Oyale

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Right in the ring, he considers a retreat and to surrender, his best option. He declares his opponent the winner. He can’t go any further. He’s dying. It’s plain and he yells at the referee if he can’t just see.

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“Right in the ring, he considers a retreat and to surrender, his best option. He declares his opponent the winner. He can’t go any further. He’s dying. It’s plain and he yells at the referee if he can’t just see. He thinks he needs to conserve his little energy left to live as a quitter in defeat down the valley. In this case, he’s got clearly vanquished and there – pointing – his finger is raised towards the victor. Then a champion emerges when the other is subdued, when the other succumbs. It is the tradition.”

“The events in Oyale alter the trend. Dying, he stays back in the ring. Determinedly, he fights on dirty despite cruel punches from the opponent. With relentless battles the play orbits round the tenacity of the settlers demanding Park’s authority to divulge the perpetrator of the horrific crime which has created unbelievable deadly factions with a group claiming to have, right on their palms, the true identity of the criminal. A legal battle is proposed consequently as a best bet. It gets all heated fascinatingly all the way as the reader reads on in search of what’s next, what’s next – “I’m dying to know.” And perhaps the answer to the repeated rhetoric and the anguish of the dying but fully fascinated reader is on the pages of the next, next, … and next final volume.

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