Dulaang UP’s ‘Nanay Bangis’ highlights a Filipino mother’s sufferance in the midst of war

According to historical records and reports, many Mindanaoan men were recruited to the Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) and to the so-called “local self-defense forces”, whose objective was to neutralise Communists. These extremist groups operating under the military were “fanatical religious sects” and armed vigilante groups that local and international news agencies reported to have made killings—primarily Muslims—barbarically at the height of the Martial Law period.

The conflict in what was dubbed the ‘Promised Land’ stems from the people’s struggle to establish the Autonomous Region of Muslim Mindanao, which was the objective of the 1976 Tripoli Agreement signed by the Moro National Liberation Front leader Nur Misuari and the Philippine government represented by Carmelo Barbero in Libya. The ironic situation of the citizens striving for peace but being terrorised also in the name of peace ensued for decades and brought upon the deepening conflict between faith beliefs, clans, estates and select people holding power locally and nationally.

In the middle of all this is Nanay Bangis, who hopes to give her children a better future while keeping her faith that the war will end soon.

In his essay, The Star Also Suffers: Screening Nora Aunor, Patrick Flores used the cinematic body of work of the Philippine entertainment superstar as a case study to “redeem suffering as a strategic emotional gesture”. 

“The politics of sacrifice poaches on the labour the heroine is made to undertake as part of a system of roles she has to perform in society. The sacrifice entailed, therefore, is connected to the onus the woman bears,” Flores says. Using this framework in reading Nanay Bangis allows us to see through the protagonist’s “sufferance”, or how she bears and endures pain through hidden tears, smiles, optimism, bargaining with her children to not let them be strayed, showing pride and joy in what they do, and haggling with her buyers, with the hopes of earning money from the war and that her children will come home soon.

Seeing Nanay Bangis’s cart as the object of bargain and blackmail in some pivotal points of the play while she keeps holding onto it, for it is the only legacy she can pass down to her children, becomes an object of solidarity for the audience.

“At the heart of this sacrifice is an aspiration for social justice, a moral vision of a more humane future. Sacrifice is seen as a necessary element in the possibility of such aspiration and is set into motion by the aesthetic of betrayal and epiphany,” Flores continues.

Aside from the cart, many objects throughout the play help visualise the play’s narrative allegorically. Perhaps the most striking is the crescent moon backdrop with its Maranao-inspired swirl patterns that resonate with the Islamic faith. Beside it is a ladder, which Christine climbs onto to clang the bell and warn the townspeople of the horror happening in the house that fostered her and her mother.

The struggle of the Muslim people and the rest of the Mindanaoans—regardless of faith and regional backgrounds—caught in the war continues to make peace elusive up to this day. Nanay Bangis clearly shows the factors at play for the war’s continuity and how it traumatically affects future generations. But as Christine—a person with a disability and facial scars from the abuse of men—bolstered her way up the ladder while the crescent moon shines, Nanay Bangis highlights how bravery is found from within.

With the repercussions of her decisions leading to her family’s gradual downfall, we see as the play progresses how Nanay Bangis copes with the pain and loss over and over again, picks herself up, and deals with life again with new strategies.

“Different people deal with traumas from war differently,” says Villamil. “In the play, you would see how people from various walks of life affected by the war react differently. The character of Nanay Bangis has grassroots survival instincts, while some just succumb to the pain. With this play, we hope the audience will understand the importance of knowing the state of each person affected by the war, no matter how comfortable we live our lives. War is happening everywhere at different levels of intensity, not just in the Philippines,” she continues.

One of the striking elements of the production is the orchestra, which not only paints each scene with poignant music and accompanies the actors in their song numbers but also uses foley to provide sound effects in important scenes. The booming sound of a large water drum echoes throughout Ignacio B Gimenez-Kolehiyo ng Arte at Literatura (IBG-KAL) Theater like missiles being dropped from afar. Metal ice buckets tapped rapidly, sounding like the rattling cacophony of rifles. 

“And that was really how war sounds like,” Dr Karina Marie Vera Aguilar from Doctors Without Borders, an organisation of medical professionals providing urgent life-saving medical aid to people in war-torn areas, shares during the panel discussion after the play’s preview. 

“You don’t really hear the sound. You feel it. The shockwaves are actually the first thing you feel before you hear the sound,” Aguilar describes.

“But yes, even in times of war, you would see people laughing. Some can even bake a cake,” she recalls with disbelief. “The most vulnerable people during wars are the women. The highest number of surgeries made in these times are caesarian sections for women in labour because they are unable to deliver normally. Also, the problem with wars is that everybody is so focused on the trauma. But in the midst of that, you would see humour. You will see joy. And you know the ones taking care of the wounded? They are victims of war as well.”

Nanay Bangis is amusing because of its comic reliefs, witty references, song numbers, and Dulaang UP’s application of the Brechtian theatre approach called Verfremdungseffekt or ‘alienation effect’. This approach combats emotional manipulation in the theatre, replacing poignant moments with entertaining or surprising jolts. Actors emotionally step away, with some actors seen walking at the sides, passively watching the play as it continues and interrupting it to narrate the events happening.

There is an explicit breaking of the fourth wall, allowing the audiences to be involved with the production rather than the emotional continuity of the story, thus seeing the show as a ‘show’ and nothing more. However, with the ‘social gest’ technique, the actors expose unjust social power relationships, and the audience sees these dynamics from a new perspective. ‘Social gest’ are exaggerated gestures or actions not to be taken literally, yet they provoke conversation on pressing issues such as social injustice and power imbalance.

To fully engage and educate the audience, the production also uses the ‘Living Newspaper’ technique to state the factual dates and events that add context and clarify the setting of each scene.

Outside the blackbox theatre, the corridors are filled with educational posters that contextualise and explain Brechtian theatre to the audience and the events from the 1970s to 1980s in Mindanao. Vera explained during the panel discussion that when he wrote the Filipino adaptation of Mother Courage, he had to use some events and rearrange them anachronistically to fit Brecht’s thematic arrangement of his scenes. Thus, the educational materials on the corridor provide a better understanding of the play and its universal resonance with other parts of the world where similar wars exist.

Moreover, a concessionaire selling snacks for the audience is managed by Little Gaza, a group of Palestinian and Palestinian-Filipino refugees who evacuated from Gaza amidst the war. Based in Brgy Holy Spirit, Quezon City, they sell Palestinian home-cooked meals as a business.

“We hope that the audience be politically aware through this production,” says Go. “I hope the Filipino audience will gain more insights into Mindanao's Muslim struggle. It is fair to say that it is peaceful now in Mindanao, but I feel that a small percentage of the population here in Luzon truly understands the struggle, the source of it, what happened, and why it continues. A lot of people ostracise our Muslim brothers with the prejudice that they are terrorists. So I hope, with this production, the audience gets at least an awareness of the issue and a balanced perspective towards the Muslim people,” he says.

Nanay Bangis runs until December 1 at the IBG-KAL Theater in the University of the Philippines Diliman campus

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