monkey cannot do! If we are determined to train our only child, a better story will be told in the future—

     MRS. STEPHEN 

Did your father leave a job for you before he died? Do you have a job ready and waiting for your son? What use is there spending what little money you earn to send our child to university and then, after everything, have him find no job? It is better to get him established in a job that makes a little money. He can enrol for adult education later.

     MR. STEPHEN 

God willing, all things are possible.

     MRS. STEPHEN

I know that education is vital to life— the bedrock of any nation. But we ought to think of something else that will invest money into our family. You remember EMEZU? The son of NWANJI? He studied Mass Communication, and yet, no job! Also, I have two friends who spent years to get university degrees, and after all that work and money, neither found work in their field. The universe most certainly always has other plans for us, doesn't it?

      MR.STEPHEN

EMEZU and your friends still have opportunities— they could contest the presidential election or work at the national oil company. A man's illiteracy cannot elevate him to a prominent position unless he's favoured by the providence of the benevolent God. My son will further his studies despite the financial constraints on our family.

     MRS. STEPHEN

A man should cut his cloth according to his size. How would our family cope with the burden of a child in school? Do you know when I last bought cloth? I can't wear wrappers like a married woman, nor do I buy medicated soaps and perfumes like I used to, when I was living under the roof of my father's hut.

Tears roll down her cheeks. MR. STEPHEN consoles her.

MR. STEPHEN

Don't worry, the Provider is always with us.

            LIGHT GRADUALLY FADES OUT.