Interview with Mo Maka

As an actor, writer, and practising NHS junior doctor, Mo Maka brings a unique perspective to the stage with his debut full-length play, DO NOT ATTEMPT THIS CONVERSATION. Set during a single high-pressure encounter between a junior doctor and a patient's relative, the play explores medicine, ethics, grief, and the realities of working within an overstretched NHS. Following early critical acclaim and ahead of its transfer to the Bread & Roses Theatre and Edinburgh Fringe preview, I spoke with Mo about drawing from his medical experiences, tackling difficult conversations through theatre, and finding humanity within the healthcare system.

As both a practising NHS junior doctor and playwright, what inspired you to bring this

particular story to the stage?

I remember situations during my foundation years where senior clinicians would actively avoid having these conversations when they were needed. In medical school, I was taught that we needed to have these conversations well in advance, before a person became critically unwell. However, this very rarely happens. They almost always occur at the last minute, when emotions are running at their highest, when people are not thinking clearly, and when, ironically, breaking this news is the most difficult.

DO NOT ATTEMPT THIS CONVERSATION centres around a single discussion

about a DNAR decision. What was it about that moment that felt dramatically compelling to explore?

Being stuck in a room, with just you and a relative, strangers to each other, talking about a potential life-or-death decision. There is nowhere to hide and no escape. You have to be in that room, and you have to watch and listen. I wanted the set to be minimal because the focus is entirely on the words being spoken.It may feel uncomfortable, and you may want to look away, but you can’t. You just have to stay there. I think this play being a two-hander helps to amplify the stakes and discomfort.

The play unfolds in real time during one encounter. What challenges and opportunities did that structure present to you as a writer?

To keep it engaging. I have ADHD, so many things do not hold my attention for long. I wanted the conversation to be dynamic, interesting, funny, heartbreaking and, most importantly, engaging. So I ensured that the words I wrote and the movements we make are intentional to hold people’s attention.

Healthcare is often discussed in political or statistical terms. How important was it for you to focus on the human stories behind the headlines?

Most people don’t know or understand how hospitals function. A lot of the time, we are short-staffed and are rushing to complete all the tasks ahead of us so that nothing is missed. Mortality is one of the few things that everyone alive has in common. We need to have conversations about death, and those conversations are mostly unpleasant and uncomfortable. The public, for the most part, do not understand what CPR actually is, and they may not understand how we manage dying patients. I wanted to bring that to the forefront with this play. Medicine is not just about making impressive diagnoses on the spot or doing super complex procedures; communication is just as important, if not more so.

Nneka is asked to have an incredibly significant conversation with very little preparation. How representative is that pressure of the realities facing NHS staff today?

What Nneka faces in the play is unfortunately extremely common. We deal with so many patients that we simply do not have the time to always prepare for these things properly. Plus, there are simply some factors that we cannot control. For example, a patient may suddenly deteriorate, and we may have to have that conversation a lot sooner than anticipated. Because of our high workloads and the general unpredictability of the job, I believe this story is representative of the realities facing doctors today.

The play explores medicine, ethics, communication, and grief. How did you balance these complex themes whilst ensuring the story remained accessible and engaging?

I did not want the show to be an ethics lecture or to feel preachy. I, of course, wanted to imbue the play with these themes and ethical ponderings, but without it feeling like a lecture.

As someone working within the NHS, were there aspects of the profession you felt audiences might be surprised to learn about?

Many people do not know that CPR does not work most of the time, and that it can actually be very painful for people who receive it. They do not realise that ribs can be crushed and that a lot of internal damage can be done. I think that is something the public needs to be more aware of, as it would help people understand why Do Not Attempt Resuscitation conversations conversations are needed.

Despite dealing with serious subject matter, the play has also been described as surprisingly funny. Why was humour important to include?

A lot of the time, in the doctors’ office, after a very hard day, we laugh and make jokes about things. It is easy to just wallow in the sorrow of it all, but laughter really is the best medicine. Sometimes, you find yourself in situations that are so insanely absurd that you cannot help but find the humour in them.

How much of Nneka’s experience is drawn from your own observations and experiences working in medicine?

Nneka is the very nervous, very uptight version of me. I would say that I was most like Nneka when I first started. She overanalyses things and tries her best to emotionally distance herself from difficult situations. I see myself in her.

The title itself, DO NOT ATTEMPT THIS CONVERSATION, is striking. What does it mean to you?

I stylised it in capital letters because it was supposed to act as a warning. It is an unspoken rule between clinicians: avoid this conversation as much as you can because it will not end well for you. However, these conversations should be attempted. They need to be attempted because they are so important. So it’s a bit of an ironic title.

This is your debut full-length play. What has the journey from idea to production taught you as a writer?

That rewriting is so important. I have learnt that if I have an idea, it is important for me to just put it down, and then keep rewriting it and rewriting it until I am happy with where it’s at. And then I may go back and rewrite it again! I have really bad dyslexia, so writing is actually a massive challenge for me, but it is a challenge that I do enjoy undertaking.

Finally, what do you hope audiences take away after spending an evening with Nneka and this extraordinary conversation?

That your doctor is just a person. They can be flawed, unpolished and just as messy as you are. Most of them are very tired and overworked, but they are trying their best. I want doctors to remember that the patient they are talking about is not just another name on a sheet, but a person too. They were born, they were loved, and there are people who care about them. You'll definitely get a sense of sonder on both sides.

DO NOT ATTEMPT THIS CONVERSATION runs at the Bread & Roses Theatre from 25–28 June 2026 before an Edinburgh Fringe preview performance at The Hope Theatre on 22 July. Full information can be found at What's On - The Bread & Roses Theatre and DO NOT ATTEMPT THIS CONVERSATION | The Hope Theatre