Visiting the Egyptian museum in Cairo, a sanctuary built in the late 19th century as a public outcry to stop the trafficking and theft of so much of our ancients remains in plain sight, often with the forced approval of our governments at the time to archeological missions to Egypt during colonial and post colonial eras. The result of this massive theft campaign is tens of museums across the Global North with hundreds of thousands of our own relics shown and celebrated with no intention of giving them back to our nations.
It makes me wonder if our ancients decorised all those tombs and filled them with their relics of spiritual significance to impress us millenniums later. It makes me wonder If they wanted us to scrutinise their mummified bodies not knowing what sins and good deeds they did in their life.
It is thanks to the fetish of a thief that he only fits as many perfectly made relics as he can on his boat trip back, that he leaves the sculptor’s lines and unfinished works for us to celebrate. I gazed upon the other unfinished Nefertiti’s head, which is believed to be made by the same sculptor millenniums ago. It was the sculptor’s unfinished creation. Celebrated in her homeland.
One of my favourite statements by Nora Al Badri, a German-Iraqi artist, who made her project about Nefertiti in 2015, in which she hid a technical 3D scanner in her jacket and went inside the Neues Museum in Berlin. She illegally scanned Nefertiti’s bust. It was her way to deprive the museum of their monopoly and constant rejection of Egypt’s appeals to bring her back to us. Nora coloured a 3D printed bust as a near-perfect replica, then made the rite of burying it as a counter act to the excavation in an undisclosed location, never to be found again.