In May 1969 the body of David Oluwale, a rough sleeper with a criminal record and a history of mental illness, was pulled out of the River Aire in Leeds. A Nigerian refugee who came to this country with dreams of a new life instead ended up with a pauper’s grave and ‘wog’ written down as his nationality on a police charge sheet.
His story, The Hounding of David Oluwale, has finally been made public by author Kester Aspden - who was rightly acknowledged in 2008 as the winner of the Crime Writers’ Association Non-Fiction Dagger award – and the theatrical adaptation arrives at the Playhouse this month. We spoke to Aspden about ‘the most extreme case of institutionalised racism and police violence this country has seen'…
When did you first become aware of David Oluwale?
I first read about Oluwale in an old Leeds University student newspaper from 1971. Why I was reading that is a dull story, but some time after I was in the Public Record Office trying to find archival material on inter-war Soho, and I discovered the case files, just released under the thirty year rule. I lucked out. Straight away I knew this was a great story. I turned over one of Oluwale’s police charge sheets and found that some officer had given his nationality as ‘wog’. What emerged, it seemed to me, was the most extreme case of institutionalised racism and police violence this country has seen.
Why do you think it's important to remember him?
He got such a terrible deal in this country, received such brutal treatment and didn’t receive justice in life. I wanted to understand the reasons why he became a disposable person. I don’t know whether it will help prevent such things happening again, though one can hope. I think intolerance is on the rise, with asylum seekers the new hate figures. Oluwale warns us where prejudice and race hatred can lead.
What difficulties are there in writing a factual account like this?
In historical writing, you’re forever coming up against the limits of what can be known. You can have a wonderful imagination, create beautiful narratives, but you’re not a novelist; you’re tethered to the evidence. So when you can’t establish something it can be frustrating but that’s the nature of historical work. It’s really challenging and rewarding to tackle such problems, working within the limits and pushing against them. ‘Fact’ is something of a dirty word. Some people never want to pick up a factual book. It reminds them of being at school. The challenge is then to write engaging narrative, to absorb your research and not to have it announce itself over the page.
How do you deal with writing about such a depressing subject?
There is something more depressing than writing about a bleak subject and that’s being a writer without a subject - my current condition! It might sound weird, but I really enjoyed writing the book though the story revealed the worst in human possibilities. I interviewed so many interesting people, from lawyers to policemen to Oluwale’s Nigerian friends. I’d finally found the subject I’d been waiting for, and had a chance to write creatively about a part of history which had been hidden and yet had contemporary resonance.
Do you believe justice has been served?
Partly. Police officers were put on trial and convicted for some of the offences they were charged with. But on the bigger manslaughter charge the jury had the decision taken out of its hands by the judge. You might see this as an injustice, especially if you believe that the evidence of their guilt was overwhelming. During the trial Oluwale was likened by the judge to an animal. To me, that was an injustice and I wanted to expose that. So the book and play are part of an on-going process to secure justice for David Oluwale.
Were you involved in the adaptation of the play?
I was quite involved in the early stages, advising on local Yorkshire detail and police procedure. But the playwright Oladipo Agboluaje was naturally in control of his narrative and he made the crucial decisions. The play is Oladipo’s creation, inspired by the book.
How do you find the play?
Gripping, touching and surprisingly – though not if you know Oladipo’s previous work – humorous. It looks great as well; the set and the lighting add to and create the drama, the soundscape is amazing, the cast are superb. I think the actual criminal investigation story has been told very clearly. Dawn Walton, the director, did a great job.
The Playhouse has rated the play in their brochure as '18', though in their favour they say under-eighteens can still come. Have other theatres done this?
I can only talk about Leeds. A number of school groups turned up to West Yorkshire Playhouse and they loved the play. It engaged them with social issues which can sometimes seem ‘worthy’. So any obstacles in the way of young people seeing this play is bad. They are precisely the constituency which should be seeing this play. From the outside, the Nottingham position seems confusing. Do they want under-eighteens to come or not?
Any last words for our readers?
Please see the play. It’s one of the most important you’ll see this year. Also, I would like Nottingham Playhouse to actively encourage teenagers to see this play. Find out about the campaigning work of Inquest and United Friends and Families and keep in touch with the death in custody issue through the Institute of Race Relations website – www.irr.org.uk.
After the interview, we asked Derek Graham, Communications officer for the Playhouse, to comment on the age rating. He said, 'Kester's right: this is a play that deserves to be seen by everyone, young or old. We do give productions rough age ratings, but this happens months before the play even goes into rehearsal on the basis of the subject alone and they are purely advisory: we don't exclude anyone from buying tickets. Given the shocking true story the play tells, we anticipated a good deal of violence and so we went with eighteen in our brochure. We've since revised it online to fourteen, a much more suitable recommendation. The final production, while it certainly doesn't flinch away from what was done to David Oluwale by his police tormentors, doesn't dwell upon it graphically and after seeing the play ourselves we would heartily recommend it for anyone aged fourteen and up.'
The Hounding of David Oluwale is available for £7.99 from Vintage.
You can see the play at the Nottingham Playhouse from 31 March to 4 April
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