On 9 March 2015 the protest movement Rhodes Must Fall, that requested the removal of the statue commemorating the British imperialist Cecil Rhodes from the Cape Town University’s campus, started a global call to “decolonize the university” and education at large. As Grant and Price (2020: 9) recognize, this was part of an “overdue acknowledgement that unspoken colonial legacies had for too long upheld and promulgated white privilege” and highlighted the long tradition that recognizes “the role of public sculpture as a catalyst for political debate […] within art’s histories”. Drawing on these premises and on a theoretical approach mainly inspired by Multimodal Critical Discourse Analysis (Ravelli 2006; O’Toole 2011; Machin and Mayr 2012; Machin 2013), the aim of this chapter is to explore the way in which Kara Walker’s monumental installation Fons Americanus not only highlights the contemporary legacies of Western colonialism but enables the emergence of alternative and marginalized narratives through a decolonial process that makes the artist an “unreliable narrator” (in her own words). Inspired by the Victoria Memorial in London (UK), the African American artist’s monumental fountain—that was exhibited in the Tate Modern’s Turbine Hall from late 2019 to early 2020 before its removal and destruction—substitutes the symbols of Western colonial power with figures representing the legacies of the history of slavery all the way up to contemporary forms of racism and of intellectual and material colonization, all held together by the use of water as the quintessential symbol of the triangular slave trade across the Atlantic (Wardi 2011; Amideo 2021). As a matter of fact, if the large-scale sculpture appears to be at least partly inspired by a monumental and power-saturated Western grammar of visual representation (Kress and van Leeuwen 2021; Abasnnouga and Machin 2013), a closer look reveals the cracks in this idealized iconography in the form of an infinite amount of symbolic and material layers operating as a counter-discourse. Similarly, both Walker’s use of recyclable materials for the installation and its subsequent dismantling reject the colonial logic of permanence and invasiveness that is often typical of a politically saturated Western art. While the sculptures that are part of monuments tend to normalize and legitimize certain discourses (e.g., war monuments portray and celebrate certain values and ideals of masculinity and heroicness rather than the actual destruction or killing caused by the war, see Abasnnouga and Machin 2013: 2) thus portraying elements that pose no threat to the “overall set of values dominated by nation, industry and capitalism” (3), Walker’s installation follows a different logic. The artist poses herself as an “unreliable narrator” in the sense that her visual and material narrativization does not follow the normativity of a necessarily selective historiographic account but enables the emergence of otherwise silenced narratives through a process of critical fabulation (Hartman 2008: 11-12). This process is the result of a decolonial pedagogy (Alexander 2005; Borghi 2020) that draws on the Black feminist tradition to shed light of the political imbrication of history, race, and gender in contemporary forms of ongoing colonialism as a way of opening up the way to a multiversal and global-centric perspective.