This play was first produced as Waiting in association with Metta Theatre Company at the Purcell Room at the Southbank Centre, London, on 12 March 2010. The production text of Waiting was a modified version of the original The Meaning of Waiting and was communicated through speech and song.
Victoria Brittain has used verbatim text from interviews with women whose husbands have been ‘detained’ as terrorist suspects. They come from a variety of places (Palestine, Senegal, Jordan, Libya as well as England) but they are united by the terrifying wait for their men. SABAH is a Palestinian from Jordan, who moved to Pakistan with her husband. The couple fled to England as refugees where SABAH’s husband was taken by the Americans to Guantanamo. Although he was cleared of his charges, SABAH is still waiting for him at the end of the play. She has calculated his incarceration at 2,800 days. A final voiceover tells the audience that he was returned to Britain in 2007.
One time my solicitor brought me a report about Guantanamo from the Tipton people. It was so bad what they said about my husband’s health, and about what happen inside there. What Americans do to men... I cant bear it, but I cant show anything in front of the children. I go to sit in the park where the children run and don’t see my face. I cant tell my mother, I don’t want her to worry, though sometimes she hears from my voice.
I have to be so careful for everyone, the children, my Mum, my husband, his family. Never say a negative word, never show what I feel.
I tell him in my letters, don’t worry, the children are good, they do well in school, the littlest ones are funny, I’m fine. Your wife is still patient, you’ll be strong too. I want to push him, be strong, Allah will help you with this test.
Inside I’m crying. I tell myself, don’t be sad, it’s stupid, you have only one life, don’t throw it away in sadness.
I can only pray. I know Allah is doing this test for me, for him, for a reason.
I read Koran, and read, and pray for strength.
One time the lawyers arranged permission so I could speak to my husband on the telephone after all these years….. There no words for the emotion when I heard his voice…..
…
Afterwards I went home to the children and I told them, Dad is fine, don’t worry, he’ll come soon, he kisses you all, he knows you are good children. You’ll see him soon.
Then in the mosque for Eid, people kept coming to me and hugging me, saying how good for the telephone call with your husband. They were kind and happy for me…
But no one knows except Allah what is happening for me, what is in my heart.