THE BEEKEEPER OF ALEPPO
Richmond Theatre
★★★★★
“amidst the devastation, Almeida allows moments of tenderness and humour to emerge”
In Anthony Almeida’s powerful stage adaptation of The Beekeeper of Aleppo, the audience is invited into the profoundly moving story of Nuri (Adam Sina) and Afra (Farah Saffari). Based on the acclaimed novel by Christy Lefteri and adapted for the stage by Nesrin Alrefaai and Matthew Spangler, this Nottingham Playhouse production tells a story that refuses to be forgotten – one rooted in the devastating reality of the Syrian war and the refugee crisis it created.
We first meet Nuri in Aleppo, shortly before the outbreak of war forces millions to flee their homes. A master beekeeper, he works alongside his cousin Mustafa (Joseph Long), whose family has kept bees for three generations and runs a shop known for the sweetest honey. Under Almeida’s direction, the production immerses us in Syria through evocative storytelling, traditional songs, and a sand-swept set by Ruby Pugh that evokes both war-torn streets and refugee camps.
The narrative unfolds in a deliberately non-linear way. While the play opens in the sterile isolation of a UK refugee centre – confronting the bureaucracy faced by those seeking asylum – it soon moves between past and present. Through fragments of memory, we witness how Nuri and Afra were forced to leave their home and the perilous journey that carried them across borders.
The play grips the audience from the beginning, placing a quiet weight in the chest that mirrors the emotional burden carried by its characters. Yet amidst the devastation, Almeida allows moments of tenderness and humour to emerge.
Afra has lost her sight – a physical manifestation of an internal shutdown brought on by trauma. We see Nuri desperately trying to find medical help for her, only to encounter the slow machinery of bureaucracy and the barriers faced by refugees navigating an unfamiliar system. As the narrative unfolds, the full scale of their tragedy gradually emerges. This is a painful story to witness: a story of losing everything built over years, of grief, and of learning how to live with memories that refuse to fade.
“We lost our bees. Let’s see if we can save our children.”
We hear stories of the unimaginable, including the haunting image of Nuri’s nephew among bodies in a river. And yet, even after such loss, survival demands that they keep moving. We follow their journey – from Syria to Istanbul and Athens – in the desperate hope of reaching England, where Mustafa is already trying to rebuild a life and return to beekeeping.
Adam Sina delivers a remarkable performance, portraying Nuri with quiet vulnerability and emotional depth. Haunted by trauma, he repeatedly speaks of his son, yet for much of the play we are left uncertain about the child’s fate. This lingering absence, closely tied to Nuri’s PTSD, creates a quiet but devastating tension throughout the production.
The ensemble – including Joseph Long, Aram Mardourian, Alia Lahlou, Princess Khumalo, Dona Atallah, and others – bring impressive versatility to the stage, shifting seamlessly between roles, accents, and locations. With Almeida’s thoughtful direction and Kane Husbands’ striking movement choreography, scenes transition fluidly between the painful present and fragments of memory.
As someone from Greece, watching parts of this journey unfold on stage felt strikingly familiar. The portrayal of tense encounters, crowded squares where refugees wait for the next uncertain step, and the ways in which their vulnerability can be exploited reflects a reality many in the region have witnessed first hand.
Ultimately, The Beekeeper of Aleppo is not only a story about displacement. It is about memory, survival, and the fragile threads that keep people moving forward when everything else has been lost. It leaves you devastated but full of humanity. It makes you see, but also wonder.
And as the play quietly reminds us: wherever there are bees, there is life.
THE BEEKEEPER OF ALEPPO
Richmond Theatre
Reviewed on 10th March 2026
by Nasia Ntalla
Photography by Manuel Harlan
