Chapoto was sculpted during my time in Los Angeles while working on Aslan, yet its origins lie on the banks of the Zambezi River. While the world of film was one of grand fantasy, the reality I had witnessed in Zimbabwe was anything but. Following the demolition of Harare's shanty towns, I saw people with suits and suitcases stranded on the riverbank, their lives uprooted.
Chapoto was one of them. I captured his image as he used a small, blue canoe—scarred by a hippo's bite—to cross the powerful currents of the river. He was a man of immense strength and resolve, paddling frantically to a net he had laid for fish before his precarious vessel could sink. His powerful, sinewy body defied his age, a testament to a life lived against the odds.
In this bronze, I sought to elevate Chapoto's struggle and quiet dignity into fine art. The sculpture, like all my pieces, is a simple silhouette, yet it is full of energy and duality. It is a work of stillness that conveys frantic motion, of vulnerability that reveals immense power. The bronze bears my fingerprints, a human touch that grounds this hyper-realistic depiction in the very real experience of its creation. Chapoto is more than a sculpture of a man; it is a monument to the unwavering human will to survive and find purpose, even in the most challenging of circumstances.