DOING THE DIRTY WORK TO CLEAN UP AFTER BIG BAD GUYS

By Margaretta wa Gacheru The Three Washkateers is a generous mix of lyrical poetry and violent prose which was staged early this month at Kenya Cultural Centre. It’s also a satire on Kenya’s contemporary cultural and political climate which includes a big chunk of supercharged chaos and corruption taken to its logical extreme. Scripted by Ted Munene and Sheldon Owinya, the Millaz production fulfills one of the group’s founder’s goals when he launched the troupe some years ago. “I wanted young people who’d grown up loving theatre in school have somewhere to go once they’d graduated,” Xavier Nato once told BDLife. That place is Millaz. Both Munene and Owinya are in their twenties as are many in the cast and crew. The title itself is a take-off from the 19th century novel, The Three Musketeers. Those three were ‘swashbuckling heroes’ unlike the three washketeers whose headquarters is in the basement toilet area of a local hospital where cleaning supplies are normally kept. But these cleaners, Denise (Red Brenda), Joe (Samuel Baraza), and William (Mike Ndako) are of a different kind. They get called in by the most unscrupulous, contemptible characters, namely crooks, killers, and swashbuckling hustlers who require experts to clear up any mess that they have made. It’s usually a messy killing or assassination. Their task is simply to get the job done, by any means necessary. It’s to clean and sanitize the corridors of power so that none will be the wiser. The latest task of the cleaners is from the government Minister (Ken Aswani), to get rid of the remains of a dead sports celebrity named Lightning (Vivian Nyawira) who has gone missing after having a falling out with her patron, the CS. Her ‘corpse’ is wrapped up and all set to go when the cleaners arrive. The problem is, she isn’t really dead. She hadn’t posed a problem while the three assumed she was dead. Even when a guard (Brian Gaiton) arrives to find out what they are doing in the CS’s office so late at night, it’s suspenseful momentarily, but the three manage to distract him, and then give him a few shillings to go away, which he does. Following an incessant debate between money over humanity or humanity over money, the trio agreed to let Lightning live. But while they try to get her safely out of a 7th story window, their makeshift rope breaks, and she falls to her ‘death’. But again, she doesn’t die; she rises again to come for the Minister, gun in hand. He manages to knock her out, and again, she is presumed dead. But the final time she shows up at his office, the CS is being taped incriminating himself in the presence of the cleaners who have come for their money. My only problem with The Three Washketeers is the ending. It is inconclusive and ends without a bang or clear conclusion other than the status quo will prevail. That is illustrated in the very last short, shadowy scene. But what happened to Lightning? Do we presume the Washketeers got paid for cleaning up her case in the end? But what happened with the tape recording and the journalist who asked salient questions and got the Minister incriminating himself on tape? Are we to presume that even he, representing the Media, also fell into the unethical trap of feeding off the Minister’s money tree? Clearly, too many loose ends are left unresolved. I hope that can be rectified since the remainder of the show was fresh and combined drama and comedy effectively. The introduction is a bit oblique, but thankfully it wasn’t a curtain-raiser. The dancer (Maulid Owino) who opens the show, moved with grace and silent purpose. One felt he is an integral part of the story, and that is reinforced by a beautiful a cappella chorus of Millaz members who, though invisible throughout the show, added a captivating presence to the performance. What also enhanced the production were the set designs by Allan Otieno and Gitau. It’s not easy to create a set that covers the length and depth of the National Theatre stage. But they did it, not only in the Washketeers’ toilet HQ, but in the Minister’s office as well. And even costuming was thoughtfully included in the director’s considerations. The sound was also clear, except when the broadcaster’s (Saumu Kombo) microphone didn’t seem to be on as she told the critical story meant to set up the opening scene. If you could hear, that’s exactly what she did in a relaxed and newsy way.