The play takes place entirely in Mama Nadi’s bar and brothel, situated in the middle of the Congolese rain forest and prone to visits by all factions of the war. Government forces alternate with ragtag rebel soldiers, all with the single purpose of unwinding and having a little fun. At the center of the maelstrom is Mama Nadi, a rough-around-the-edges businesswoman who believes she can keep the world out of her tiny oasis in the forest. Played with shrewd energy and assertiveness (and at times a tad too much hyperbole) by Nedra Dixon, Mama is a sort of Mother Courage figure, whose “children” just happen to be a handful of frightened and in some cases empowered young ladies of the night.

“I found Mama Nadi in the muck,” she says, explaining how she formulated a persona and turned it into a treasure, digging it out of the mud just as the miners outside dug out gold and other precious minerals. She scrimps and saves, keeps the soldiers in line, waters the whisky, and rules with an iron fist. “There must always be a part of you that this war can’t touch,” she says, like a mantra. But she has her vulnerabilities, and when the young Sophie comes along she takes pity on the poor girl, who has been severely wounded in a brutal sexual attack that left her “ruined.” Caroline Gombe was affecting as the shy, girlish Sophie, changing expressions with the tide of events like a will-o’-the-wisp. Samra Teferra was Salima, who upon learning she is pregnant debates whether to see her waiting husband—played with smoldering electricity by Tosin Morohunfola—or let him return, rejected, to his squadron. Mykel Hill was aptly full-of-himself as Commander Osembenga, while Damron Russel Armstrong painted the volatile character of rebel leader Jerome Kisembe with broad, bold strokes. Chioma Anyanwu played the haughty Josephine with a mixture of muscle and vulnerability.

Act 1 moved a bit slowly, yearning for a dramatic arc and finally settling on it, toward the end, with the drama between Salima and her husband, Fortune. The second act was considerably more boisterous —after a longish, documentary-style initial exposition—with explosive bursts of at times violent activity. The production’s most durable and stable presence was that of Walter Coppageas Christian, the gentleman who makes little secret of his feelings for Mama Nadi: She treats him, good-naturedly, as a mild-mannered nuisance. He was a sort of anchor for the extroverted turmoil all around him, and he communicated quite palpably his affection for Mama. John Rensenhouse was also right-on as Mr. Harari, a mineral merchant who seems nice enough but in the end is something other than we expect. Erin Walley’s scenic design was rustic-African, with simple furnishings, tables and chairs, a bar. Megan Turek’s costume designs were convincingly authentic in their bright hues, and Ryan Matthew Hall’s sound design of crickets, rain and gunfire helped us feel we were right there in the middle of Mama’s bar.

Setting an entire play in the same space can easily foster stasis, and there were moments—perhaps by design—when it felt we were not “going anywhere.” The play’s conclusion is dramatically satisfying enough (though just barely), with a startling revelation thrown in for good dramatic measure. Love is found, in the end, even though Mama has declared it “too fragile a sentiment for ‘out there.’ ” By the end we are more struck by the bitter truths we’ve learned about this volatile region than about character development or dramatic arc. Perhaps that is justification enough for any work of theater.

Ruined runs through May 1^st. The Unicorn Theatre is at 3828 Main Street. For tickets call 816-531-PLAY (7529) or visit www.unicorntheatre.org.