In this introspective monologue, writer and director Dieudonné Niangouna questions theatre, exile, and his place as an artist caught between two worlds. 

Photo © Sean Hart

Dido lurks in the depths of his bar, of his exile, and his ruined theatre. He debates frankly with his ghosts on issues of legitimacy, giving way or taking your place, on the art of bringing misunderstandings into the open, putting the ball back into play, and, of course, looking at things de ce côté…, from this other side, from his side. Time unravels in the café-theatre, memories bleed, characters have the strange habit of speaking before introducing themselves. These are the words of an actor. An actor inhabited by characters who require him to return to the stage to deliver them up to the world and express his turmoil with absolute truthfulness. The words of an exiled actor. Dido left his country mid-performance following a terrorist bomb attack. No one has ever truly identified those reponsible. Even so, Dido was named public enemy. His speeches against the ruling regime and his support of activist theatre meant that he had no choice but to go, leaving his audience in agony and his family in distress. His guilt haunts him relentlessly. His demons followed him into exile, even forcing him to leave the stage. Meanwhile African activists harass him constantly in the name of the values of black communitarianism. Clashes and tumults between old brothers-in-theatre accompany interminable evenings in the bar he bought on credit to peddle repeated stand-up shows. Until one day a director knocks on his door and offers him the leading role in his next show. It is a dream opportunity for Dido to confront his demons, bury his dead, and return to the stage with a new vision for activist theatre.