The story may be familiar, but Twist knows this is by sharing personal moments that his audience can begin to relate to, events so very different from their own experience. Twist abandons the linear structure and presents us with a montage. Jali is also the term for a latticed screen in Islamic architecture, and as we look through the screen, the lattice breaks up the scene beyond but gives it structure.

Promotional image for Oliver Twist's Jali (Griffin Theatre)

We glimpse the young Twist cowering in his bed before armed thugs as his parents negotiate for their lives in the next room. We see the family barricaded in their store while shots ring out outside. They wonder if they will see their father again. We hear of the hopes abandoned and dreams crushed as requests for asylum are refused. But Jali is by no means a gloomy or bitter piece. While not for an instant sugar-coating the horror from which he and his family escaped or the demeaning, soul-crushing effects of the refugee camps, Twist finds humour in the darkest places. As Twist learns to adapt to his changing circumstances, we realise that Jali is as much about becoming as it is about loss. While smug, secure Australians might have a cynical view of the citizenship ceremony, Twist demonstrates its importance to those who have lost the security of belonging. In the process he gives Sydney’s lord mayor a well-deserved plug.

Twist’s charm, his years as a stand-up comic, and his connection to the oral traditions of his native country stand him in good stead as he leads us through his story. His natural stage presence, his ability to connect with his audience, and his excellent timing enable him to hold our attention for the duration of the show. He can start a story lightly, then suddenly reveal the pain behind it. Behind the bright smile there is a devastating sense of irony. At one moment, speaking of a misplaced apology, he turns the tables on his audience to deadly effect.

The program lists Erin Taylor and Phil Spencer as dramaturgs; how much of the shaping of the piece is due to them only they know. But Jali is such a personal statement that one can only imagine the collaboration was very much a question of simply tweaking Twist’s script.

Taylor, also listed as director, has Twist effectively roaming the Griffin’s small stage. Kelsey Lee’s lighting successfully underscores Twist’s stories, as does composer Chrysoulla Markoulli’s music.

Twist describes himself as ‘Rwandan born but Australian at heart’. In Jali, he shows us the resilience and determination needed to find one’s place in a completely new, different, and not always welcoming culture. There is an African saying: ‘When the music changes, so does the dance.’ It is clear that Twist has many more dances in him.

Jali is being performed by the Griffin Theatre Company until 27 March 2021. Performance attended: March 16.

This project is supported by the Copyright Agency’s Cultural Fund.