Running is my form of meditation. It’s when my mind roams free, musing over profound thoughts that escape me during the hustle and bustle of daily life. On this particular run, my reflections drifted back to the Acropolis visit from the day before. I couldn’t help but ponder the fate of the Parthenon’s roof and decorations.

All that remains of this once-great temple are its majestic pillars and beams. Yet, the intricate sculptures and decorative elements that adorned the Parthenon have vanished. It’s as if they simply evaporated into thin air. Or did they? As I contemplated the whereabouts of the Parthenon’s “missing pieces”, I was reminded of my visit to the Louvre Museum in 2022. What struck me was the presence of some of the most iconic Greek sculptures there, such as the Winged Victory of Samothrace, perched triumphantly atop the grand Daru staircase, and the Venus de Milo, prominently displayed in the Classical and Hellenistic Greece galleries. It made me wonder: why are these masterpieces in France, when they were created by Greek sculptors in Greece? Why aren’t they in their place of origin? It’s intriguing that alongside the Mona Lisa (which I always wondered why it’s famous?), the Winged Victory of Samothrace and the Venus de Milo are considered some of the most renowned female figures in the Louvre.

The backstory is quite fascinating. The Winged Victory of Samothrace was “discovered” by Charles Champoiseau, a Frenchman, in 1863 on the Greek island of Samothrace. So, in this case, I suppose it’s a matter of “finders’ keepers,”?

This situation took me back to Zimbabwe, where a similar story unfolded with the soapstone sculptures of the Zimbabwean national bird, the “Hungwe” or “Chapungu.” These intricately carved birds hailed from the ruins of Great Zimbabwe, a majestic 11th-century city that gave Zimbabwe its name and served as the heart of the Shona Empire. According to legend, each time a new king ascended the throne, a fresh soapstone sculpture was crafted to symbolize the new reign. So, over the length of the Shona Empire, they were a lot of these sculptures made and they adorned the incredible stone city – Zimbabwe. These bird sculptures, prominently featured on the Zimbabwean flag, were more than mere artifacts—they were emblems of kingship, history, and ancestral. The legends even suggest these birds were messengers from the ancestors, underscoring their profound cultural significance.

**Soapstone sculptures of the “Hungwe” Zimbabwe's main national emblem** (image courtesy of James Theodore Bent - The Ruined Cities of Mashonaland)

In the 1900s, however, European explorers, swooped in on the ruins of Great Zimbabwe and carted off these precious artifacts. There is one question that I don’t have an answer to: if these colonial powers truly viewed these sculptures as the work of “savages,”, “uncivilized people” with backwards cultures (whom they were only interested in “civilizing”) then why did they go to such lengths to steal these people’s artifacts? Surely, a “savage” wouldn’t craft something so breathtaking that it was deemed worthy of international plunder?

Luckily, eight of these sacred bird sculptures were eventually recovered and returned to Zimbabwe. I had the honor of seeing them in person at Great Zimbabwe during my visit in 2018.

**The Great Zimbabwe** - Details of the layering of the stones without mortar

As I thought about my own history the question still lingers: What happened to the pieces of the Parthenon? Finders keepers? Although many sculptures and artifacts have been lost or destroyed, around 50% are now housed in London at the British Museum, thanks to Lord Elgin. So, yes, it seems like “finders keepers” is a recurring theme in the saga of historical artifacts. It’s always intriguing to explore the complexities behind the “finders keepers” phenomenon, especially when it extends beyond the colonial narratives typically associated with African artifacts. The notion that even European countries have engaged in plundering and retained stolen treasures from each other highlights a broader, often overlooked, historical irony.

Take, for instance, the issue with the Elgin Marbles (marble pieces from the Parthenon that are in the British Museum). The Greek government and cultural advocates argue passionately for their return, emphasizing that these artifacts were acquired through dubious means and hold profound cultural significance for Greece. They assert that the marbles would be best appreciated in their original context, displayed alongside other Parthenon relics at the Acropolis Museum. On the other hand, the British Museum and the UK government maintain that the marbles were legally acquired and returning them could set a precedent that threatens other museum collections. They argue that their collection provides a global context that enriches our understanding of ancient cultures, which the Acropolis Museum alone might not fully convey.

**Placard in the Benin Artwork Exhibition** in the MFA

In Boston, the Museum of Fine Arts’ Benin sculptures exhibit there is a placard that reads, “The works of art in this gallery were looted by British troops in 1897 from the Royal Palace in Benin City (in present day Nigeria). They were subsequently dispersed on the global market and purchased by a private collector in the second half of the 20th Century. Four of these works belong to the Museum. The remainder are on loan from the collector, who has promised to give them to the MFA, we recognize the violence and cultural destruction so closely associated with these works of art. The MFA is committed to restoring the collection’s rightful ownership and has reached to colleagues in Nigeria to discuss how best to achieve that goal”

The Elgin Marbles | Athens

Piki Piki | Iten