Our last day of shows began with a long drive, about an hour and a half from Chipinge, south to Tongogara Refugee Settlement.

As we traveled, I wondered: Could this be my last tour with Clowns Without Borders? I hope not. I love doing this work. But a tour like this one only happens when a particular constellation of timing, team, and availability all align—and that alignment is never guaranteed. I started the day by focusing on the moment at hand and working to make the most of every moment I had left here.

We arrived at the Tongogara refugee settlement office around 10:00 a.m. to check-in. From there, we planned to travel 30 minutes down the road to perform inside the camp. Tongogara, located in Chipinge District, is home to thousands of African refugees. Initially established in 1984 for Mozambicans fleeing civil war, it reopened in the late '90s to support people seeking safety from other conflicts. We were eager to bring our show there. But as often happens on tour, the plan changed.

Despite having the proper paperwork, we learned that Zimbabwean authorities were not allowing us into the camp that day. A tangle of bureaucratic red tape had blocked us. And while we could have returned the next day, there was no guarantee we'd be allowed in. After careful thought, we decided it was best not to risk missing a full day of clowning while waiting on maybe.

So, at 11:30 a.m., we turned around and headed back toward Chipinge. Thanks to Gregory—our photographer and local contact—we secured two new show locations at primary schools in the area.

Our first stop was Mattiome Primary School, where 1,600 students gathered by the shade of a giant tree. As the show began, students trickled in from every direction, gradually forming a full circle around us. We had to shift and pivot—literally and comedically—to include everyone in our performance. In the crowd, Josie noticed a particularly stern-looking man, who was all discipline and order. But as the show wore on and the laughter grew louder, something changed. His posture softened. Eventually, he smiled. That smile was a victory.

Next, we went to Gaza Primary School—our final stop on this Zimbabwean tour. The performance space was narrow, uneven, and a bit chaotic. Over 1,500 students showed up, their energy spilling over the edges of our makeshift stage. It was a challenge to focus them, and ourselves, but we clowned through it. In the end, they laughed, we laughed, and that shared joy.

Although we didn't make it to Tongogara, we performed for nearly 3,000 children on our final day.

We packed our gear, costumes, and clown props into the car and began our journey back to Harare, Zimbabwe's capital. Along the way, we stopped in Chipinge to grab a bite to eat. While at the restaurant, a young school-age girl about 10 spotted Josie from across the playground. Her face lit up with recognition as she called out Josie's clown name, Manhanga Kutapira, which means "Sweet Pumpkins." She waved enthusiastically, a radiant smile spread across her face as she played, the memory of our show still fresh with her. About thirty minutes later, we paused again—this time at a roadside market. A vendor selling macadamia nuts looked up and broke into a broad grin. It was another student from one of our shows. He recognized us from a performance we had given at his school and called out my clown name, "Baba Harare." His delight was genuine, his memory fresh. We bought a few bags of nuts, shared a few laughs, and got back on the road,

We felt warm and humbled to have left an imprint. To be remembered with such joy by these young people was a reminder of the quiet, lasting magic of this work.

As we wrap up this tour, I am grateful for the laughter, the lessons, and especially the people—huge thanks to Teddy and Lloyd of the Zimbabwe Theatre Academy. Teddy was the engine behind the tour's planning, and Lloyd—"Chimodho"—was our driver, road manager, and hilarious clown partner. I also want to shout out my fellow clowns Tsungie ("Pirori") and Josie ("Manhanga Kutapira"), who brought creativity, warmth, and heart to the shows.

Touring with Clowns Without Borders is about so much more than performance. It's about being fully present. It's about meeting people where they are—with red noses and open hearts. It's about creating joy in spaces that too often carry weight and sorrow. It's about being part of a global team working toward laughter, connection, and dignity.

If you've ever wondered how to support this work—how to help bring joy, healing, and laughter to communities worldwide—here's your chance.

Mark your calendars: Thursday, July 24th, is our Second Annual Fundraiser for Clowns Without Borders USA. We're gathering in Atlanta at the home of our dear friend and fellow joy-bringer, Tim Cunningham. There will be food, laughter, connection, and a chance to help ensure this work continues. The funds raised will go toward our upcoming projects in Lebanon and Gaza—places in deep need of joy.

A link to the fundraiser is here.

The Last Laugh (for Now): Wrapping Up Our Clowns Without Borders Tour in Zimbabwe