Judith Adams - Playwright & Dramatist

"Judith Adams' script is dense as thick, black treacle but has the lightest of touches, melding myth and poetry with the everyday..." Lyn Gardner, The Guardian

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Whitestone Arts Research Centre

Creative Workshop Space, West Yorkshire

Adapted 17th Century Pennine longhouse

www.whitestonearts.co.uk
info@whitestonearts.co.uk
+44 (0)1535 644644

from Episode 5: The Giraffes Go To Hamburg

F/X: BEETHOVEN FADES, AND A KIKUYU BOY SINGING FADES UP SOFTLY, DURING:

KAREN

On my farm in Africa, it happened often in the early morning that a very small herdboy would come into the dining room all by himself, stand for a long time in front of the cuckoo clock, its bird still shut away and silent, and address it in Kikuyu in a slow, sing-song declaration of love, then gravely walk out again.

And I wonder now: If I, too, know a song of Africa - of the giraffe, and the African new moon lying on her back, of the oxen ploughing her fields and the dark, laughing faces of my Totos as the bird leaps – will Africa know a song of me? Will the air over the plain quiver with a colour I had on, or the children invent a game in which my name is, or the full moon throw a shadow over the gravel of the drive that is like me? Will the lions of Ngong, then, watch over me?