The Bone Sparrow

(stage version)

Zana Fraillon, S. Shakthidharan

• Publisher: Nick Hern Books
• Year: 2022
• Print ISBN:
  9781839040818
• eBook ISBN:
  9781788505697
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: British Drama
• Index: Literature

Subhi is a refugee. Born in an Australian permanent detention centre after his mother fled the violence of a distant homeland, life behind the fences is all he's ever known. Now his imagination is pushing at the limits of his world.

One day, Jimmie appears on the other side of the fence, bringing a notebook written by the mother she lost. Unable to read it, she relies on Subhi to unravel her own family's mysterious and moving history. Together, Subhi and Jimmie must find a way to freedom, and they must be braver than they've ever been before...

The Bone Sparrow, Zana Fraillon's powerful and deeply moving novel about the displacement and treatment of refugees and sanctuary seekers, has been widely read and studied around the world since its publication in 2017.

This enthralling stage adaptation by award-winning Australian playwright S. Shakthidharan was first produced on a UK tour in 2022 by Pilot Theatre with York Theatre Royal, Derby Theatre, Belgrade Theatre, Coventry, and Mercury Theatre Colchester.

Also included is a range of teaching materials and resources designed to help educators bring the play to life for their students.

Praise for the novel, The Bone Sparrow:

'With an affecting and distinctive narrative voice... [Zana Fraillon] builds a convincing and complete world. Moving and memorable, The Bone Sparrow deserves to be read by all who care about our common humanity' Guardian

'A heartrending tale about how our stories make us, and also an angry polemic, vividly convincing in its detailed description of what it means for your home to be a tent in the dust behind a guarded fence' Sunday Times

'This is a tragic, beautifully crafted and wonderful book whose chirpy, stoic hero shames us all' Independent

Winner of the Amnesty CILIP Honour Award

Shortlisted for the Carnegie Award and the Guardian Children's Fiction Prize

ACT ONE

Scene One

MAÁ’s tent.

MAÁ. / Grrrrrrrrrrrr –

DOCTOR. Just breathe. Breathe…

MAÁ is giving birth. A DOCTOR assists her. She continues to growl and yell as the labour progresses; the DOCTOR continues to placate her – pointlessly.

BEAVER stands guard.

BEAVER (into walkie-talkie). It’s happening now, mate. NAP-24. 24. You got that?

WALKIE-TALKIE (muffled). Copy. You said two hours –

BEAVER (into walkie-talkie). Yeah, it’s earlier than we thought. Much earlier –

WALKIE-TALKIE. – the ambulance is at least thirty minutes / away –

QUEENY (offstage, screaming). LET ME IN!

BEAVER (into walkie-talkie). We’ll have to do it here.

WALKIE-TALKIE. Copy. Report immediately afterwards.

BEAVER (into walkie-talkie). Copy.

DOCTOR. Okay – I can see the crown – / Push!

MAÁ. No! No!

DOCTOR. The baby wants to be in the world –

MAÁ. Not like this! / Not like this! No!

DOCTOR. / Push! Push!

QUEENY (offstage, screaming). LET ME IN!

MAÁ. He was supposed to be born free!

DOCTOR. / Push, goddammit –

BA enters, dressed in traditional Rohingya clothing. A figment of MAÁ’s imagination.

BA (Ruáingga). Itare zito de maa. [Let him go, Maá.]

MAÁ. No!

BA (Ruáingga). Itare zito de. [Let him go.]

MAÁ. You aren’t here yet. You don’t get to choose.

MAÁ talks over BA as he recites his poem.

BA. Life is an open prison We can see the sky and stars We can feel the breeze But we can never fly away The sky is the limit Yet we are the ground But I can still breathe the air of my motherland as it sweeps through the clouds One day we will grow wings and ride upon it.

MAÁ (Ruáingga). No matish! No matish! [Shut up. Shut up.] (Starts pushing.) Damn it. Damn it. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr –

As BA chants, MAÁ, still pissed off at BA, nevertheless begins to push.

DOCTOR. Good. Good! That’s it! / That’s it!

QUEENY (offstage, screaming). LET ME IN FOR GOD’S SAKE!

MAÁ gives birth to a baby boy. The DOCTOR immediately takes the baby, examines it.

DOCTOR. It’s a boy –

MAÁ. / Give him to me!

DOCTOR (to GUARDS). All okay so far.

MAÁ. / (shouting). Give him to me!

QUEENY (offstage, screaming). LET ME IN!

BEAVER (into walkie-talkie). Boss. Boss?

WALKIE-TALKIE. Yes?

BEAVER (into walkie-talkie). He’s arrived. So far so good.

WALKIE-TALKIE. Good. Ambulance should be there shortly.

The DOCTOR gives the baby to MAÁ.

BEAVER (into walkie-talkie). Copy that. (To the DOCTOR.) We need to go and file the paperwork for DAR-1. I’m going to let the girl in now, yeah?

DOCTOR. Understood. Yes. Then I need to come back and do some more checks.

BEAVER. I just need your signature on a few things.

DOCTOR (like he can’t believe it). DAR-1.

BEAVER. First baby born in the camp.

MAÁ (holding her baby tight). His. Name. Is. Subhan.

BEAVER. This way.

As BEAVER and the DOCTOR exit, BA exits also. MAÁ watches him go.

BEAVER lets QUEENY in on the way out; she runs to her mother.

QUEENY. Maá. Maá!

They embrace.

MAÁ. Futúni. Meet your baby brother. Subhan.

As QUEENY takes baby Subhi and gives him a kiss, older SUBHI enters and watches them.

QUEENY. Subhi. ‘Our dawn’?

MAÁ (nodding). Our dawn – someday, Queeny. Someday.

Scene Two

The same tent, on the same red dirt. A sea-blue, traditional Rohingya fabric is draped at the front.

The dead of night. Everyone in the camp is asleep, except SUBHI, who is drawing. He is now a young boy. MAÁ and QUEENY’s sweaty, prostrate bodies are beside him.

SUBHI draws the ocean. He draws feathers. The illustrations appears as hand-drawn animations, projected onto various parts of the set.

A few feathers fall from the sky like rain. The sound of the ocean.

SUBHI. Sometimes, at night, the dirt outside turns into a beautiful ocean. The Night Sea. As red as the sun and as deep as the sky.

He looks at his MAÁ.

Maá says there are some people in this world who can see all the hidden bits and pieces of the universe blown in on the north wind and scattered about in the shadows.

He looks at his sister.

Queeny, she never tries to look in the shadows. She doesn’t even squint. Maá sees, though. She can hear the ocean outside too.

He reaches back to MAÁ.

You hear it, Maá?

MAÁ responds, talking in her sleep –

MAÁ. Mhmmmmm…

As the feathers fall, the sound of a torrential downpour. There are whispers in the rain, whispers only SUBHI can hear. He walks out of his tent, guided by them.

Outside of the tent, rain falls onto him. His clothes are soaked.

SUBHI. Queeny says that when you swim deep down under the sea, you can watch all the fish and turtles and rays and sea

flowers as bright as bright, and that you can lie on your back and let the sea carry you and you don’t sink, not even a bit. The sea just lifts you up.

SUBHI sees something on the ground. A seashell. He picks it up.

BA enters, his mouth moving. The whispers are his. They are in Ruáingga. SUBHI can’t see him.

BA (whispering, Ruáingga). Phunish, aar hota phunish. [Listen. Listen.]

SUBHI. Ba?

BA slowly moves closer to SUBHI.

I’m gonna see the sea. Feel it. Taste it. The real sea, someday. When me and Maá and Queeny are free. And on that day, Ba will be waiting there for us. On the shore. Won’t you, Ba?

Scene Three

Lights change. There is no rain, no ocean, no feathers,...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title page
• Contents
• Introduction by S. Shakthidharan
• Original Production Details
• The Bone Sparrow
• Educational Resources, Exercises and Activities
• Principal Characters
• Context
• Workshops and Activities
• Resources and Links
• About the Authors
• Copyright and Performing Arts Information