This two-hander is written to be performed on 27 September 2026 in front of the White House just after 3 000 white crosses have been planted. The play is dedicated to Donald Trump, the great leader who inspired this. This is a work of fiction, and any reference to real events, as reported in the untrustworthy media, should be understood as a hoax.
Setting:
Customs in an unknown airport in the USA
Players:
A white customs official – please let him be white
A white Afrikaner – he must definitely be white; this is non-negotiable
Text:
Official: Next?
Afrikaner: (Rushing onto the stage, four passports and a folder with papers in one hand) Jirre, boet, hoe bly is ek nie om jou uit te kom nie! Thanks, hey. Thanks for calling. I was getting worried. Your line is getting darker and darker, hey.
Official: (Takes the passports) Welcome to America, sir. Your first time?
Afrikaner: Nee, man – I mean, no, man. No, we are back. Back to civilisation. Back to a place with a strong white leader. Back to the land where someone still understands the importance of values.
Official: (Nods, carefully opening up all four passports) So, there are four of you, sir?
Afrikaner: Ja, swaer. They are just there. Sitting there. (Points in the direction where he came from) That’s my wife, and those little angels are mine, too. They had a rough night on the plane, and the wife is a bit moeg, hey. Ek is lucky. I gooi a dop, and then I can sleep on a tractor. But the wife had to go to the toilet and all these things wives do, hey.
Official: (Slowly paging through the passports and starting to look into the folder with papers) Sir, it says here that you have refugee status?
Afrikaner: Yes! Finally! Your leader understands us. We are killed left, right and centre, hey. Well, left and centre, I guess – hey, that’s a joke, okay. Us okes on the right know mos not to kill one another.
Official: Sir, from what I can gather, you were in the USA for just over a month, then you flew back to South Africa, stayed there for three weeks and now you are back in the United States?
Afrikaner: Yes! We are back. And I am going to Washington, where the real Afrikaners are planting crosses on the grass in front of Trump’s house. Trump said they can. Show the world the devastation of the Afrikaner. I have a Vierkleur with me, en die ou vlag. Brought it back for the occasion. We had to hide in our safe with the cash, but I said to my brother – I said: Boet, gee vir my. Ek gaan hulle rondswaai in die land waar Afrikaners nog ons ware kleure mag wys.
Official: (Nods) Yes, sir, I see. But you are a refugee, in other words?
Afrikaner: Ja, swaer. Jy weet mos. They are killing us left, right and – oh, well. As I said. Daai lefties, all those okes who say farm murders do not matter. They are the ones killing us.
Official: Yes, sir. Indeed. I am aware of the programme. We have been briefed.
Afrikaner: Dankie, tog, die goed daar in Suid-Afrika kan nie eers ’n brief aflewer nie.
Official: I did not get that, sir?
Afrikaner: Oh, never mind. It was a joke. I am impressed that you have a system that gets briewe to you guys.
Official: Yes, sir. Thank you. So, as I say, I am aware of the Afrikaner refugees. Indeed. But I need to confirm that you applied for refugee status when you came here the first time. From your papers, it seems that you came to the USA not that long ago?
Afrikaner: Ja-nee, jy’s reg. You’re right. Right? Hey, sorry. I like jokes. Correct and right. I am a refugee, all thanks to that man who I am going to visit on 26 September. I am going to shake his hand and say: “Mr Trump. We see you. We respect you. We are grateful. My wife and my children and I, we like what you do for the Afrikaner.” Ja! That is what I am going to say. I’ve got it all planned. (Chuckles) Op hoërskool, I was part of the debating team. (Lifts his finger) But I did play rugby, too! Jislaaik, julle ouens bring nou al selfs die Springbokke Baltimore toe. Is lekker. One of these days, our blerrie government will only allow soccer in that land of ours. Dan kom speel ons maar hier!
Official: Yes, sir. So, you became a refugee.
Afrikaner: Ja, man. I mos said so. I am.
Official: Yes, sir, thank you, sir. I am trying to understand.
Afrikaner: Nou understand quick, man.
Official: Yes, sir. But then you flew back to South Africa, stayed there for about three weeks and now you have returned?
Afrikaner: Yes, man. What is not to understand?
Official: So, no one forced you to fly back? You went back on your own volition?
Afrikaner: What does that mean?
Official: Voluntarily, sir. Your own free will? You chose to fly back?
Afrikaner: Ja, man. But there were personal reasons.
Official: I understand, sir. But nobody forced you to go back?
Afrikaner: Well, in some ways, you did force me.
Official: How so, sir?
Afrikaner: Medical goed, man. Your country does not care for its people.
Official: (Hesitates) We – yes, we have some issues with medical care, sir. (Pause) But how does this relate to your situation?
Afrikaner: My situation. Okay, boet, if you need to know. I wanted to spare you the details. I had a moerse big pitsweer – what do you call that in English? – right here! (Turns around, points at his backside and turns back to face the official) In the middel, Cyril. Huge, hey. And you okes, you do not provide healthcare like we have in South Africa. We have excellent doctors in our country. Excellent, man. Okay, not in the hospitals run by the bl – by, by the government. Nee, that is about as useless as your health system in America. No, man. We have our own schemes. PoepMed. Persoonlik: Ons Eie Praktyke. Poep. Eie. You know what eie means, hey? It means we provide care for our own people.
Official: (Pauses, then nods) So, you flew back for medical help?
Afrikaner: Yes, man! Wat verstaan jy nie? Your system – well. (Gestures helplessly) I was in big pain, man. This thing was huge! Moerse groot.
Official: I am sorry to hear that, sir. So, you willingly flew back to South Africa – took your whole family – and had your medical problem attended to?
Afrikaner: Ja. That’s mos what I said, hey.
Official: And you did not face – imprisonment or persecution while you were there?
Afrikaner: No. We know mos where to go and where to stay.
Official: And you took the family along?
Afrikaner: Natuurlik! Do you think I trust you lot to look after my wife? Jinne, you may want to look, hey! Yes, and then?
Official: Yes, sir. But the point is, you and your family willingly left the refugee programme, flew back to the country from which you had fled, and now you are returning?
Afrikaner: Fok, boet. Yes.
Official: But, sir, then you cannot be a refugee anymore.
Afrikaner: Nou wat de fok bedoel jy nou? How can I not be a refugee? Your own president says I am. He invited us. He showed the white crosses to that mampara who calls himself our president. That is why I am here. That is why I am going to shake his hand on 26 September. You know what I am going to say when I shake his hand? I am going to look him in the eye. One white Christian to another. I am going to say: “Mr Trump. We see you. We respect you –”
Official: (Holds up his hands) Sir, sorry. You will not be allowed to see Mr Trump or anyone else in the country. You no longer qualify for refugee status. By willingly –
Afrikaner: Nou wat de fok bedoel jy? Why can I not shake his hand?
Official: You are no longer welcome in the USA.
Afrikaner: Nee, fok, man. What does that mean?
Official: It means, sir, that you need to return to South Africa. On the next plane. You are no longer a refugee.
Afrikaner: Your president, Mr Trump – he says I am. Are you going to tell him otherwise?
Official: No, sir. You do not understand. Our laws are not made by Mr Trump alone. Mr Trump did speed things up for Afrikaners, like yourself. But once you are able to go back to your country and stay there, willingly, for a period of time, you no longer qualify to be a refugee.
Afrikaner: (Aghast) So, what do you want me to do now? I am here. I am a refugee. I want to shake Mr Trump’s hand.
Official: (Pauses) Sir, but you cannot fly back to a country where you are persecuted and continue to claim refugee status.
Afrikaner: But I am not fucking persecuted. I just cannot live there anymore. I want to live here.
Official: (Slight pause) Sir, you may apply for work permits and other ways to enter the USA. But in this instance, you came here as a refugee, and you have now lost that status by flying back to South Africa.
Afrikaner: But I had to fly back. I had to see a doctor. Your medical care is too useless to care.
Official: Yes, sir. I understand that. But, by doing so, you have rescinded your refugee status. Gave it up, that is, in plain English.
Afrikaner: I don’t get it. May I not see a doctor? I have PoepMed in South Africa. Those are good, white doctors looking after us. They care. If you had a good system here, I would not have gone back.
Official: I understand, sir. But you did go back.
Afrikaner: I had to go back.
Official: You did. And you took your wife and two kids along.
Afrikaner: Of course. What the fuck did you want me to do?
Official: (Raises his hands) Please do not get upset. I am explaining the situation, sir.
Afrikaner: Upset? Of course I am upset. I came back here. I want to go to Washington. I want to shake Mr Trump’s hand, and you – you, little man – tell me that I am not a refugee, even if Mr Trump says I am. Do you know why they are planting the crosses? Do you know? It is because they are killing us. They, the blacks. They kill whites. Farm murders, blood everywhere. They kill us. Mr Trump, your president, understands it. He says I am allowed here. He says I can raise my kids in a safe country. He allows us, my people, to plant white crosses on the grass of the White House. Now, you tell me – you, you! (Points a finger) You tell me I am not a refugee anymore.
Official: That is our law, sir. I did not make it.
Afrikaner: But you want to use your law to send me back to that shithole country where they kill us?
Official: To the one you have voluntarily visited, sir. On your own – well, because you chose to go back.
Afrikaner: Yes! And now I choose to come back here.
Official: Which I cannot allow, sir.
Afrikaner: What the hell. I’ll, I’ll – (Lifts his fist in frustration)
Official: Please, sir. We have security. I do understand this is traumatic. I am going to escalate this. Please go back to your wife and kids. Someone will come and speak to you to explain the next steps.
Afrikaner: You just want to send me back?
Official: We’ll discuss the steps, sir. I am now going to report you to my superiors.
Afrikaner: Are you mad? I am here. I am back. I am not going back there!
Official: (Picks up all the passports and the file, and starts his retreat) I am sorry, sir. Please go back to your wife and kids.
Afrikaner: (Suddenly animated and laughing) Hey, I get it! Schuster is here! My fok, buddy. Are you filming this? Fok! Ek moet vrou kry, en die kinders. (Turns to where the family is) Vrou! (Turns back to the official, who has stopped) Please tell me this is true?
Official: (Still some distance from his counter) I am not sure what you are referring to, sir? What I said is true. Someone will come to you –
Afrikaner: (Animated) Ha, boet, you are good! You are, hey. Show me the cameras, man! Ha! This is better than I expected. Wait till I tell my boet, hey! (Like a boy now) Where are the cameras? Where are they? Is Leon here?
Official: (Puzzled) Sir. Someone will come to speak to you.
Afrikaner: Ag, nee, man! Where is he? Where is Leon? Is he here?
Official: (Shaking his head) I am sorry, sir. I do not know who Leon is, but someone –
Afrikaner: (Still animated) Schuster, man, Schuster. (Sings) “Daar is kaas in jou polonie.” That oke, man, that oke. Shucks! (He shouts) It’s Schuster!
Official: (Looks on for a few seconds, puzzled, then turns away sharply, but turns back) Please return to your wife and kids, sir. I will send someone really soon. Believe me, I will escalate this immediately.
Afrikaner: Ha! Jinne, boet, you are good. I like comedy! It’s lekker telling jokes. But wait! Wait! Can I not get the wife and kids as well, hey? They’d love to be in the comedy. Please, man.
Official: (Pauses for quite a while) I am sorry, sir. I really have to get your passports and visas to my superiors. (Now turns and walks away firmly)
Afrikaner: (Lifts his hands in exasperation) You’re taking my passport and papers? Where are you going? I’ll, I’ll – (Shouts) Fok, buddy, what are you doing? (Softer, but still animated) This is supposed to be funny! Where is the comedy?
Official: (Stops walking, then continues)
Afrikaner: (Now yelling) Are you taking my papers? Where are you going? This is not fucking funny anymore!
Official: (Over his shoulder) Procedure. (Stops, points in the direction where the wife and kids are waiting, then disappears)
Afrikaner: (Body language slowly changes from animated aggression to utter despair. He exits the stage from where he entered.)
THE END