Being Leah.

I am sitting here at my desk and my breathing is suspiciously controlled. The palm of my right hand is wet with the tears I wipe away. I am crying. Because I am back to being Leah, Leah B ... Leah Be Free ...

[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]

It is three weeks after the performance of Leah B, and her character still lurks in the dark depths of my mind. And when I am quiet and think of her, she takes me. Her story creeps into my cranium, and I sing the songs Leah sang when she wanted to console her hurt mind and comfort her bruised body.

The story of a beautiful young Namibian woman, who was caught for stealing a loaf of bread. She stole the bread because she was hungry. She was hungry because she was alone. She was alone--because the only person who took care of her, a British nun, died. And so Leah, the orphan--ended up in the Katutura police holding cells.

Leah was brutally raped on the day she was arrested for stealing the bread, by the policeman who arrested her. She falls pregnant. She is raped repeatedly on the days she is taken on shopping trips to buy neccessities for the other women in the same holding cell. They send Leah for shopping--even though she doesn't have any money--because she is the only one that the policeman, who supervises the trip, wants to take. Horror.

The audience had sweat pearls running down their foreheads while they were gawking at the rape scene on stage. They caught a glimpse of the policeman undoing his belt and dropping his pants. His eyes, big and hungry. 'Ek is jammer. Ek was honger,' Leah begged to be released. She would never steal again. But instead of letting her go ...

He pressed her down on a table, while she was forced to look at the bread she stole. It was placed right in front of her face, while her dress was lifted up. She tried to break free, but he was too strong. She pleaded. The audience heard her shout. They saw her cry. And lived in her world for a little while.

'Leah soek brood.'

Leah B is strong story with a massive message. How unfairness, poverty, prostitution, fraud, vulnerability and many more elements shape or rather break the lives of many, in this case women. As much as the play Leah B is about Leah, it is also about the other women in the same holding cell. Saartjie Kaartjie, Half-Jacky, Suzy the Prostitute, Lauren the Foreign and Moya Xoli. And they all portrayed their own tragic yet sometimes humorous stories.

Personally, to me Leah B is no story. It is a tragic truth, and yes, Tanya Terblanche, the writer, met a young woman called Leila and this is her story.

I feel honoured that I could be Leah, and tell her story. And I know that she is not in that holding cell anymore. And if by fate or any chance, she is reading this article, I would like to say this:

Leah, you have changed my life. I know now that none of my troubles will ever be as big as yours. So I can only be grateful. I hope that this play brought enough awareness to the unfairness in the system in order for changes to be made. And I also hope your story will never be forgotten.