Habibti Driver (NHB Modern Plays)

Shamia Chalabi, Sarah Henley

• Éditeur: Nick Hern Books
• Année: 2022
• ISBN:
  9781788505727
• Sujet: Literature
• Sous-sujet: British Drama

Meet Ashraf and his 'Habibti' – his daughter Shazia. He's an Egyptian, Muslim taxi driver; she's half-Egyptian, half-Wiganese, and more interested in the last call at the bar than the call to prayer.

Their relationship is put to the test when Ashraf introduces Shazia to his new Egyptian bride, whilst she is attempting to break the news of her own secret engagement. In Ashraf's taxi they must navigate driving lessons, sing karaoke and explore whether, despite their differences, family can win out regardless.

Habibti Driver is a heartwarming and hilarious play, based on Shamia Chalabi's real-life experiences and co-written with Sarah Henley, exploring the clashes, compromises and comedy that come with living in a mixed-culture family in today's Britain.

First performed in an earlier version – Burkas and Bacon Butties – at the VAULT Festival, London, this revised, full-length version premiered at the Octagon Theatre Bolton in April 2022, co-produced with Tara Finney Productions.

Scene One

We see an empty cab with the hazard lights on, Arabic music blaring out. There are fragrance trees hanging off the mirror along with some ‘99 names of Allah’ prayer beads. There’s a plastic bag with Arabic writing on it on the passenger seat and a few empty mugs littered around the cab. The radio crackles.

YUSUF. Driver 1154, can I have your location?

Pause.

1154 please come in, can I have your location?

Pause.

ASHRAF, COME IN, MAN! I’ve got a job for you!

ASHRAF rushes back to the car, hands full with coffee, a pie, some Hula Hoops and a cigarette. He spills the coffee on himself as he gets into the car and presses the receiver.

ASHRAF. Shit! Shit! Yes I’m here!

YUSUF. You can’t be taking these liberties! Let me guess, picking up snacks?

ASHRAF. No, no, nothing like that.

YUSUF. Coffee then?

ASHRAF. Excuse me but I am professional – no stopping while working, brother, okay? You still on that diet?

YUSUF. You know Hafifah – she’s tap-tap-tap in my head – lose weight, stop smoking, this, that. But Alhamdulillah I feel good! You should try it too!

ASHRAF. Yusuf, I have already a wife and a daughter – there is no more space for a nagging-horse brother –

YUSUF. I’m right though – you’ll be getting the diabetes soon… you should be thanking me for the reminder –

ASHRAF. Thanking you?! Oh yes! Big welcome home, Ashraf, isn’t it? ‘No snack breaks’… ‘diabetes knock knocking on your door’… anything else? Am I breathing too loudly? Want me to iron my underpants some more? As my loving brother, you should be asking me how Egypt was.

Pause.

YUSUF. How was Egypt?

ASHRAF relaxes into the conversation, putting a single Hula Hoop on each forkful of pie and then adding some of his ‘special sauce’ from a bottle in the cup holder.

ASHRAF. Fantastic, man, good food, relaxation – no stress.

YUSUF. And Mama?

ASHRAF. You know, relieved…

YUSUF. Of course! Yasmin! Finally. Look – after shift come to the café with us? We go have some tea, talk –

ASHRAF. Sounds good – what time? I’m picking Shazia up.

A beat.

YUSUF. I saw Shazia in Makinson’s Arcade the other day. Brother – when’s she gonna start –

ASHRAF. I’m working on it.

YUSUF. She was with someone – a man.

ASHRAF. Probably a work colleague.

YUSUF. She was holding his hand. (A beat.) You should talk to her, get her to –

ASHRAF. I am, I am.

YUSUF. For the community, Ashraf – we can’t have this. You can’t allow it.

ASHRAF. Anyway – didn’t you say there was a job?

YUSUF. Shit! The pick-up – I forgot – Millstone at the top of Wigan Lane –

ASHRAF takes another forkful of pie with a Hula Hoop on it and crunches down.

ASHRAF. On my way!

YUSUF. You are eating!

ASHRAF. Outrageous!

YUSUF. I can see your location. You’re at Galloways?!

ASHRAF. You got me! The best pies in Wigan –

YUSUF. Aah –

ASHRAF. – spiced it up with some of my special sauce!

YUSUF. Bring me one, brother?

ASHRAF. Sorry… it’s impossible.

YUSUF. Why?

ASHRAF. Your wife would kill me.

ASHRAF hits the button to hang up the radio.

YUSUF. Fine… but remember Shazia, okay, brother… brother?

Scene Two

Later that day. ASHRAF is waiting in the car, smoking. He’s slicking down what little hair he has with a brush, checking his teeth – trying to floss with a taxi receipt. He puts out the cigarette and tries to waft the smoke out. He then sprays some Joop from his bag of duty-free around the car.

SHAZIA arrives and takes her engagement ring off, moving it to another finger. She opens the door to get in and ASHRAF moves the plastic bag on the seat to his lap.

ASHRAF. Hello, baby! Just some shells there – sorry. What, no hug?

He tries to hug her but she’s rigid.

Shaz –

SHAZIA. You said you’d be gone a month.

I thought something had happened.

ASHRAF. Like what? I got stuck in the pyramids? I became a mummy? Got eaten by a camel?

SHAZIA. Not funny.

Didn’t you even want to know how I was?

ASHRAF. Habibti – it was busy, and…

SHAZIA. Right.

Pause.

I was really worried –

ASHRAF. I brought you a present.

He passes her the bag with Arabic writing on.

SHAZIA. You think you can buy forgiveness, is that it? Is it jewellery?

ASHRAF. I’m a taxi driver – not a millionaire!

SHAZIA. Or perfume? I see you bought yourself some Joop. Nuts?!

ASHRAF. Special five-star gold-standard the best of bee’s knees Egyptian nuts –

SHAZIA. Wait… that you’ve clearly opened and started eating!

ASHRAF. I got a bit hungry… it’s the thought that counts, habibti!

SHAZIA. Thanks.

ASHRAF. In Arabic?

SHAZIA. Shukran.

ASHRAF turns the radio on. Whitney Houston, ‘I Wanna Dance with Somebody’ plays. ASHRAF sings and SHAZIA joins in. The radio starts to crackle and YUSUF’s voice can be heard talking to another driver. ASHRAF switches the taxi radio off and turns Whitney down.

Dad… I need to tell you something and –

ASHRAF. Yusuf saw you the other day.

SHAZIA. Where? I didn’t see him – why didn’t he say hi?

ASHRAF. In Makinson’s Arcade… he said you were with a man – holding hands.

SHAZIA. Oh.

Silence.

ASHRAF. Have you thought about the headscarf thing? Please. For me, habibti.

A beat. ASHRAF fumbles around in his door and pulls out a piece of paper, he hands it to SHAZIA.

SHAZIA (reading). Spicy sauce name ideas: ‘Sauce and Spice and All Things Nice’, ‘Kiss My Sauce’, ‘Wigan Spice’, ‘Ashraf’s Special Sauce’.

ASHRAF. It’s good innit?

SHAZIA. You definitely can’t use the last one.

ASHRAF. Why? It does what it says on the tin? If Birdseye Captain can sell his fishy fingers then I can have my special sauce.

SHAZIA. Fish fingers.

ASHRAF. I’ve been working on some new flavours, and it’s ‘mwaah’. I’m going...