In a Palestinian town eleven-year-old Lubna and twelve-year-old Khalil are playing on the empty stairwell in their apartment block. As the siege intensifies outside, fear for their safety becomes as crippling as the conflict itself.
Dalia Taha s play offers a new way of seeing how war fractures childhood. Fireworks (Al ab Nariya) is part of International Playwrights: A Genesis Foundation Project and received its world premiere at the Royal Court Theatre, London, on 12 February 2015.
Such a refreshing reminder of the lives of some people, and forces you to acknowledge your privilege and be more thoughtful about and aware of it. Themes that are strong and touching. The characters are unique yet normal.
"I don't know what to tell him, what to teach him. And right now right now right now when we're dying, when they're killing us just because they can when we're silent in front of our kids' questions, they’re on top of a hill watching the planes bombing us and cheering: They're cheering. An hour away from here they’re living. They're going on with their lives, they're not scared, they think they think they think they can do anything and nothing will happen to them. They're happy. They can put their children to bed and know they'll find them there in the morning. They can send their kids to school and know they won't have to come and pick them up in pieces."
‘You run that way and I'll run this way. Whoever gets back to the front door first without getting shot, wins.’
This is one of those pieces of literature that stays with you. ‘Fireworks’ is a play which tells the story of eleven-year-old Lubna and twelve-year-old Khalil - two Palestinian children who routinely play on the staircase in their apartment building. However, as the conflict and destruction continue outside, their safety is increasingly at risk. Dalia Taha presents the audience and readers with an observational view of how conflict fractures a child’s life. Lubna and Khalil are at the centre of the plot, and as the violence around them entraps them, the readers are forced to look at what is unfolding.
The dialogue is heart wrenching - you witness two children and their families as they fight to simply survive in a country where they cannot step outside of their house without the fear of being killed. You are forced, as readers, to sit there and acknowledge your privilege. When I was reading it, it made me increasingly aware of how lucky I am.
Not only do you get the perspectives of the children, but equally there are several perspectives from the parents - who spend every single day worried sick that they are going to wake up one day having lost their own child due to the conflict. This play taught me to appreciate the things I do have in life. The structure is so impactful, as you get the two perspectives intersecting and clashing as the conflict rages on outside their insulated community. Parents and children alike battle with the destruction and loss that war brings, and Taha manages to still focus a great deal on the power of Lubna and Khalil’s friendship. And on how wired the human brain is to survive, even when the town they have grown up in is being destroyed as they speak.