Mulumba is a UK-based contemporary artist.



photo CREDIT © Aurore Vinot



FATHER MUGABE: UNMANNED UNTITLED
UNKNOWN (an apologia, by Lt. Joe Negro)





FATHER





MUGABE



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FATHER MUGABE: UNMANNED
UNTITLED
UNKNOWN



In Celebration of the Gifts Bestowed: AN APOLOGIA by Lieutenant Joe Negro



My Dear Father, Comrade Robert Gabriel Mugabe,


Words cannot express the glory of your biblical achievements.

Your blazing vision is sustenance for humankind.

Your strength and poise: beacons of hope.

Valiant and selfless, you celebrated and preserved our God-given riches.

You were the noble enabler of divine dreams.

The reincarnation of our collective psyche. Our moral arbiter.


With your revolutionary sword, you single-handedly defeated our demons; taught us to forgive, and to turn enemies into friends.


To your loud trumpet, through thick and thin, we marched for prosperity of land and citizenry.


How proud I am to call you Father.


Grateful for the gifts you’ve given us.

Our soaring warrior spirit. Our smiling rebel soul. Every man a homestead stretching across a thousand abundant acres.


The drone of ceiling fans.

The smoke from cooking fires. The smell of millet beer. Sadza in the palm of our hands. The grasses of the veld waving in the breeze. Orgies of Chimurenga freedom music and euphoric dance.


All this you gave us.


And so, my dear Father, I trust you will forgive the trepidation with which I write this letter. After all you have sacrificed, how magnanimous to relinquish thirty-seven years of power with nothing but a whisper, and Grace.

Like many on planet earth, I have waited for news you will commence your well-earned rest with bated breath. Indeed, what progeny would not be elated to see their Father kick back after nearly a century of service to his children?


Need We ask more?


Your fortunate Son,


Lt. Joe Negro


Ps. My dear Father, time a premium given the late hour of your generous gesture, I have taken the liberty of preparing a modest holiday to assist you in taking full advantage of this momentous epilogue to your illustrious life. Considering your closeted penchant for all things British, and your fondness for Her Royal Majesty, Elizabeth the Second, in particular; I have hired a pretty red Volkswagen for the two of you to ride around town.

Enjoy your leisure, and enjoy a bit of laughter, and a catch up.

Not only is The Queen excited to see you, but you will be well pleased to learn she is black, so you may sit easy and appreciate her glory.

Regale one another with tales of the greatness of former times, as I regale my siblings with the triumphs of our Father, who art in transit.



















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A PERSONAL NOTE (not for public consumption) TO MY SUPREME FRIEND





My Supreme Friend Kim,


I am so distraught, you will not believe.

This morning, sat at my desk, minding my business peacefully, I perceived a fly buzzing crazily behind the blinds.

It immediately drove me insane.

I stormed the window for a reconnaissance, in a mind to smash the thing, where instead I was met by a fair-sized bee zipping up and down against the glass.

I didn’t stop to think.

I flew to the kitchen. Armed myself with two Big Value Pack, fast-acting RAMBO Insecticide Sprays. Jetted back to the window, and let loose on the bee.

I mean, you should have seen me.

I was a mad man.

Spraying and spraying. Straight in the face, and this crazy bee just kept going, buzzing erratically. The bloody thing wasn’t going to give up. In my rage, I lifted a pillow and whacked the beast. It fell to the floor and I watched it squirm and wriggle in poor circles, frantically fluttering its kinked wings at a last bit of hope.

Then it hit me.

I looked up.

What have I done?

It’s a bee. A fly okay, but a bee? It would not have bitten me. All it wanted was out. Why had I simply not opened the window?

I looked down.

The crazy fucker was still bobbing about, so I leaned into my best squat position, and drove my heel into its abdomen to end the misery.

It was so evil.

All day I have been mortified by my behaviour.


Anyhow, apologies for dropping this on you, but I feel much better already.

Only you get this.


Your Devoted Friend,


Lt. Joe Negro


p.s. Am in Switzerland next weekend. My trunk’s tight this minute. Got any spare change kicking about? Going to hit our old stomping grounds and boogie.

Remember them?

Good times.........


from the desk of the Lieutenant*



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MULUMBA





artist@mulumbatshikuka.com