The Women of Llanrumney by Azuka Oforka - ★★★★☆
By 2025, there should be nothing more for us to learn about the horrors and depravity of the transatlantic slave trade. There are countless films, books, plays and documentations of the accounts of enslaved people and their plight, yet watching The Women of Llarummey, I still find myself in a state of disbelief watching Azuka Oforka’s characters breathe life into the imagined women of the real Llanrumney plantation.
Inspired by a visit to Llanrumney Hall in Cardiff and the alleged birthplace of Captain Morgan (yes, the rum), Oforka realised there was no acknowledgement of the brutalities that came with Morgan’s legacy, and she therefore sought to give a voice to the women of Llanrumney, and shine a light on the involvement of Wales in British colonial history, a role that is seldom spoken about. Biting and compelling, The Women of Llarumney explores the lives of the women who, “benefited from it, those who were brutalised by it and those who sought to destroy it”.
The play does not ease us into its plot, we’re placed immediately into the extravagant abode of Elisabeth Morgan, home to Annie (Suzanne Packer), Elisabeth’s housekeeper, and Cerys (Shvorne Marks) who Annie is training. Dressed in blue and white maid uniforms, Annie stands with her chin high and her back straight, fussing and stressing over Cerys, heavily pregnant, and carrying herself with equal amounts of pride but for very different reasons.
We learn that Cerys had been working in the fields, but after selling her last housegirl, was brought into to work alongside Annie by Elisabeth. Polar opposites, Annie is the vision of a dutiful housekeeper, while Cerys, on the other hand, shares none of her enthusiasm and is instead more concerned with the brewing rebellion that is underway and trying to understand why Annie refuses to acknowledge that she is her mother.
To round off the trio of the women of Llarumney, we meet Elisabeth Morgan (Nia Roberts), the owner of the infamous Llarumney plantation known for its quality sugar cane. A self-absorbed lover of debauchery, Elisabeth’s only concern is being rich and staying rich, so when she hears news that her sugar cane crops have failed due to her negligence, and she will be forced to sell her estate she is thrown into complete disarray.
The Women of Llarumney portrays life on a plantation in a way that feels honest, but also chilling. Roberts as Elisabeth flounces around the stage, talking to Annie about how she is going to save her livelihood, and it feels like we are watching a scandalous period drama about a whimsical bachelorette. When Annie and Cerys have the stage, detailing graphic accounts of inhumane cruelty and wickedness, you remember that these are not two different plays, or two separate timelines, and it is harrowing.
Marks and Packer are excellent as Annie and Cerys. Both women seek freedom, but while Annie finds salvation through self-preservation and acceptance, Cerys understands that true freedom cannot be granted with a 'piece of paper’. Instead she chooses to join arms with the other slaves to claim freedom by force. As mother and daughter, while there is tension for most of the play, and reluctance from Annie to let herself love Cerys, this thaws at the end of the play, and while bittersweet it is affirming to see Annie embrace Cerys in her own way. The play ends with the start of the rebellion, and feels like a hopeful but bittersweet end to their story.
Matthew Gravelle expertly portrays the three men that Elisabeth finds herself at the mercy of in her attempts to save Llanrumney. Her relationship with each provides some nuance to Elisabeth as while she is a slave owner, she is still a woman and falls victim to the rampant misogyny of the time. You can only sympathise with her so much however, when confronted again with her position.
Stella-Jane Odoemelam’s set is beautiful, and truly immerses us in the grandeur of the Morgan residence, that Annie and Cerys exist on the peripheries of.
Oforka’s script is sharp, prosaic and does not shy away from the atrocities of life on a plantation. With that said, there is something to be said about the depiction of slavery in art as a whole.
There are moments that draw laughs from the audience, and while understandable it feels uncomfortable knowing the heaviness subject matter. In an article for the New Yorker, Richard Brody rightfully raises the question about whether or not dramatising historical events like the transatlantic slave trade runs the risk of trivialising the the realities of it, and this feels somewhat apparent when watching The Women of Llanrumney, despite this clearly not being Oforka’s intention. It is an ongoing debate, and this does not take away from the importance of this story, or the quality of the play but it is one that comes to mind for me.
In summary, Oforka’s play is haunting, but powerful and beautifully written with complex and well-rounded characters and performances. Patricia Logue directs a play that is captivating and thought-provoking, a watch I won’t be forgetting quickly.
By Melody Adebisi
★★★★☆
The Women of Llanrumney is showing at Stratford East until Saturday 12 April.