With an invitation from the Terera family, I travel to landlocked Zimbabwe.
I’m sitting in a bar in Harare when a 92-year-old Mugabe is gifted a massage chair on national television. A doorless commuter bus covered in glitter stickers that read ‘second wife’ races by; boys hanging off all sides screaming their destination. Wise Shona women share stories of evil human-drowning mermaids and human-swallowing mountains. With Chibage (roasted corn) in both hands, I walk past a posse of policemen; each one of them with the catwalk model prerequisite connected to their employment. I explore rural villages, high-density townships and cities stuck in time. These are the last few months of Mugabe’s 37-year reign.

Zimbabwe, 2017