The playwright Naziha Jones takes the semi-autobiographical role of Darlee, imbuing the words with the authenticity and disarming honesty of an Iraqi voice. She deftly inhabits the younger Darlee with a mix of innocence (she imagines Iraq’s night sky being full of fireworks going pop pop pop) and the growing realisation of her world (trying to understand her Dad’s phone call to an Iraqi friend in London after watching Operation Dessert Storm on the news, the Young Qareen observes that Darlee understands the “fear slipping through the receiver, oozing out of Dad’s eyeballs” even if she doesn’t understand the language he’s speaking).
In the darker second half, as the older Darlee, struggling with commodifying the pain of her heritage, breaks out of a university interview for a powerful excoriating monologue addressing the repeated casual questioning of whether her family are “safe” and what she thinks of Saddam. Her extended polemic against the “bureaucratisation of evil”, where 13-years of UN sanctions eliminated science education in Iraq beyond secondary school level, blocked chemicals to treat water and sewage as were vaccines to treat children, is a powerful reminder that this isn’t something that has gone away. The actor’s searing passion delineating her raw trauma brought many of the audience understandably to tears.