Bruce Ndlovu, Sunday Life Reporter
FROM his vantage point on the corner of Robert Mugabe and Leopold Takawira Avenue in Bulawayo, the Tired Man sees it all.
Every day this metallic man, his bowed head permanently lodged in his hands, plays daily witness to life as it unfolds on one of the busiest streets in Bulawayo. He watches as fatigued students from the National University of Science and Technology trudge daily back and forth from the institution, whatever the weather, shaving inches off the soles of their feet as they walk towards a future in which they are perhaps free from hunger and fatigue.
From his spot, he sees the running battles between the touts around Mac’s Garage and the zealous Tendy Tree Investments parking marshals who seem to have introduced a brand of corporate street militancy never seen in the first 128 years of Bulawayo’s existence.
For passersby, the sculpture has become a source of amusement and speculation, as they wonder what could have driven this man of steel into such a state of despair. Indeed, some look upon The Tired Man with pity.
Tired Man statue
When a man sits, his head bowed, the weight of his entire skull on both his hands, it is usually a sign that he is now drowning in his own sorrows. It is an indication of a man whose soul is now heavy, one who thinks that if perhaps he held his head hard enough, he could somehow squeeze out the troublesome thoughts buzzing in his head.
With prizes soaring in shops in Bulawayo and around the country, many men of flesh and blood find themselves with their heads in their hands more often than not.
Sitting only a stone’s throw away from the Bulawayo’s Revenue Hall, The Tired Man is perhaps a reflection of residents’ own perplexing relationship with the current city fathers.
At a time when taps are constantly dry, when the reappearance of water after prolonged absences is greeted with cheer and furious activity as people scurry to gather every drop in containers, the rates the city charges have left many scratching their heads. Paying handsome fees for a service that is rarely available is testing the patience of even the most composed residents.
As Bulawayo turned 129 last week, one can be forgiven for thinking that the state of the city might be the source of his obvious state of worry. Once the jewel of urban Zimbabwe, Bulawayo in certain places looks like an untidy shadow of its former self.
Sanitary lanes have become the armpits of the city, giving off the odour of uncollected refuse and urine from drunkards who find relief there instead of the numerous fly-ridden public toilets dotted around the CBD. Once a shining example of cleanliness, Bulawayo cannot even boisterously boast about its water anymore. Sickness and even death can just be a gulp away when water gets mixed with sewage.
Potholes are now a widely accepted blemish on the face of the city, with city fathers issuing a stern warning against proactive residents that wish to make cosmetic changes on roads that clearly need major surgery.
The Bulawayo of today looks a lot different than that of yesteryear when artiste David Ndlovu won a competition that led to the Tired Man taking up permanent residence just outside the Tower Block.
National Art Gallery of Zimbabwe in Bulawayo
“That piece by David Ndlovu called The Tired Man is a work of art that stands out on its own,” said veteran visual artiste and the former Director of the National Art Gallery in Bulawayo, Voti Thebe.
“He did that piece for a competition. I have seen Bulawayo growing from what it was to what it is now. Initially, the gallery was at the old marketplace, where there is the Matabeleland Water Project, but we moved out in 1994 after the city council asked us to shift from there because they wanted to demolish the building and live open ground, just like the one where there’s that particular sculpture. On that corner of that street, Mugabe and Takawira, there used to be a filling station there and then on the right, near 8th Avenue, there used to be a pharmacy. All this was demolished to make the Tower Block more towering and nicer than it was when it had all those buildings around it,” he said.
Born in Matopo, in 1963, David Ndlovu perfected his craft at the Mzilikazi Art and Craft Centre, where he joined as a student for a three-year training course in 1980. He specialised in ceramic sculpture in his final year under the tutorship of Adam Madebe and went on to participate in many national exhibitions winning first prizes in the 1985 and 1989 Weldart exhibitions and an Award of Merit in the 1988 Nedlaw Baringa exhibition at the National Gallery of Zimbabwe. He is now resident in Mozambique where he has won further acclaim for his work.
According to Thebe, Ndlovu’s sculpture was chosen because it was thought it would enhance the once sacred lawn around the revenue hall.
Tower Block
“That sculpture is an influence of Michelangelo’s The Thinker. David Ndlovu trained at Mzilikazi Art and Craft Centre and he now lives in Maputo where he’s quite famous for his metal sculptures. When they demolished those buildings, it was felt that the place needed a sculpture or work of art to beautify the green. So, a competition was organised. There was a sculpture called Looking into the Future by Adam Madebe, which was standing where there’s a generator now but unfortunately, someone didn’t like it and it was removed and its now back at the National Gallery,” he said.
Thebe said Ndlovu’s portrayal of a “tired man” had seemingly struck a chord with residents over the years because it seemed to capture the human condition of those living and working in the city vividly. Given the painstaking effort that went into its making, it is perhaps fitting that the mood that the artiste attempted to capture has indeed proved timeless.
“If you compare David Ndlovu’s sculpture to others, you will realise that it is more sensitive because he looked at the frailty of human beings. The human being works hard and it needs to rest at the end of the day. We have to rest our minds, our spirits and our entire body. The pieces of metal used for the sculpture were donated by a steel company. They are off cuts from a machine. So, they made a sculpture out of clay, and while it was still wet, they would stick those metal disks onto it. They would then weld it together then pull out the clay, leaving the shape of the sculpture.
Mzilikazi Arts Craft Centre
There is another sculpture of Mbuya Nehanda at the Mzilikazi Art Centre. It is made out of wood and I think it is about 2m high. He is one of the best artistes the city has produced,” he said.
Thebe said as the city marvelled daily at Ndlovu’s work, it was important to reflect and realise that he was probably one of the few remaining of a dying breed. He is a product of a city that is now barely recognisable from its former self.
“I don’t know where we are going now, especially in this digital or computer age. When it comes to creativity things are not the same, we don’t sit down and create any more like we used to. These days you just sit down and press a button on the computer and it will give you everything. Unfortunately, it means people are no longer as creative as they used to be,” he said.