Another Kind of Tisay

Leslie Lewis-Sword, 37, came to town for her cousin Laura’s wedding and saw the chance to mount the 151st performance of ‘Miracle in Rwanda’ in her mother’s Manila. This one-woman play lauded for “spellbinding intensity and undeniable grace" in New York runs in Makati’s Insular Life auditorium until July 22. Leslie’s collaborator, Edward Vilga, was right to call it a tour de force, with a lone Leslie playing ten roles in a tale of suffering and transcendence reaching deep into the heart. It’s already been shown in 17 cities, eight countries and five continents (the sixth will be Australia) and earned two nominations – an Audele award for best solo performance and an Amnesty International Freedom of Expression Award.

But with a heroine like Imaculeé Ilibagiza, who survived the 1994 Hutu massacre of a million of her Tutsi tribe (her whole family included), it’s been far more than theatre. Leslie was transfixed from the moment she heard Imaculeé recount the 91 days she spent with seven other women hiding from Hutu militias in the 3x5 ft. bathroom of a sympathetic Hutu pastor. A “transformative experience" began as Imaculeé’s words “pierced" her heart that day in New York: "While I was in that bathroom I decided to pray every moment of the day because when the killers would come to try to find us my mind would attack me. I felt as if the knives were already cutting into my body. “I did not know that my mind, my thoughts, could make pain in my body. So I thought that I must make sure that my thoughts are all good thoughts. So I prayed. I prayed the rosary. "You know, you say the Our Father and you say 'Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us'. I did not like that part. I could not say that part. How could I forgive these men? They were evil. They were killing. So I decided to go fast to skip over that part. "Yet, in the rosary you also meditate on the life of Jesus. When He was on the cross, He said, 'Forgive them for they know not what they do'. I realized that these men could not know the evil that they are doing. They are in hell already and I could not give my hatred to them. They are already in pain. So I forgave them and I felt so much lighter and so much better. I think that is what saved me." French-speaking Imaculeé also taught herself English while contorted for dear life in that bathroom, not daring to breathe as whooping Hutus came uncomfortably close. Leslie could not help trailing Imaculeé to a conference in New York then to her refuge in Uganda. Hooking up with a documentary crew, she got deeper and deeper to where it all happened. Now compelled “to be a part of telling the story," she continued meeting with Imaculeé in the Lewis homes in East Hampton and New York. Then she called the “genius" director Edward Vilga and listed key events in Imaculeé’s story. Together they sketched a dramatic structure, setting cues for the lights while leaving her free for improvised dialogue that made each performance “new and fresh every time." Leslie gave a glimpse of this organic process at the end of her first Manila performance, switching to yet another role with ease as she answered questions from the audience. Later she told me that she edited a script from the play’s video recording only after its 22nd performance. Leslie’s complete identification with Imaculeé’s inner story stunned the play’s Rwandan audience, roused the International Black Theatre Festival in North Carolina, galvanized a local team to mount a production in Peoria, Illinois, and enjoyed a sold-out show at the Edinburgh Festival in Scotland, with two performances a day for 17 days. Imaculeé is now “like a sister" who prays the rosary with Leslie. Meanwhile the artist remains clear about the essence of the whole experience. Imaculeé’s unceasing prayer was really a way “to focus her mind, choosing where to put that focus," says Leslie. That she arrived at forgiving the unforgivable demonstrates “how humanity can really work." Beyond giving a glimpse of the power of transcendence, each performance of ‘Miracle in Rwanda’ also raises funds for a Rwandan orphanage and one local charity. The oyster shell that produced a pearl for Rwanda could not be more fortunate for Leslie, who heard the call of theater as early as four, making it to Sesame Street at six. Later she earned a Liberal Arts degree cum laude at Harvard, on to a Masters degree in Fine Arts in UCLA, learning theatre as she wrote, sang and danced. The Canadian she married, Gavin Sword, is the kind of businessman who also works on micro-finance for poor countries like Rwanda. It was he who suggested that they adopt two kids orphaned by the massacre. Leslie also enjoys the full backing of her mom, the long-standing Fil-American civic leader Loida Nicolas, her daughter’s prime example of “graceful magnanimity." Embracing the less fortunate is a family tradition begun by her late dad, Reginald Lewis. This corporate lawyer who became the first Afro-American billionaire was also a philanthropist who supported art and endowed education on a grand scale. His gifted elder daughter must be doing him proud. ‘Miracle in Rwanda’ followed soon after ‘Yesterday Came Too Soon’ in Harlem’s Black Theatre, Leslie’s first critically acclaimed one-woman performance as the first black actress nominated for an Oscar, Dorothy Dandridge. Among Leslie’s film credits past and near future is the indie documentary on interracial love, “Taboo: The Controversy of Black/White 'Race Mixing' in America". She’s also authored the humorous book, “Waiter, There's A Fly In My Soup: How To Make Megabucks Waiting Tables" and a poetry volume, “Naked Heart." Meanwhile “Miracle in Rwanda" continues to be “a joy" to Leslie, who wants “people to come away with a sense that we can all forgive." Will this African-American-Pinay, who gives the Filipino word “tisay" a new color, also help Filipinos dispel their own unspoken prejudice with a new eye for black beauty? - GMANews.TV