Powerful tale of Somali woman’s battle for asylum

introduces us to a woman from Somalia — Asha. Her name means Hope. Her character is based on interviews with female Somali refugees.

Stuart Marshall’s simple set — a wall covered in papers from the Home Office and the Department of Social Protection, as well as excerpts from the International Protection Act, illustrates the bureaucratic journey that Asha faces after fleeing her home in Mogadishu. Al Shabaab fighters had killed her brother and threatened her family. She left behind her eight children, parents and grandfather. Her story unfolds in a space surrounded by steel containers. Their cargo, too, has travelled many miles before arriving in Belfast.

Raquel McKee plays Asha — an ordinary woman who was raped by soldiers; gave her savings to a smuggler who promised her he’d take her to America, then stole her papers. No longer in control of her life, she is dependent on the kindess of strangers.

This simple but powerful drama explores the asylum industry, where the future is determined by interpretors, and hope is dashed in transit.

Julie Maxwell and Tony Flynn play the officials who test Asha’s story: what did she eat in Mogadishu? What music did she listen to? Can she describe the streets, count the mosques?

At the back of the stage, a clock indicates the hours, months and years that Asha spends fighting for asylum and her children. It ticks on for more than 10 years. Her children grow up without her.

‘I didn’t choose to come here,’ says Asha. ‘I could only choose to die or be killed. What would you do?’

How many lives lost in translation? How many Ashas?

GRANIA McFADDEN