Jono Terry's artistic endeavor offers a profound exploration of personal memory juxtaposed with a nation's colonial past, embodied in his book 'They Still Owe Him a Boat.' He delves into the complex relationship between his childhood memories of Lake Kariba and the harsh realities faced by the indigenous population. While Terry recalls serene evenings and joyful summer holidays, the formation of the lake in 1960, a result of flooding the Zambezi River, led to the displacement of 57,000 Tonga people, irrevocably altering their lives and livelihoods. The artist perceives Lake Kariba as a poignant emblem of Zimbabwe's enduring colonial legacy, characterized by broken pledges, forced relocations, human rights violations, and environmental degradation, stemming from a history of dispossession that began with the British South Africa Company in 1891 and solidified with the 1930 Land Apportionment Act.
Terry's six-and-a-half-year journey as a documentary photographer transformed his perspective on the lake, revealing the hidden narratives of those who suffered from its creation. His book beautifully contrasts the lake's picturesque facade, frequented by white visitors, with the plight of the Tonga families who once thrived along the fertile Zambezi. He captures their resilience and untold stories, including that of a 90-year-old elder who vividly recounts an idyllic past along the river, rich with myths and folklore, a history often obscured by colonial narratives of progress. The photographer skillfully uses his images to echo these profound stories, such as the white goat, a symbolic reference to a sacrifice made to appease Nyaminyami, the river god, after the Kariba Dam's construction. This act, meant to avert the god's wrath, underscores the deep cultural and spiritual connection the Tonga people had to their land, a connection violently severed by the dam's creation and subsequent flooding.
The construction of the Kariba Dam, hailed as an engineering marvel by colonial powers in 1960, promised cheap electricity but left a legacy of hardship for the displaced communities. Despite promises of care, housing, fishing rights, and financial support, these commitments largely went unfulfilled. Decades later, many resettled tribes living near the lake still lack basic amenities like running water and electricity. Terry's work not only highlights these struggles but also captures the daily life on the lake today, showcasing the resilience of villagers, their traditional practices, and the natural beauty that remains. His deep personal connection to the region, rooted in his father's wish to have his ashes scattered in Lake Kariba, infuses the project with a powerful and complex understanding of belonging and the intricate, often problematic, relationship between white Zimbabweans and the land.
Terry's photographic journey offers a compelling narrative that transcends mere documentation; it is an act of historical reclamation and an empathetic bridge between past injustices and present-day realities. His work challenges viewers to reflect on the lasting impact of colonial actions and the importance of acknowledging the untold stories of marginalized communities. It stands as a testament to the enduring human spirit and the power of art to illuminate truth and foster understanding, urging a recognition of the profound interconnectedness between land, history, and identity.