Personal – Do you see me?

 

Working in a remote rural area outside Lusaka on assignment for a large pharmaceutical company meant that we encroached on a communities village, daily happenings and definitely invaded their personal space.

It was November and unrelentingly hot.  The rain was threatening to bring some relief but not during our 3 day visit.

We visited the same village twice.  It felt like you couldn’t tell their days apart.  Children hanging out around their homes, a few grandparents overseeing many and no parents in sight.  Presumably at work in a country with incredible high unemployment.

I was captivated by their world so I asked every child if it was okay to take their photo.  None refused, some stared deeply into my lens as it looked back at them.  The lens never lies.

All they asked in return was for were those click pens.  We had about 5 amongst ourselves and two bags of sweets.

The only solace I left was with the saying “it is not what you say to another but how you make them feel that makes the difference”.

I find some of these images haunting.

 

 

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As I mention below, this boy’s eyes haunt me overtime i look into them. Imagine if he was given a real opportunity in life, what could become of him?

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My first experience of being inside a hut – a dedicated kitchen – and a young child keeping the fire going and preparing the next meal.

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How does this image speak to you?

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Sisters waiting for the next moment to pass them on this incredibly hot day?

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This reads ” Food, we wash our hands. The door we knock.

So please knock and respect the door like food. We wash our hands”

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This boy’s eyes still haunt me.  Would love to know what he was making of all of this?

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An incredibly powerful image for me.  A young girl stroking her “fluffy rat”

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I”ve made this image more contrasty than i captured it; wish their hands were a little higher as it speaks volumes of their connectedness in their world, so far removed from mine.

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This one is a real keeper for me.  She was posing for me unaware that there was a cyclist about to pass her.  Her life seemed so stationary to me as we visited her village two days in row wearing the same clothes and those large eyes.

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Me and some of the children from the village we worked in.  One can’t help feeling the unfairness of our world.

 

 

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