The unknown drama of Koliq, where the fall of communism was predicted

In his book "Underground Pantheon", the writer Visar Zhiti dedicates a special place to the writer Ernest Koliqi, and his work banned during the communist regime. There, Visar Zhiti announced for the first time the existence of a rare play of Koliq from the 70s, with the title "Rajët movidin", written in Rome, through which he predicted the fall of the communist regime at a time when this fact was not yet articulated in any country of the East.

"The prediction has a shocking accuracy, not only for itself, but that indeed in the 70s the communist dictatorships started to go downhill. The English writer, George Orwell, the same age as Koliq, wrote the gloomy novel 'Eighty-Forty', as the alarming year of the triumph of communism in his country (meaning the world), while Koliq as an anti-Orwell, or positive Orwell, with his own drama saw the opposite. Of course, the dictatorship hit and slandered him, insulted him like many things with its short-sightedness. This small work does great honor to Albanian literature, intelligence in general, especially that of Eastern Europe. The Albanians who suffered the most, gave the most hopeful message", said Zhiti.

Below you can read an excerpt from this drama:

Event with a duke

Themselves

Shuku, teacher (28 years old)

Ndreka, former trader (66 years old)

Iza (24 years old)

Roza, Shuk's wife (25 years old)

Ganxha, Ndreka's wife (26 years old)

Lina, Roza's sister, resident (17 years old)

In Shkodër, with 197...

(A bread room, similar, in an old gentleman's house. Walls that have not been painted for a long time. A simple table made of tar in a surrounding environment with different movable seats one from the other. At the end of the room, two large windows fall At the end of the curtain, there is a door in the fire room, and a sofa covered with a yellow cloth Although there is no lack of cleanliness, the room immediately leaves an impression that the apartment used to be bright and well-kept. It was a sunny autumn day.

LINA (enter through the door of the shenashin, dressed in walking clothes, greet Roza as she comes out
with two buckets full of water from the door of the fire room): Good Nadja!

ROZA: How early did you leave! Welcome!

LINA: Mass at the School of Nuns is said at seven o'clock. It's over here. I came
I saw how you felt and took me out to Cell Field.

ROZA: There is time. It won't be more than half past eight. The walk starts after the eleven o'clock Mass on Fretnevet. I'm bringing the water to Shuk and I'm coming. how is nana

LINA: Good. The pains in the groin have stopped. Shuku how are you?

ROZA: In good health, but, as always, they are surprised by their whims. He reads, takes notes and walks around the room. I have to repeat the word several times before they get it: it is so focused on thoughts...

LINA: I'm preparing a new work, of course.

ROZA: Come with me! Waste of time. When he didn't bring to light how much they were, today he must understand that the work of his writings has come to an end. It cracks me up. Instead, I thought about how he improved our situation, and he became a thread like his friends, so that they did not leave his master anywhere, the bieret after the dreams. I'm in big trouble. Lina!

LINA: Shuki is good. Sooner or later, he managed to rank among the writers in
I appreciate you as you deserve.

ROZA: Wait for the donkey until the clover comes out! I have no faith in his god. Left behind friends. Then... (with a low voice) do you remember that they let... these people of today lead me as a writer? It beats in vain. But... let me bring him the water. Don't be upset. Hey, I came! (Goes out to the shenashini).

GANZHIJA: (enters from the right) Good Nadja Lina. There is no need to ask how you are, why are you driving because you feel like an apple in a jam. So early today?

LINA: I am at Mass at the Nuns.

GANGHIJA: Let him help you. I was also there at mass, but I was at the end of the church and I didn't see you. You were lucky, my son, I grew up for the sake of God and received good lessons among nuns. Unfortunately, there are some who, because they have left, have not seen the church with their eyes and do not know the great consolation of the urata...

LINA: Like my sister, for example, neither? Don't blame them, Ganxhe. It absorbed the thoughts of... them. It's not a bad heart, but the past has left a strong mark on it.

GANXHIJA: What I don't like, dear Lina, is that your sister doesn't keep her thoughts to herself, but tries to impress others. Well, here is Mr. Shuku: he does not tell people to believe that it is good and right. Well, the church told me that it belongs to him more than he became the master of their thoughts...

LINA: I'm not strong at times. But... I understand why, Ganxhe locja, Shuku has his own thoughts that are very far from their principles without being, it is understood, anywhere close to ours; with these today, I have to say...

NDREKA: (entering from the right) Welcome, my dear.

LINA: Don't call me old lady, Mr. Ndreke. I…

NDREKA: Do you want to call her a friend? I hate the words "friend" and "friend" and I have put them out of use, as for myself.

LINA: Call me Lina.

GANZHIJA: (looks at you) You're starting to get boring too. Never leave the girl alone
he did not return his word.

NDREKA: You have reason. Lina is not like...

GANXIJA: Leave the words empty, I told you. I'm going to make a coffee with you. I have my heart on fire. (Exit to the noise room).

NDREKA: (he sat down on the sofa) O good Lord, this praise that you promised me will make me a comfortable old man! You know, Lina, how miserable it was when they were. Especially on sunny days. Sunday was no different from other days. Hey, listen. The bells of the Great Church are ringing. Aman, don't wait, I opened the window. You should hear the chimes. (Lina opens the windows). Is there a bigger cutie? Enjoy the sun freely; go with me to the big Mass, just like before. You are young and you didn't realize when they were there. But we have our life on the terrace. We were greedy, they knew. Do you care? We consider blessed those who lived among the Romans... I put them in the ground!

LINA: I don't remember very well, yes, really, rum and kumbonvet were banned at that time?

NDREKA: Absolutely.

GANJIJA: (put two cups in one

NDREKA: Good luck, woman. It is clear from the wind that you have baked us some tarrana coffee.

LINA: (To Ganxhe) I don't know who knows how to roast coffee like you.

NDREK: A It seems easy, on the contrary, he likes stunts a lot. Ah. there is nothing better than drinking coffee, listening to the bells ringing and thinking that "they" are not above us anymore, taking our breath away. Freedom, freedom, there is no price in this world.

ROZA: (entered and heard Ndreka's words) Liri kallpe... Only Mendelehti doesn't remember that the priestess put a man's soul in a prison of scattered lies. It is not freedom that does not remember to make me follow the line set by the priests and the governors who have no other thought but to exploit the small desert.

LINA: Pash fen, why don't you look at your work!

NDREKA: Let it sizzle... Her words don't spoil the fun of this Sunday full of sounds. Kumbomns don't care about anyone. This was like the sound of the drums coming from Zalli i Kirirt when they were shot. Now the anxiety was broken... Ah. this music sounded to prolong his soul.

ROZA: I believe it, now that we are back in the Middle Ages...

NDREKA: Let's go back to a good life!

GANXIJA: And you, mother, why are you grunting? Let her do her job. She grew up with those thoughts.

LINA: (turning her head towards the street from the open window) Ladies, look at it. At the top of the street, there's a strange lady standing... What clothes are you wearing!... You can't help but look beautiful... He's tall... Well, someone has stopped and the dish is asking you, I'm waving in the direction this rascal…

(Roza and Ganjja quickly go out the window.

GANZHIJA: Who will be, dance? You are entering our street. It's getting here…

ROZA: They wear it really perfectly... As long as they are flexible... It seems that life's problems don't make you lose it like we do in the deserts.

LINA: My dear lady, it looks like they have...

ROZA: It is stopping in front of the door of our yard...

GANXIJA: Yeee... What about this one who begs us? (the courtyard door rattles: the cremation is heard through the shenashin's door)

ROZA: I said they directed it wrong...

GANJHIJA: (goes out and opens the door to the courtyard) In this case, how will I deal with him?

NDREKA: (without moving from the couch, wrapped a cigarette in a cigarette case) Call me. I know Italian...

ROZA: (as in mockery) He's speaking Russian, I'm here!

NDREKA: They don't need you or me. There is a wrong door, but this one is looking for something. Here we have no one to deal with strangers... Go, Lina, see who that woman is and how Ganxha's business is going with her... (Lina exits to the right).

NDREK: A lot of strangers have started to come. We have come to our country and, now that it is possible to travel without obstacles, there is a lot of interest in walking around the city.

ROZA: In this half-ruined house, no one leaves without me...

NDREKA: Eeeh... Apparently this house is one of the best in Shkodra...

ROZA: Today is a mice nursery. We poor people are condemned to live here inside.

NDREKA: (don't pay attention to her words, she continues as if to escape with herself) Sinadin's house, my good-hearted lord.

ROZA: Rich people who lived to squirm with their eyes on the backs of the blessed people. So one of them, do I care, was I fingered as a person with anti-popular ideas?

NDREKA: Are you talking about Pjerin Sinadin, writer?

ROZA: (runs in breathlessly) Do you know who it is? The lady of the house!

NDREKA: (looks at you) Who? Who, you say?

LINA: Mistress of this house, then! It came from Italy. You are selling the yard with Ganjhe.

NDREKA: Is there any way? Did Ganjja understand it well?

LINA: Yes, she speaks Albanian like us. Asht daughter of Sinadin; did the owners of this house say so?

NDREKA: Right. But why did he come?

LINA: I don't know. As soon as I showed up with him, I drove him here with you.

ROZA: (with za idhnak Ndreka) Shif, I have paid you the rent for a year, and you know it well: before St. George, I will not let you go, even after he comes, all the people of Sinadin are dead and alive...

LINA: Before they told me that, I'm waiting to find out how the work is developing.

NDREKa: (Lina) Did Ganjja tell you about me?

LINA: No; but, who saw the possibility, she is now getting up here.

NDREKA: What did you think?

LINA: There is nothing more humane to do. As a chirping nightingale has a fairy. A sweet smile lights up his face when he speaks

NDREKA: They didn't like that!

ROZA: Why didn't you like it?

NDREKA: The arrival of this – well?

LINA: Who is this, Mr. Ndreke? Housewife?

NDREKA: This – huh? According to the guess, she is the daughter of Pjerin Sinadini.

ROZA: To that writer with backwards thoughts?!

NDREKA: (don't listen to Roza talking to Lina) Pjerin Sinadini - I have known him - was a man with great ideas, a tireless initiator of good deeds, wrote in a notebook, read books, had a circle of friends who loved him dearly, but also many friends who knew him...

ROZA: Bad people are like...

NDREKA: He didn't hurt anyone. To some, of those who remembered him, you had a problem and what a problem...

LINA: And who is this lady?

NDREKA: Of course, his daughter, who has inherited his estate.

LINA: It's coming! Well, you can hear the ghost. They are in the shenashi with Ganjhe.

ROZA: I don't want to drive him.

LINA: You stay, don't wait. Let's go to school, he says, he has come to me...

IZA: (enters and brings you from Ganja, with prominent people) Welcome!

NDREKA: God bless you! I am Ndrekë Beitoja, caretaker of this house...

IZA: I'm sorry for disturbing you, Mr. Beltoja. Deshta saw me, after I was shot, I came to Shkodër, my parents' house.

NDREKA: Are you the daughter of Mr. Pjerini, then?

IZA: Yes.

NDREK: I have informed your father.

IZA: (eyes suddenly light up with joy) Really?

NDREKA: But who didn't know? He tried hard for this city of ours.

IZA: She loves Shkodra with her soul. There are those whose hearts are bursting from longing for her. He always talked to me about Shkodër, about Albania, about this house...

(Looks around with a shadow of longing on his face)

This is the ode of bread... At the end there used to be an armchair where my grandfather used to sit... This should be the ode of fire. Am I allowed to drive it?

NDREKA: This is your house, madam... Order: we are escorting you (together with Ganjhe, he escorts Iza out and held her).

LINA: What a graceful and humane woman.

ROZA: That's what these girls look like, but inside they're garbage.

SHUKU: (entering from your right) Who is that old lady who came with Ganja to our room and looked at the trapazan and musandra with obvious longing? There was a strange expression in his eyes! how do they have me without a dream...

ROZA: You, you, are always lost in dreams, mor tatalosh. And this beauty has come with the wake... the dawn casts its calm eye on the lake. Spread the news of the awakening, the first ray, the first greetings, tremble in the light silence, and soon in that glory the sun, which completely clothed Shkodra, resounds with fairies, noise and life. And that young, loving sun pours into the house, your flowery path awakens color and sparkle, it wraps everything like a thin gold: from end to end, like a river of joy, your tears in the eyes of girls, laughter, fills the curls with light theirs when they go to school. /Albania/