Bruce Ndlovu, Sunday Life Reporter
WHEN one looks at the Bulawayo theatre scene, which has been held as the crown jewel of the arts in the city for so long, a tinge of sadness might overwhelm the pessimistic.
In 2024, a year in which high-profile theatre productions were few and far between, the city lost Ishmael “Litshe” Muvhingi, a stalwart on the city arts scene who had dedicated his life to the craft.
Litshe’s death only followed a couple of years after the passing away of Cont Mhlanga, another rock-solid legend who pioneered township theatre in Zimbabwe and was undoubtedly one of the country’s greatest creative forces.
Besides those two, theatre in Bulawayo has lost a few valued cadres over the last decade or so, valued soldiers who fought valiantly for the city’s right to call itself the cultural capital of the country.
Sihlangu Dlodlo and Mhlanga’s widow Thembi Ngwabi died in 2023 and 2024 respectively, joining long-departed lynchpins like Beater Mangethe and Mackay Tickeys in the afterlife.
These are men and women who shaped childhoods and brought joy to audiences at a time when it was thought that quality entertainment only came from overseas.
In this sea of despair, one man who is still keeping the flame of theatre bright and burning is veteran director and actor, Memory Kumbota.
While some might have passed or even fallen by the wayside, Kumbota stands as a shining example of a generation of thespians that dared drag theatre from a mere hobby into a fully-fledged profession. While he acknowledges that the world around him has changed, Kumbota is still as enthusiastic about the theatre as he was when he first stepped on stage.
“I believe that what many consider the major players in theatre today are not far removed from the pioneering generation of theatre practitioners who took the art seriously,” he told Sunday Life in an interview.
“Our generation is the first to fully commit to theatre as a career. Because of this, a lot is expected of us—especially by an audience that is now more exposed and digitally engaged than in previous generations. As a result, our work must meet this public demand and intellectual engagement. We have to be more innovative, presenting work that challenges and resonates with our audience. That is why the plays I direct are rarely linear; instead, they are experiments in style, form and content. This, I believe, marks a shift from the plays we staged in the past.”
Four decades after he stepped on stage, Kumbota believes it is time for him to reflect. This year, Kumbota is set to work on a series of monologues chronicling his journey in the arts, which will be compiled into a book tentatively titled Monologues of a Life in the Theatre: The Story of a Zimbabwean Artist.
“The monologues are not new—I have always had episodes of deep reflection and self-talk. These moments occur mostly when I am in a creative or reflective space. I have a small group of friends and colleagues with whom I regularly share my monologues in our WhatsApp group. They often say, “Bhudasi, why don’t you take the time to properly write these down and share them with a wider audience?
“Primarily, they are reflections on the artistic process—insights drawn from my personal experiences, intertwined with my intellectual, artistic and physical journey in the arts. Naturally, they carry a lot of history, chronicling the growth, events and experiences in theatre. They start from the very first day I was interviewed for enrolment by my theatre teacher Evie Globberman. They include encounters with people I have met, worked with, plays I have watched, read or drawn inspiration from. This history of theatre is painted on the canvas of my personal experience, infused with anecdotes and my perspectives on the art,” he said.
Over the years, Kumbota has watched as theatre has evolved from a cheap township entertainment to an art form that can be packaged for export and presented as an exhibition of the talent possessed by Zimbabwe’s children. However, as it transformed, some have felt that theatre has lost touch with its roots, as it is now synonymous with the city’s more affluent suburbs instead of the townships that gave birth to it.
“There has been criticism that we have abandoned community spaces and issues. To some extent, I agree. However, there are still artists and groups doing serious work within communities. There are reasons why we have taken the direction we have, and that is one of the key topics I explore in my monologues. For instance, how do we define community? What are its geographical or demographic boundaries?” he said.
For Kumbota, the key to his longevity has been his ability to let his imagination roam free, unencumbered by parameters some might place on their creativity. The creative process, he said, begins in his workshops where no idea is ever too outlandish or bizarre.
“My rehearsal room is not a conventional one. It is a factory of ideas—a space where everyone is free to share even their wildest, most fragile thoughts. As a result, it is often filled with the offcuts, shavings and dust of ideas, some of which get swept away, while others form the foundation of our work,” he said.
As a veteran, Kumbota has found himself becoming a mentor for the city’s budding generation of thespians. While some stalwarts might be judgmental of the younger crop of performers, Kumbota believes that working with them has invigorated his own career as well.
“The young artists I have trained and directed are many, and while I cannot name them all, I take great pride in knowing that I have played a small part in shaping the future of theatre. They are forging a brave new path—one that bodes well for the future. Among young female performers, a demographic that many feels is not well represented in theatre, I have worked with and directed people like Nomatshawekazi Damasane, Bathabile Dlamini, Charmaine Mudau, Musa Sibanda, Agnes Ncube, Stha Ndubiwa Qheqheshiwe, Nomvuyiso Mabi and others, some of whom I’ve also trained from an early stage, countless times at rehearsal we would sit discuss and share insights on art and life.
“Some people describe me as a teaching director, I don’t know because I just do what I enjoy doing and that’s sharing with artists, guiding, explaining and encouraging exploration. My teacher Evie Globberman years ago used to say a theatre director is not like a sculptor and an actor is not like a statue. An actor does their homework and does not wait for the director to shape them. If the actor understands the director’s vision and philosophy the process works better. So I guess I teach as I direct. I hope too that the monologues may teach,” he said.
