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IMAM OF RIGUI

R I G U I , B U R K I N A FA S O

After 2 hours on the track from Ouahigouya, I reach through


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the cloud of dust that still surrounds me and grabbed the first
²ƒ“¢¥ot[¥ ı(²¸§¡ 
€¨|§ ͗‚§‚Œs«§01 ƒ}ò children’s outstretched hands leading me to Rigui’s village chief.
‚¯•§/‚¨—+»œ¥¼ ±Œ I brought him cola nuts and a big bag of rice for the village.
‚²rmom…„±°o§³©s Benoit, who is with me on this bush portrait project, lets me
°™¨͕±Ÿ}¨,±¢}¥—³©y know that I have been given a hut and that all my equipment
has already been carried inside. It’s 43 degrees and I sweat
profusely while setting up the studio in this airless space.
y the Al Jazeera Media Institute Amade Ouedraogo, the village imam will be the first person
2020 . ISBN: . Printed in Qatar I photograph. When he enters to sit in front of the lights we
ad Khamaiseh . Camille Delbos discuss the situation in the Sahel at length where all religious
esign: www.boris-sabatier.com
communities have been able to live in peace and tolerance. ĪBut
Institute . Doha, Qatar . 2020 ©
All Rights Reserved how do you see the future?” I asked. I only shoot one picture.

J A C Q U E S P I O N
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GRAL

G U L M I T, P A K I S T A N

Apart from the front door, traditional Wakhi constructions have only one opening, located
on the roof, to allow both light to flood the main room and for smoke to escape from the fire
pit. Each person here has a dedicated place. For example, the oldest people sit high up near
the fire pit. Furniture is kept to a minimum, usually just a cupboard to store groceries and
kitchen utensils. The Wakhi house has become more comfortable as educated children
with higher incomes look for a house with more rooms, a more spacious proper kitchen and
electricity. Proud to be Wakhi, upward mobility allows them to affirm their cultural identity,
where traditional music and the Wakhi language have been preserved. But their cuisine is left
behind, with traditional dishes being replaced by generic dishes with no cultural signature.
Access to trade routes has led to the introduction of new food products. Knowledge of
traditional Wakhi dishes, prepared from wheat/barley, sour buttermilk, yak cheese (if
available) and apricot oil, are the secret of mothers and grandmothers, and have therefore
already been relegated to special occasions such as housewarming parties, weddings,
and village festivals. Here she can be seen preparing a traditional Īgraalĩ meal for me.

C A M I L L E D E L B O S
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CUBAN SHOE SHINER

HOLGUIN, CUBA

Angelito caught my attention with the level of passion he was


putting into what he was doing when I passed by him on the
streets of Eastern Cuba. He started shining shoes at the age of
8 and is now 87. He asked me if I had met many people who have
been doing the same job for that long. He said he loves his job
because he can choose his schedule every day. He finds fulfilment
in his profession through the conversations he has with his
clients. He confessed that most people come to chat more than
to get their shoes shined. He knows the whole neighbourhood
and what goes on in everyone’s life, as the few minutes spent
with each client fills him in on the latest news. He joked about
how people like me wearing flip flops leaves him jobless.

A L I S H A V A N B E V E R
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SHANI IN RED

Z A N Z I B A R , TA N Z A N I A

Shani drinks a cup of traditional spice tea, taking a short break from a long
day’s work at the Babu Café on the seafront of Zanzibar’s Stone Town. This
rough and ready establishment is one of many Arab-style buildings crammed
onto a rocky promontory overlooking the sea. As the evening draws in, the café
is at its busiest. Customers come to watch the sun disappear beyond the sea
as old-fashioned sailboats criss-cross the horizon. Shani and her business
partner compete for clientele with other more modern cafes in the same area.
While Babu still serves Zanzibar’s traditional spice tea, their competitors offer a
pastiche of local culture: western food and drink with a Zanzibari twist. Most of
the owners are themselves foreigners drawn to by the allure of the “romantic”
East and know exactly what tourists are looking for. But while Shani may have
to follow her rivals’ lead in order to make a living, she does it while staying
true to the café’s spirit – all the while wearing her traditional Zanzibari dress.

M O N T A S E R M A R A I
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SLEEPING BOY

K Y R G Y Z S TA N

At the edge of Song Kol Lake in Kyrgyzstan, a little boy is sleeping on a


horse. From childhood to death, horses are part of nomadic life. Following
the Soviet period, the prestige of a Kirghiz person was evaluated by the
number of horses owned. Nowadays, there are almost 400,000 horses in
the country. They are bought for transport, agricultural work, their meat
and Kymiz, fermented mare’s milk. In the past, they also played a military
role: the nomad became a warrior thanks to his horse. In these times of
peace, they are feted in many celebrations with equestrian games. During
the summer, the nomads leave them free to roam all day long. Before
nightfall, men gather the herd and women milk the mares. Hitting or flaying
a horse is also considered shameful. Humans and horses are inseparable
friends: as with this child in Song Kul, they share a relationship of trust.

A R T H U R T H O U R E T
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PA D D Y F I E L D C A M B O D I A

S I E M R E A P, C A M B O D I A

In the disadvantaged countryside of northwest Cambodia, the


activity that offers families a chance of survival hardly spares
children. Farmers work together to plough the fields, sow and
replant rice, in five-month cycles. Most of them cannot afford
a tractor and have to work the land with oxen. Rice roots also
require a large amount of water. To prevent the water from
stagnating and rotting the plant, rice farmers must use irrigation
techniques. I met Sophany on my trip to Cambodia. She’s the
daughter of rice farmers. She’s 15 and barely knows how to read.
Her family has been working in the paddy fields for generations,
Īthe work is hard and we earn almost nothing but it’s the only
thing I can do, there are no job opportunitiesĩ Despite the hard
work, these farmers sang while working to keep their spirits up.

V A L É R I E L É O N A R D
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²z¥ /n–¬¥  ž16 1 n¬¯ .nŸ’ ͙p  ¤Z ª³p ª¨ ¤Ÿ’ n°¬¨ Ϋn™² Ît¥ Ͳ‚œt¥ ±†
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.nŸ’ ª¨ Bï𠤲±“¥ ½ò IJ ¼ !±¥ x¨ƒp ͳ¥n™ž „²„™s ¤y ª¨ ͳ™©tzò Ͳn¬™¥
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d

PEACE

R I G U I , B U R K I N A FA S O

Azeta is the women’s leader in the village of Reko. She is an intermediary


between all the village women and the organisations supporting development
and fighting malnutrition, which affects one child in four in the village.
As part of the Burkinabe Ministry of Health’s new protocol for monitoring
malnutrition, community-based care is now favored in order to improve its
effectiveness over the long term. In the village, 45% of children under the
age of five suffer from more or less severe stunting and the village population
lives on less than $1 a day. Azeta is a highly respected woman, a wise person
who is able to defuse nascent conflicts on issues that affect people’s
intimacy and child-rearing practices. Each of her gestures is an invitation
to peace and dialogue between generations within a traditional society.

J A C Q U E S P I O N
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9
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—ƒ²ÎZn°²vn°¬p§¢¦sÎt¥Ī±¥ĩn°y1!ͬp—¨n°t³pı…³«…¦zs

MUJERES Y MARAÑON

NAMASIGUE, HONDURAS

In southern Honduras in the Choluteca region, Namasigue’s


inhabitants are mainly women who have had to adapt to
living without the help of men who have emigrated to the
United States. They have found their salvation in growing
the cashew called Īmarañonĩ. They are behind the creation
of a cooperative called Crepaimasul, which has enabled five
villages in the Choluteca region to join forces to commercialize
organic cashew nut farming. Living in precarious conditions,
i.e. without running water or electricity, the women and
children have nevertheless managed to find a balance.
Pictured is Ines Baleriana, a 69-year old farmer who has been
growing cashews for over 56 years. She has 10 children, 5 of
whom have disappeared over the years. After her daily tasks
and harvesting the precious fruit, her stepdaughter, Lupe
breastfeeds her son in the warm atmosphere of Ines’ house.

M A H E E L I P E
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‹€s ı Íq¥n’ ±¬† ï ¤q¡ .n}¥ Îp _°t«1 ͆ ¦¥
Ît†  .nz¨ rqq| .±q¬“† ͙¨ny ı ͳm³q¥ ͆¬°¥
§l»¨ª[†ª˜u}q¥£¥‚Z·yn¯0nZ͜¦¥ ln˜ª[¥y
n3«n³|®y1Ϋ¶n²
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Ímyº r‡¥ Î9¬[¥ Ͳ9 ±† Ϋ¶ ‘¢ž ά‡©s9 Ím³‡¨ n¢³¦™tp
Ͳ±¢t¥nt|ά«ƒ¨¶ın¨¤Zn¬¯r³p4 2¥1¤©˜1"
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9
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e¨n˜ =𠪳©†n² Ç Ī͙¨nz¥ ƒn}¨ ı ά¨!»² n² ±°ž

JASMINE

I S TA N B U L , T U R K E Y

Jasmine, 25, is passionate about her environmental


engineering degree. When the war started in Syria,
Jasmine was a university student in Aleppo. She was
forced to give up her studies in 2013 but immediately
decided to find a solution by studying in Turkey. Four
years ago, she was accepted at Istanbul University.
The main difficulty was speaking Turkish and finding
decent accommodation. “I do not feel very comfortable
when people learn I›m from Syria because I often
have to cope with bad-taste jokes about Syrians.
I do not consider myself a refugee: I study here, I work
here and I have a house”. She feels that language is
the most important thing; “The Turks respect you
more if you speak Turkish.” Challenge met as Jasmine
takes all her courses in Turkish at the university.

M A R I E T I H O N
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5

AZIZ CHRISTENING

DAKAR, SENEGAL

Aziz Diop and his wife are attending the celebration they organized
for the birth of their new daughter. In Senegalese social life, this
celebration is very important. In their large home, on the outskirts
of Dakar, their entire family and neighbours are gathered together.
They are happy to see the celebration is successful: all day long,
men will celebrate the child with words of blessing. Aziz Diop is
a prominent figure in his city. He is successful and shows it by
this display of wealth. Guests are offered food and refreshments.
ĪI am the happiest father today,ĩ he says. Everyone knows him
in the neighbourhood. For a long time, he has been helping the
mentally ill abandoned on the streets. According to custom, his
wife went to the hairdresser with her sisters to get her makeup done
and be dressed. The celebration will continue until late at night.

P I E R R E G A U T H E R O N
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3
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n™¨»ln™¥—©tzsÍ©|„ò»žn}¥ın˜n†¼™¥ͦ|
3 ™p1Ī1nZnsĩ
—³©y§¯n‡²1/n™“¥1n²°¥1Ϋn°t¥.nqts1ºnŸt|ºª¨/n²Ív»vı
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ͦln™¥§³¢p£‡©t¥1³¥n¢t¥1ƒt¥
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SONGKRAN IN ISSAN

TA K AW, T H A I L A N D

Every year from the 13th to 15th April, Thai people celebrate
the Buddhist New Year. Far from the excesses of the capital,
Bangkok, the region of Issan located in the northeast of the
country still retains all its meaning and tradition. In the small
village of Takaw (Nakhon Phanom province) after a journey of
several hours in crowded and often fully laden buses, families
get together for 3 days of festivities and sharing. The whole
population gathers to organize the celebration, celebrate the
wisdom of Buddha and honor the place of the elders in society
with dignity during a public ceremony followed by a great
collective meal.Issan, the poorest region of Thailand abandoned
by foreign tourists, still reveals to us the sensitive soul of the
inhabitants of this country who retain strong family values.

J A C Q U E S P I O N
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n¨„t¥ ±s 19 „ts §¥ ͳpƒœò ĪÍy ĩ *¦¥ n°¨»Z §yƒt²7 Í¡ƒŸ¥ n˜ |
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n¬Ÿ¥ ά™² 2‚¥ Ī#±|ĩ *¥ ±s r¡ Í¢“¬ò1 Íq†n¬ò o‡|
n™“¡¤©}sn³p¼nq˜1n°³¦}p±sr¬²„sΘn©z¥‹¡ƒ¥IJ ¦“²1
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TOUDA DANCES AHWASH

K A L A AT M ’ G O U N A , M O R O C C O

From Imilchil on the banks of the Assif Melloul (the ‘White River’)
in the Eastern Atlas, Touda has travelled some 195km to dance
with her Ahwash troupe at the Flower Festival in Kalaat M’Gouna.
She speaks to us in the Tachelhit dialect of Amazigh, while
another member of the troupe translates for us. Ahwash is a
collective Amazigh performance style whose name is linked with
the Sufi concept of fana’, the ‘annihilation of the self’ in religious
experience. While the men sing, the women chant and dance. The
movements vary considerably from village to village, area to area.
Touda wears jewelry and a white robe adorned with shining coins,
showing she belongs to the Ait Laza tribe. The men of the troupe
wear turbans and flowing white jellabas and carry silver daggers
and traditional embroidered leather pouches. Like all female
Ahwash dancers, Touda is unmarried - a requirement not imposed
on their male counterparts. But during the dance, all are equal.

W E S A L A L- S H A I K H A N D K A R E E M A C H A L H I
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:

T H E K I N G O F YAT E N G A

O U A H I G O U YA / B U R K I N A FA S O

Naaba Kiiba is the 49th King of Yatenga, one of the Mossi


kingdoms that remained until the French conquest at the end of
the 19th century. He is a retired civil servant who was enthroned on
March 10, 2001 and who was chosen among the descendants of
the previous king. Naaba Kiiba lives in his palace in Ouahigouya in
the middle of his estate. His residence is very modest. There are
rugs on the ground, some wooden chairs and an inner courtyard
where food is prepared. He is a vital political figure for the
stability of social and religious cohesion in this region of Burkina
Faso. After the meeting of the Council of Elders, he kindly invited
me into his personal hut. There, sitting on a chaise longue, we
discussed the situation for a long time and in a calm voice he
said to me: Īwe are at the dawn of great instability in our countryĩ.

J A C Q U E S P I O N
/0 m§µı̤°¥² 

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01!n¨¶ ,n©˜ ı §°t²ƒ¡ ı n°³¦˜ ±¦}² 0 ª[©² º Ît¥ Ͳ 1ƒ¥

A NAP OVER THE AMAZON

AMAZON RIVER, PERU

When speaking of Peru you often think of the archaeological


splendors of Cuzco emerging from the Andes. Yet Peru is also
the equatorial forest that makes up more than 60% of its
territory, and of course the sources of the Amazon. The capital
of the region, Iquitos, is in this jungle, and is the only city in the
world that has 500,000 inhabitants but no access by road, air or
boat. It can take 7 days to get there. On the river, wooden barges
known as lanchas, go from one village to another finally reaching
Iquitos. You board with a hammock that, hooked on the ceiling
of the single cabin, will serve as a bed during the journey. Ariana
sleeps in the lancha that takes her on the Amazon River to her
village 13 hours from Iquitos. She and her sister have sold their
parents› entire plantain crop at the city market. The money
she earned enabled her to buy sugar, oil, flour and other food
necessary for survival in the small remote villages of the Amazon.

V A L É R I E L É O N A R D
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THE ESSAOUIRA FISH CLEANER

ESSAOUIRA, MOROCCO

As soon as the first fishermen›s boats start to return from


the sea with the catch of the day, the fish cleaner is ready as
usual on this wall that connects the Port to the old medina.
He brings 2-3 buckets of water to clean the fish, takes out a
cutting board and a knife, adjusts his small chair, and waits
for his first customers. Under the gaze of the seagulls who are
hoping for a piece of fish, the customers follow one another,
each one bringing their freshly caught fish back and asking for
specific preparations: cut to be fried, opened for a barbecue,
filleted for a plancha etc. The fish cleaner carries out this
work with precise and controlled movements, and a big smile.

S E I F K O U S M A T E
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HIDING FROM GANGLAND GHOSTS

T E G U C I G A L PA , H O N D U R A S

Neither Brian, 34, nor any of his family members often leave the
dark confines of their small flat in Tegucigalpa, one of the most
dangerous cities in the world. They are afraid that news will find
its way back to the people they are running from. Here, lying on his
bed, Brian is trying to think of a way to escape his home country.
A few angry words to a member of the infamous Mara gang were
enough to put Brian’s life in danger. This gang use children and
young men to sell drugs, and the violence they use forces people
like Brian and his family to relocate to other parts of the country
for fear of their lives. Brian says that before he would have never
considered leaving Honduras: he had a good job in the haulage
sector and a decent, stable income. But now Brian’s family are
among 174,000 IDPs concentrated in twenty of Honduras’s 298
cities, all of them looking for the first opportunity to escape.

D É L M E R M E M B R E Ñ O
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A K H A L- T E K E H O R S E S

T U R K M E N I S TA N

“Of the 250 horse breeds in the world, there are only 3 pure breeds,
English, Arab and Akhal-Teke. We have huge respect for our horses
in Turkmenistan; we even give them a burial ceremony. Horses
should only die from a natural death.” Ada Geldiev Ashir is the proud
owner of the Ahal Dayhan Birleshik farm, 52 km west of Ashgabat,
the capital of Turkmenistan, well known for breeding Akhal-Teke
horses, a breed from Turkmenistan where they are a national
symbol. Akhal-Tekes have a reputation for speed and endurance,
intelligence, and a distinctive metallic sheen. There are currently
about 6,600 Akhal-Tekes in the world, mostly in Turkmenistan and
Russia, although there are some in Europe and North America.

G E O R G I N A G O O D W I N
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THE POPE POSTER

GUILI, CAMEROON

Cameroon is a land of astonishing variety much like its inhabitants. This


country has shaped their soul, spirit and appearance. More than 250 ethnic
groups live in this ‹Little Africa’, a natural paradise combining all African
climates and vegetation. In the north of the country many people live
without any official papers. Henry, 47, is one of the unlisted people in this
area. He learned to sew with his mother when he was little. In a week’s
time, he will celebrate Christmas with the whole village. He is sewing the
outfit he will wear on that special day. Henry, a devout Christian, has put a
poster of the Pope on his wall. He has two wives; one is Catholic, the other
Muslim. They get along very well. In Cameroon 61% of Christians and 21%
of Muslims live in harmony. Religious tolerance in this country is such that
one can often see interreligious marriages. Muslims and Christians cohabit
without issues and even sometimes organize shared prayer ceremonies.

V A L É R I E L É O N A R D
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UPPUVELI FISHERMEN

UPPUVELI, SRI LANKA

Although it’s monsoon season, this year it has rained less


than expected on the east coast of Sri Lanka. Anyway, the rain
doesn’t stop Uppuveli fishermen going on the beach every
morning to get their catch. After a small boat has moved the
fishing nets away from the beach, the fishermen take the rope
from either side of the net, strap it on their hip and pull the
fishing net slowly out of the sea. Centimeter by centimeter.
They rock slowly from side to side, one foot to the other, in
the same rhythm. A poetic and strenuous dance. In the water,
2 fishermen with snorkels manage the net to maximise the
chance of catching fish. Their catch is one again paltry today.

C A M I L L E D E L B O S
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T H E L AT E S T P R E D AT O R S

MAZUNTE, MEXICO

Why photograph school shark fishing? Because this shark has


a long regenerative capacity (reproductive cycle), and has been
put on a red list of Īvulnerableĩ species by the IUCN (International
Union for the Conservation of Nature)! A shark that must be
saved. - Why do you fish the shark? - The Japanese buy the fins at
a good price. They make soup and think that it heals impotence.
It’s a profitable catch. The shark is very good to eat too. - Felix ...
The shark is endangered. - If I had known, I would not have taken
you to sea. Do you think I’m having fun? I have friends who never
came back. We do not have all your navigation equipment. One
storm and everything is over. I have to feed my children, support
my family. It’s easy for you Europeans to come and lecture us!

F A B I E N D U P O U X
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SHEPHERD WHISTLE

J E T I O G U Z , K Y R G Y Z S TA N

During the summer season in Kyrgyzstan, herders go up to the


jailoo, the high pastures, to graze their herds. They stay with
their children for 6 months, living in their yurt, the traditional tent
found among other nomadic people in Central Asia. I meet this
shepherd on his horse, the traditional four-wheel drive vehicle,
who invited me to stay with his family for the night. After his Asr
prayer, he shows me tiny white spots on the top of a mountainside
and tells me ĪThis is my flock, look now!ĩ He puts his fingers to his
mouth and whistles once, loudly. His flock freezes suddenly and
heads towards the encampment, rushing unstoppably down the
mountain. The cows came back of their own accord, as they had
been trained to do. Reassured, he invites me for a bowl of green
tea, bread and kaymak in the tent, waiting for the herd to arrive.
Convenient but not infallible, he will go and look for the last animals.

C A M I L L E D E L B O S
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MARIYUM

BANGLADESH

“I stopped wearing the dark glasses I used to wear. When


I attended a cultural function at school, someone told me that I
look like a normal girl when I wear glasses. I then asked: ‘Without
glasses do I look abnormal’? People like to hide what they are
missing. I have nothing to hide. I can’t see and that doesn’t cause
me any pain. I have never seen anything in my life other than by
feeling or touching or hearing. I am alert to any presence and
can feel things around me. I have developed this sense since
childhood. Now I read in class six. I want to reach the rank of
policy maker. You can’t make anyone feel someone’s struggle.
Only if one of us, someone lacking physical ability, reaches the
highest rank of government will people say that a blind girl like
me is as normal as any other human being” - Mariyum (16).

F A B E H A M O N I R
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G A R A G E R O K AYA

DAKAR, SÉNÉGAL

Rokhaya is 20 years old. She has dreamed of


becoming a mechanic since she was a child. In
Senegal, this profession is overwhelmingly male
and it is frowned upon to be a female mechanic.
Rokhaya doesn’t care. She found an internship at
Femme Auto, a private garage in Dakar, as a woman
founded it. Rokhaya learns how to repair vehicles
there. Half the people working in the garage are
women and everyone works together. ĪI already knew
this place when I started my studies. I was thinking
about it and it gave me the courage to continue,ĩ
she explains, her head in an engine. In Senegal, a
mechanic’s work is particularly difficult: there is
almost no equipment to facilitate the tasks and
there is a lack of raw materials. It doesn’t matter to
Rokhaya who can’t see herself doing anything else.

P I E R R E G A U T H E R O N
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C H A PAT I

RADJASTHAN, INDIA

Rabari tribe dishes are usually very basic: chapatis (bread pan-
cakes) and dhal (lentil soup). Lakshmi is cooking chapatis for
lunch. Her son Divak, 2 years old, is quietly lying on her. She wears
a gold ring in her nostril and large white plastic bracelets that
completely cover her arms, from elbow to shoulder, a sign that
she is married. Rabari women are limited in their ability to speak to
their own family through very strict rules of decency, and are also
forbidden to sit on chairs. Their days are divided between the en-
dless task of making chapatis for the whole family, collecting water
and wood and sweeping the yard. Rabaris lead a simple existence
that meets the basic needs of everyday life but always with great
dignity never showing their poverty or their desire for materialism.

V A L É R I E L É O N A R D
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B O X I N G T O M I G R AT E

TUNIS, TUNISIA

Every evening in the heart of Tunis’ medina, the Nasria Medina


boxing club opens its doors for the daily traditional training
session inside an old colonial building. A young boy comes up
to me and says, ĪI want to be a hero too, here there is no hope,
I want to succeed and leaveĩ. I look away for a few moments
and the child is already in front of the master ready to honor
his passion with dignity, his mind already filled with dreams
of glory. In front of him, with his eyes fixed on his face, the
teacher teaches him how to warm up. Boxing is really still
the hope of getting out of poverty and maybe becoming
a success on the other side of the Mediterranean sea.

J A C Q U E S P I O N
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IDOMENI

IDOMENI, GREECE

Idomeni, a small village on the Greek-Macedonian border, has


the highest concentration of humans on the road to Europe.
Before the famous takeover on Wednesday 9th December
2015, between 4,000 and 6,000 people lived there in makeshift
tents next to Europe’s new barbed wire border, waiting to cross
it. In the evening, under the halos of sodium street lights
that illuminate the railway tracks, human shadows emerge
from their tents and head towards the distribution points for
food and hot drinks. Overnight, this camp was emptied of
all its occupants. Under police supervision, migrants mainly
from sub-Saharan and Northwest Africa are sent directly to
these famous ĪHotspotsĩ set up late 2015 by the European
Community near Athens. There is no more hope in Idomeni.

J A C Q U E S P I O N
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BLACKSMITH MALI

BAMAKO, MALI

Seydou is a blacksmith from Bamako. In Mali, blacksmiths are


part of a caste. Their role is prominent in Malian society, they act
as mediators in the event of conflict. One day, I passed a workshop
where men were melting metal. One of them saw my camera and
immediately attacked me. He was ready to hit me when Seydou,
whom I didn’t know yet, pulled me by the shoulder and ordered
me to sit on a truck tire that was lying in his workshop. Seydou
tried to comfort me by telling me that my attacker was drugged
but I knew he was lying. He then called a young boy and gave
him some money and asked him to go get something. The young
boy came back with a bottle of coke and orange juice for me. I
wanted to pay Seydou back, but he refused categorically. He told
me Īyou don’t make a white woman cryĩ. My tears at that moment
were for him. Seydou who only earns $8 a day never drinks coke
cola, he can’t afford it was a wonderful lesson in generosity.

V A L É R I E L É O N A R D
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SANDY

L A U Z E R T E , TA R N E T G A R O N N E , F R A N C E

Women farmers have a special status. Sandy often


says so. It is hard for them to establish themselves and
especially to stay, to continue, to be taken seriously.
Sandy works on the farm every day with her husband in
Lauzerte in the Tarn et Garonne region of France. After
acquiring her parents’ holding 10 years ago, she tries every
day to blend her life as a woman, a mother and a farmer.
Reconciling daily concerns and dreams, it is above all
her love of the job and its repetitive movements, that are
sometimes tough but precise, that shape her body and
spirit. Sandy is sometimes tired, but alive and laughing,
and she never gives up on following her ambitions. It is a
matter of care too, of attention, while coping with the fast
pace and struggles. Sandy is a fighter, a woman farmer.

M A H E E L I P E
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THE PERFECT MOOD

KOULIKORO, MALI

Koulikoro, where divers collect sand from the bottom of the


Niger River. Women carry the gravel on their heads in buckets
from the canoes, walking skilfully to the shore. Despite the work
that never stops and the heavy loads they carry, women are
always in a good mood. No machines, no automation, everything
is done by hand. Everyone works ten hours a day, six days a
week, for four Euros a day. Sand extraction Īdivingĩ can be very
dangerous, especially during flood periods. Divers go to the
bottom of the river, regardless of depth. The dive may take 1 to
3 minutes. Sometimes the rope, which serves as a means of
communication between the diver and the surface, breaks or is
mysteriously abandoned by his teammates, causing the diver’s
death. It is said that sand collectors have lucky charms to protect
them against the ĪBafaroĩ, the evil river spirit. Fatoumata told me
one day, Īmy brother drowned last year, the water demon took
him and his legs were paralyzed when he dived. My family went
to see the marabout and we are now protected from the Bafaroĩ.

V A L É R I E L É O N A R D
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TA N N E RY F E Z

FEZ, MOROCCO

On the roofs of the Chouara Tannery in Morocco, a porter brings


the skins from the pools. He climbs the high steps to the tannery
roofs in order to lay out the skins. I can hear his breath from afar.
Between two convoys of this exhausting work, we share a smile,
a handshake and an assalamu alaykum. After a moment, he
takes a break with me and tells me this local adage: ĪDar dbagh,
dar dhabĩ, the tannery is a goldmine. As with many tanners in
Fez, he learnt the job from his father and is very proud to work
here. Yet, his eyes and his body seem to tell me something
else. Is he tired of his life? I dare not ask him: it is probably a
complete fabrication on my part. But, when he starts his
work again and I take this photo and feel a painful loneliness.

A R T H U R T H O U R E T
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BIAFO BIENVENUE KAPÉ

B E R B É R AT I , C E N T R A L A F R I C A N R E P U B L I C

The midday heat is overwhelming. Under the shade of a tree,


Biafo Bienvenue Kapé is busy stripping long branches. This
Central African man weaves small rattan stools of different
sizes. They are also used to carry goods on the head and to carry
fruit, vegetables and dried cassava from street vendors. Aged
37, Biafo Bienvenue sells about 4 stools per day: the smallest
stool sells for 250 CFA francs (0.43 USD) and the largest for 1000
CFA francs (1.72 USD). This barely allows him to cover the food
needs of a family with 6 children. In recent decades, successive
political and military crises have led to a deep discontinuity
in Central African Republic’s growth. Since December 2013,
more than 400,000 internally displaced persons have been
living in precarious conditions, and as many are refugees in
neighbouring countries. Today, 76% of the population suffers
from multidimensional poverty. The Central African Republic
is among the poorest of the least developed countries.

C A M I L L E D E L B O S
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HAMMAM

TUNIS, TUNISIA

Er-Remmimi hammam in the suburbs of Tunis is very old and


traditional. When you sit in a row in the hot room, feet in a basin
waiting to be washed and massaged, you can hear the whirlwind
of conversations and the rale of the customers in the dome who
pass into the hands of the masseurs. Masseurs who wish to do this
job are increasingly rare. Today only Djamel and Nordine still work
regularly for men. In their hands you will feel brutally rejuvenated
while they relieve you of a thick layer of grime stuck to your skin.
And they will often make you wince while singing and dancing,
loofah in hand and arms outstretched to your ligaments. In the
past there were almost twelve Tayebs, now there are only two!

J A C Q U E S P I O N
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N O S TA L G I A F O R A S U P E R C O M P U T E R

TVER, RUSSIA

“Yes, the world’s changed a lot. The phone I have in my pocket


now can do more than the supercomputer I worked on in the
seventies. That one took up a whole floor. We’d have needed two
trailers worth of storage units to store as much as this USB drive
my son gave me.” So says Stepan Valerevich Kalashnikov, a former
Soviet computer engineer who now supervises the physics lab at
Tver Technical University. He tells us his story whenever he comes
in for a cappuccino at this cafe near the university. While he never
seems to get bored, what keeps us interested is his obvious
nostalgia for those bygone days and his great love for the work
he used to do. For this reason – and to pay tribute to those happy
years – I decided to take this photo using an old analogue camera.

M O H A M M A D M O N T H E R M O M A N I
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RAHJAN THE ELEPHANT

ANDAMAN ISLANDS, INDIA

This elephant is 61 years old and his name is


Rahjan. He is the last elephant to swim in the
sea. His unusual pose in this photo is the one he
strikes to enable his mahout (master) to climb on
his back. The islands, located in the eastern Bay of
Bengal, are almost entirely covered in lush tropi-
cal rainforest and have nurtured a sizable logging
industry since the colonial era. In 1893, The Briti-
sh were quick to note the commercial potential of
the islands for the trade in wood. They decided to
bring elephants over from the mainland to help with
timber extraction. At the time, limited infrastruc-
ture on the islands meant that the cheapest and
most efficient way to get elephants from island to
island was to make them swim. Thus, the swimmi-
ng elephants of Andaman and Nicobar were born.

V A L É R I E L É O N A R D
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P O TAT O F I E L D B O Y

T E G U C I G A L PA , H O N D U R A S

If this boy doesn’t help his parents, they’ll be forced to take on


other workers – and this is a financial burden the family would not
be able to bear. Kevin Joel Paz Gómez works on a potato farm in
Valle de Azacualpa, 200km west of the Honduran capital of Tegu-
cigalpa. Kevin is a victim of the child labour practices widespread
in Central America because of grinding poverty, violence and the
absence of suitable educational facilities. Despite efforts to alle-
viate the negative consequences for children, according to the
Ministry of Labour and Social Security the number of child labou-
rers is rising. Current estimates say there are 435,000 of them,
74.4% of them boys, with most of them (68%) living in rural areas.

D É L M E R M E M B R E Ñ O
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THE FROG HUNTER

S I E M R E A P, C A M B O D I A

Cambodia is now one of the poorest countries in


the world: 35% of the population lives below the
poverty line, 92% are located in rural areas. Seth,
14, is a frog hunter. He goes into the jungle everyday
searching for big frogs. He dives into ponds to catch
small frogs, which he uses to lure big frogs hidden
in the bushes. His parents are rice farmers and
don’t have enough money to buy meat. Seth brings
a few frogs to his family daily, which will make up
for the lack of protein. One day I went with him to
the jungle to see how he managed to catch frogs.
I went to the pond with him. I was immersed up to my
shoulders and I took this picture when he was rising
out of the water with duckweed still hanging off him.

V A L É R I E L É O N A R D
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L A K E V I C T O R I A WAT E R C O L L E C T I O N

BUNJAKO ISLAND, UGANDA

Uganda has abundant water resources. The country enjoys a favourable


geographical position as 98% of the national territory belongs to the Nile
basin. However, the country is significantly underdeveloped in terms of
resource exploitation and, consequently, access to water and sanitation. The
various international partners have made the water sector in Uganda one of
their priorities, but it remains centred around the capital. In rural areas, only
67% of inhabitants have access to water. In some isolated areas such as
on Bunjako Island, the climate is particular and favourable to some unusual
crops in Uganda. The population living there does not however have regular
access to water. Like this young girl who fills the inevitable yellow canister.
One of the easiest sources is to draw directly from Lake Victoria, although
some experts believe its quality is becoming alarming. Uganda is among the
15% of the least developed countries in the UN Human Development Index.

C A M I L L E D E L B O S
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SHIRT FROM THE BOMBING

QANA, LEBANON

“It was one hour after midnight when an Israeli plane bombarded
the house and I fainted. They carried me, thinking that I was
dead. They wanted to put me in a coffin at night but there
were a lot of air strikes and bombings, which forced them to
wait until the following day. I was four years old. The situation
resumed until dawn and a few hours later the same man who
placed me down here came back and saw I was alive. I later
found out that my sister had become a martyr. I still remember
every single thing about it. I still have all her belongings, even
the shirt she was wearing before she was killed. Even though
I was only four years old, I can still recall all the faces, even
the color of the blanket they wanted to wrap me in. None of
my friends survived, they were all killed”. - Hasan Shalhoub.

R A W A N M A Z E H
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M A B R O U K A’ S B U R N S

N O U A K C H O T T, M A U R I T A N I A

ĪMabrouka, 20, was taken away from her mother - also a slave
- when she was still a child, to serve a family in the Rosso area.
She is a victim of forced labor and abuse. At around the age
of 11, when she was cooking for her masters, her left arm was
seriously burned. She still suffers from the pain as it was badly
treated. Mabrouka was released in 2011 at the age of 14 and was
never able to go to school. She got married at the age of 16 and is
now the mother of Meriem, 4 years old and Khadi, 2 months oldĩ.

S E I F K O U S M A T E
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BLUE HAND

KASHAN, IRAN

Kashan - a shop in the Great Bazaar. Threads of


all colors surround two old men. I enter, and Reza
shows me his blue hands: I ask him if I can take a
photograph. With a mischievous air, he closes the
shop and tells me to follow him. Without delay! He
opens a new door and we are in a fabric warehouse.
Two ladders are immediately up set up to a skylight.
Reza climbs quickly. I struggle to follow him. We
are on the rooftop of the bazaar. Reza weaves in
and out of the domes. Blue threads are hanging
in a corner. They are the reason why his hands are
blue. Now, he lets me take a photo of them. Reza
is laughing. it was a good joke! Then, in the blink of
an eye, he hurtles down the ladder. I go back down.
Reza has already gone. But the photos remain.

A R T H U R T H O U R E T
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S H AV I N G R O U T I N E

TA J I K I S TA N

Wind, sun, dust all around, thousands of mosquitoes busy


trying to bite you and a couple of mud brick houses summarize
the scene. How the hell did I get here? Simply by being stuck
in Murghab, an even more lunar town. It’s actually one of the
main places on the M41, the main road in Tajikistan toward the
Kyrgyz border. Actually, I couldn’t find a car to cross the border to
reach Kyrgyzstan and decided to take a look at the surroundings.
A “quickĩ drive with a marshrutka (a Russian style shared taxi),
followed by an invitation from a Muslim Kyrgyz to break the
fast at his house and spend the night there, and I found myself
in Rangkul! Nothing special except for the kindness of our
hosts who made this little trip a good experience. I’m always
moved to see how people open their doors so easily and share
their daily life with you. Even their beautiful shaving routine.

C A M I L L E D E L B O S
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M Y S T R E E T, M Y I D E N T I T Y

ADDIS ABABA, ETHIOPIA

“My name is Wuld Nijato, and I’m a street pedlar from Addis
Ababa. People come and go, shops open and close, and time
flies by, but I’ve been rooted in this spot for 35 years. Is it the
perfume? Is it the people? Or has the place I work gradually
become a place I feel at home? Over the years I’ve earnt the
respect of the other people who ply their trade on this street. I
feel a sense of importance in my place and in my work. When
I sell a child a sweet and see the joy on their face, it makes
me really happy. I think of it as my reward. Working here on the
streets of Piazza, I’ve taught myself how to repair watches. Now
it’s my favourite job. People tell me I should try something else,
move somewhere else, but I won’t do it. This place is my identity.”

I M R A N M A Z H A R
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DELHI METRO

NEW DELHI, INDIA

Sandeep insists: “you must see the New Delhi Metro!” I forget
rickshaws and taxis and follow his advice. The metro is the pride
of the capital and runs counter to Indian stereotypes. Stations
and coaches are very clean with air conditioning and the rules are
respected. Sandeep laughs while telling me this new local proverb:
“In Delhi, only the metro is never late.” The Parisian subway
definitely pales in comparison! The metro was a revolution for
the city and the country. Even though air pollution is still a major
problem, it has reduced traffic. Full of optimism, I arrive at Rajiv
Chowk metro station. It is rush hour. Every three minutes, hundreds
of humans leave the metro while others step into the breach.
I am in an amazing hive with an ordered and magical chaos.

A R T H U R T H O U R E T
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BIMBO WITCHCRAFT

BIMBO, CENTRAL AFRICAN REPUBLIC

The prison in Bimbo, Central African Republic holds around 50


female prisoners, a third of whom are currently incarcerated
for acts of witchcraft. Witchcraft is registered in the penal code
and it is possible to end up in prison as a result of a simple
declaration by neighbours. At 77 years old, Monique has been in
prison for two months for witchcraft. A neighbour, who married
her daughter, accused her of casting a spell on him resulting in
gastric disease. Since then, he has been cured but she is still in
prison. The majority of cases are under investigation and some
women no longer even know how long they have been in prison.
Some women live with their children in cells because no one wants
to keep their children and once they leave, most of them tell us
that they will not be able to return to their respective villages.

C H R I S T O P H E D A S I L V A
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WADI RUM HOT SPOT

WA D I R U M , J O R DA N

The present village of Rum was initially the gathering place


for Bedouins who came to fetch spring water. It was the only
long-lasting spring in a several hundred-kilometre area. Today
the region has changed greatly: rock, sand, but also concrete
cohabit. Pastoral activities and nomadic trade gave way to
international tourism some thirty years ago. Bedouins have
settled down, 4x4s are now replacing camels. Some, like Nasser
(left) and Brahim continue to pass down what remains of the
nomadic spirit, the heavy silence of the desert and their link with
the anthracite, ivory and carmine-coloured stone cathedrals.
Lined up on the rock, the Bedouin’s’ mobile phones can
access a network in this exact spot (and only here, I checked!).
They are waiting for a call from the host cooperative to take
tourists looking for a desert experience on the back of a camel.

C A M I L L E D E L B O S
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BRICK BOY

BANGLADESH

“I don’t know how to tell the time. I will return home when
it gets dark. Our work starts at midnight. This place is not
bad. At least we have our own temporary hut. We lost
our home in the river years ago. We had nowhere to go.
When the brickfield is under water during the monsoon,
we go to the village and take free work at people’s houses
in return for food and shelter. All my family members go
to different places. We miss each other very much. This
work is hard, my mother can’t breathe at night, but this
is the only work that keeps us altogether. Usually I dry
1000 bricks every day or carry bricks. Now it’s the lunch
break, I am collecting coal for cooking. I get 80 taka ($1)
daily, which is saved, along with my brothers & sisters.
We are saving to build our own home” - Shimu (10).

F A B E H A M O N I R
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WAT E R R E F I L L

MONGOLIA

Water. A vital resource for us all. The so-called developed


countries have a running water distribution network, water flows
directly from the tap. Others have inherited elaborate fountains
and systems like those still used in medinas. Some in arid
areas have to travel kilometers to access this basic resource.
This young Mongolian child will Īonlyĩ have to pull the gallon
of water needed to run the household on his trolley for several
hundred meters. It is a daily task that remains unchanged for
this ancestrally nomadic people, despite a way of life that is
gradually becoming more sedentary. Their environment has
changed but some tasks remain the same. I wonder: is the
lifestyle they embrace more comfortable than the one they
leave behind? A very complex question with multiple answers.

C A M I L L E D E L B O S
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SEVENTH CHILD

BANGLADESH

Ratna (30), after an unsuccessful attempt at breastfeeding


her newborn. She is holding her seventh child. The newborn
fell asleep from exhaustion. Ratna gave birth to her first child
at the age of twelve. She is also a grandmother. To avoid
an unplanned pregnancy, Ratna tried home remedies for
miscarriages. Nothing worked. On her island it is shameful to
talk about birth control. No men in her community allow their
wives to take charge. Ratna thought she would die this time.
She had no help during childbirth. Her husband went fishing
three days earlier. She couldn’t go to work. Staying at home with
a newborn means starvation. Ratna’s young children do not
ask her about their father or the newborn. All they want is food.

F A B E H A M O N I R
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S A F I ATA

S O N G H / B U R K I N A FA S O

Safiata is a little girl from the village of Sonh in Oula Province,


Burkina Faso. She is very shy and when I approached her, she
didn’t want me to shoot her portrait. She didn’t say no to me,
but I immediately understood that she was avoiding my gaze.
Safiata has three brothers and four sisters. Traditionally dressed,
she lives in a context where a young girl being open towards
a stranger is not acceptable. I quickly understood that she
was seeking approval from those around her to give me a nod
maybe. The village chief, who stayed beside me, called her father
and told him that his daughter could accompany me without
risk. I understand this modesty and that is why I decided that
I wouldn’t show Safiata’s face, even though it’s so beautiful...

J A C Q U E S P I O N
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BLACK HELL

JHARIA, INDIA

In the northeastern Indian state of Jharkhand, the Damodar Valley is a hell


on earth. Open-pit coal mines have replaced the forest. These mines have
been continuously active for over a century. Being cheaper than underground
mining, most mining is done in the open air. The extraction of the Īblack
diamondĩ, has destroyed fauna, flora, and changed the topography. Most trees
are only dry stumps and groundwater pollution prevents any cultivation. For
over eighty years, a huge underground fire has been burning, releasing huge
amounts of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere. All efforts to extinguish
it have been in vain. Wherever you look, there’s a coalmine. Every day, the
people of Jharia collect coal left on the ground to sell on the black market
and support their families. In the suffocating hostility of this environment
a poverty-stricken people sacrificed to the economic development of
India, works and survives despite the many diseases caused by the toxic
atmosphere. People who live in smoke and toxic fumes that constantly
escape from the ground have a considerably shorter life expectancy.

V A L É R I E L É O N A R D
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IMRAN

K A L A S H V A L L E Y, P A K I S T A N

Imran lives in a remote valley of the Hindu Kush in Pakistan, a few hundred metres from the Afghan
border in Nuristan Province. Given his clothing and the pakol (felt hat), one could easily confuse him for
a Pashtun. Yet it is here that the 4000-year old Kalash ethnic group lives, which, despite converting to
Islam, has preserved its culture through isolation and respect for its traditions. Against all odds, despite
the remoteness of this people, Imran has travelled quite a bit, speaks English relatively well and is a
very cultivated man who has a fairly lucid vision of the world and his ethnic group’s complex future.
He told me about his language, their 13-month solar calendar, the celebrations and their disappearance
for security reasons, the Bashali - the house reserved for women during lochia and menstruation, the
Jilga the judicial system run by the elders, his many readings of the entire Bible, as well as Hindu texts
and he listed many similarities between their faith and Islam. ĪBut the situation is changing, men no
longer wear traditional clothes [only women are the guardians of this cultural aspect] and the lack of
agricultural land prevents transmission to boys and girls in a fair way [preference being given to boys]”.
There are only 4,000 to 6,000 Kalash still living in the valley, compared to roughly 40,000 in 1950.

C A M I L L E D E L B O S
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C RY S TA L P O R T

S A N TA R O S A L I A , B A J A C A L I F O R N I A , M E X I C O

When fatigue and pain affect physical abilities, the vast majority of squid fi-
shermen smoke methamphetamine at work in Santa Rosalia, Baja California,
Mexico. They must fish exactly one ton per man. They will only be paid when
they have filled the small boat. One ton a day is a lot, but the pressure from the
mainly Chinese, Korean and Spanish buyers, who impose quotas and prices,
as well as the need for these fishermen to survive, leave them with no choice.
The molluscs are brought to the surface by hand. This work feels like fishing
from another age. As the hours go by, the pace slows and cramp paralyzes
their fingers. When it is difficult to be physically active, many give up and find
comfort and energy in methamphetamines. But today, they will not go fishing.
The Chinese company imposing quotas does not need squid. Due to work, drug
use has become daily. Roberto has just heard the news he won’t take to sea today.
He starts pinching his neck; addiction and withdrawal are beginning to be felt.

F A B I E N D U P O U X
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THE LAST GUAQUEROS

B O YA C A , C O L O M B I A

The lands of Boyaca are renowned for their emerald mines, and
the historic village of Chacaro is a descendent of this Green
war. American and Canadian factories purchased all the mines.
The deal was struck between these factories and the govern-
ment without the agreement of the people living in this zone.
In response to this, many communities have continued searching
for emeralds illegally in the nearby mountains. They are called
Īguaquerosĩ. Every day they go down tunnels they have dug,
in temperatures of up to 40 ° C. Ernesto, 45, says “It’s a job you do
as soon as you’re a kid, every miner goes down the mine with the
same dream of finding the biggest stone.ĩ In the photo, the mi-
ners have just come out of the tunnel, they must rinse whole bags
of minerals they bring back from the mine before sieving them
to extract the famous stone. It is physical work done by gene-
ration after generation, despite the permanent risk of collapse.

M A H E E L I P E
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T H E M O U N TA I N M A N A N D H I S B O O K S

KHARTOUM, SUDAN

I found him sitting on a mountain of books just behind


the run-down Unity High School, dressed in a green Sufi
jubbah. He was carefully re-binding a well-thumbed
book. I asked him where he was from, and he told me
he was originally from Jabal Awliya. He had come to the
city some twenty years before. Muhammad Youssef is a
bookbinder, and his workshop is a pavement in central
Khartoum open to passers-by. He sells used books
at a pittance. He remembers every book he has ever
sold or loaned. “They quickly find their way back to me,
my books,” he says. In fact, he sees himself more as
a library than a bookshop. And this mountain man is a
peaceable sort: life is short, he says, and nothing lasts.

K H A L I D S A R A J U D D I N A N D F A I Z A B U B A K R
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WAKHI BAKER

C H A P U R S A N V A L L E Y, P A K I S T A N

For several centuries, the Wakhi people have elected to live among raw
and beautiful valleys and rivers. They predominate in northern Chitral, in
the valleys of Ishkoman, Gojal and Hunza. The Wakhis content themselves
with meagre resources and a simple lifestyle associated with fierce
independence and pride, thus preserving their culture and traditions.
An unusual longevity is attributed to this people. They are an example
of living a harmonious life in one’s environment, even in very harsh and
landlocked areas. Surrounded by rocks, streams, towering mountains, they
maintain a special relationship with their greatest enemy and ally: nature.
They magically grow crops such as barley, wheat and apricots in this arid
environment. Thick or flat, bread is part of their staple food and occupies a
fundamental place in all seated rituals: welcoming guests for tea, at weddings,
and all meals of the day, supplemented with a little rice and vegetables.

C A M I L L E D E L B O S
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I M M I G R AT I O N H O O K S

FEZ, MOROCCO

Two migrants make steel hooks and prepare shoes to climb


the border fence between Europe and Africa. In 2014, Spain
established the fence and added a smaller mesh to stop
migrants climbing it with their bare hands. The migrants
created a special kit to climb the new fence. They have added
three bolts reinforced with metal sheets to their shoes, and
made steel hooks to catch faster. Thousands of migrants from
Sub-Saharan Africa leave their country in an attempt to reach
Europe. Those who don’t have the means to cross by sea, choose
to travel over ground through Ceuta or Melilla, two Spanish
enclaves in the north of Morocco. The migrants wait several
years to Ī boza ĩ - succeed in crossing the Spanish border -
living in camps hidden in the forest near the European border.

S E I F K O U S M A T E
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AURELIA, PROTECTOR OF THE EARTH

HONDURAS

Aurelia Martina Arzu is fifty years old and a member of the


Garifuna minority. In 1998, when Hurricane Mitch hit the small
village she calls home – Santa Rosa de Aguan, in northern
Honduras – she saw for herself the destruction wrought by global
warming. After the hurricane, Aurelia joined the Global Fund for
Women, a registered charity partnered with the Black Honduran
Brotherhood Organisation which works to encourage the Afro-
Caribbean Garifuna community to fight for their social, economic,
cultural and territorial rights. Aurelia quickly became a passionate
defender of the land that she inherited from her ancestors. Climate
change now threatens forty-six Garifuna groups in Honduras,
mostly along the coast, with extinction. Through the organisation,
Aurelia has learnt how to fight for her people – and how to
protect them from the slavery widespread in Central America.

D É L M E R M E M B R E Ñ O
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FOR ONE POTOSI

POTOSI, BOLIVIA

In the 16th century, during Spanish colonization, the city of


Potosi in Bolivia was gigantic and had a population of no less
than 200,000. At the same time, Spanish aristocracy exploited
Potosi’s silver in very large quantities. It is estimated that millions
of slaves lost their lives in these mines to feed the waists of the
Spanish aristocracy. Today silver has lost its value and the global
market needs Zinc, which is used to manufacture roof covering
and gutters. Spain left and the miners organized themselves into
small cooperatives. ĪWhen you’re lucky, you come across a vein.
When you don’t find one, it’s more difficult.ĩ Ricardo believes
in his lucky star and we dig constantly. I do not own this Īveinĩ in
which I work, so I will be paid a percentage per kilo. The slavers
are gone, but the mine remains uncompromising with the miners.

F A B I E N D U P O U X
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KAGA BANDORO

CENTRAL AFRICAN REPUBLIC

Sheila lives in the IDP camp near the hospital In Kaga Bandoro in
central CAR. She prepares Īgozoĩ, a cassava-based dish. Sheila
and her 3 children eat only one meal a day and her son, who is
suffering from malaria, has been hospitalized for a week. Part of
the hospital is set aside so that families waiting for their children
to be treated by ICRC teams can cook. Since the September 2016
attack, the camp has not stopped growing in population and the
city’s airstrip is now closed because there are too many refugees.
In this region, armed conflicts force families to gather in camps
several thousand people strong and regular interventions by
armed groups prevent communities from establishing a stable
agro-economy and food and humanitarian needs are enormous.

C H R I S T O P H E D A S I L V A
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A LABORIOUS LIVING

M A’A N , J O R D A N

Yasser has spent 27 years working in a quarry deep in the


Jordanian desert, hauling slabs of stone for tiny sums of money.
His family knows almost nothing about his work, other than that
he barely makes enough to make ends meet. The slabs could
easily be lifted mechanically onto the trucks that take them the
220km from the quarry to the Jordanian capital of Amman, but
quarry owners prefer for them to be loaded by hand. This type
of stone is very valuable and a favourite of wealthy renovators
looking to add fashionable facades to their homes, and workers
like Yasser can make sure that it is not cracked or damaged.
According to civil society organisations labour violations are
very common in Yasser’s industry. But at 46 years of age he has
little alternative. He believes he is too old to learn a new trade.

E Z Z E L D E E N A L- N A T O U R
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THE LAND CHIEF

R I G U I , O U L A , B U R K I N A FA S O

Savadogo Vadogo is the land chief of Rigui village located in


the Oula region of northeast Burkina Faso. He is an extremely
respected character and difficult to convince to be photographed.
The land chief plays a fundamental role in village life. He is the
direct descendant of the founder of the place, the daily guarantor of
everyone’s rights on the land and arbitrator of all conflicts without
state intervention. He is a kind of justice of the peace whose power
is based on the tradition of ancestral customs. After two hours
of discussion, the village chief agreed to send for the land chief,
who lives a little outside the village. He introduced himself to me,
majestic, dressed in his most beautiful clothes, with a proud and
respectful look. I would long remember this very intense moment.

J A C Q U E S P I O N
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BEDOUIN ON A DONKEY

R A S H A D I YA H , J O R D A N

On my way back from a photo session, I came


across Yassin, a friendly Bedouin and his donkey
modestly named… ĪDonkeyĩ. He was on his way to
get supplies at the nearest village, Rashadiyah,
near the Dana valley in central Jordan. Eager
to share his lifestyle he showed me a well and
mimed how he gets water from it. Then he insisted
I ride his donkey but I was saved by a ringtone.
He put his hand in his djellaba and pulled out his
phone. Even though I travel a lot documenting
several ethnic groups, I apparently still have
some misconceptions: yes, why should a Bedouin
living in the middle of nowhere not have a phone?

C A M I L L E D E L B O S
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F L O AT I N G V I L L A G E

GANVIÉ, BENIN

This fisherman is sailing back to his house on Lake Nokoué in Benin. The
whole village is raised on wooden stilts. According to legend the Fon warriors
kidnapped people from other tribes in the 18th century to sell them as slaves
to the Portuguese. In order to escape, the king of the Tofinu tribe decided
to leave the shore of the lake and settle in the middle of it. The Fon people
believed there were evil spirits in the water and never came after the tribe
again. Since then, the village has thrived and its people are at peace. It has
schools, churches and restaurants. Their main income comes from the fish
that they sell in the villages on the shore. Solar panels and generators produce
electricity, so the village is almost entirely self-sufficient. Nokoué’s water
is currently under threat due to the lack of a sewage system and pollution
coming from the capital nearby. But forces are coming together to protect
its biodiversity. It is not a coincidence that “Ganvié” means “We survived”.

A L I S H A V A N B E V E R
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DOGU EKSPRESI

BETWEEN ANKARA AND KARS, TURKEY

In the middle of the Anatolian plateau, sunrise hits the train


windows and dazzles a woman contemplating the beauty of the
landscapes. The Eastern Express (Dogu Ekspresi in Turkish) is
an overnight train from Ankara to Kars, a city in eastern Turkey.
The journey lasts approximately 25 hours. This route along the
mountains has become popular among travellers seeking new
adventure by undertaking a 1310-kilometer journey. Passengers
enjoy this nostalgic ride across unexplored areas of Turkey. It’s
a unique experience that gives them the opportunity to meet
new people, and even to hold parties in the compartments.
There is also a tradition of ordering a kebab on the train, which
is delivered at Erzurum station. People enjoy every moment of
this special trip before arriving at their final destination close to
Ani. It’s a historical site with ruins from an Armenian kingdom.

M A R I E T I H O N
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DAAI WOMAN

M YA N M A R

In the Chin Mountains in Myanmar, there are five tribes


(Muun, Daai, Yin Duu, Uppriu, and Ngagah) living far
removed from the modern world. The distinctive feature
of these tribal women is their thousand-year old tradition
of tattooing their faces. The government officially banned
this ritual in the 1960s. According to legend, a Burmese
king once traveled to the remote hill regions of Chin state,
which was known for its beautiful women. The King then
brought a Chin girl back to his palace and made her his
wife. The girl, desperate and unhappy with this situation,
finally managed to escape and tried to make her way
back home, fearful that the king would capture her
again. In order not to be caught she disguised herself
by making incisions in her beautiful face using a knife.

S E I F K O U S M A T E
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DJEBEL

OULED M’HALLA, ALGERIA

“Djak’, if you earn millions of dollars with the photos, promise


to buy me a new suit!ĩ Rabah Bouziad was born in 1948 in
Djebel Ouled M’Halla, a small village located less than 10 km
from the town of Ksar El Abtal - Wilaya of Setif. Rabah has
never left his birth region. His life is very simple in the middle
of the djebel, a life marked by the cycle of the sun and the
modest meals prepared every morning and evening by Bibihya,
his wife. His only luxury is a small black and white television
and 2 suit jackets branded Īseven daysĩ that he proudly wears
when taking his sheep to graze in the mountains. It’s 5 am, the
sun rises and the first scent of thyme carried by the morning
breeze sounding the hour of departure! Djebel, Ô my Djebel…

J A C Q U E S P I O N
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ABDULLAH AL KURD: A GLOBAL BROTHERHOOD OF MUSIC

TA N G I E R , M O R O C C O

Dark-skinned and blue-eyed, Abdullah Al Kurd’s curious colouring always


leads to questions about his background. Abdullah is a master of gnaoua
bahriya, a distinctive style of music native to the Moroccan coast. At the
sessions he holds every day at a Sufi lodge opposite Bab Al Marsa in Old
Tangier, devotees smoking traditional sebsi pipes attempt to achieve t’hayyur
– the trance-like state at the heart of the gnaoua tradition – and train for
concerts at home and abroad. In 1967, a chance meeting brought Abdullah
together with American jazz legend Randy Weston, who had come to Tangier
as part of a US cultural delegation. Together they produced a unique musical
fusion of jazz and gnaoua, and for Abdullah this marked the beginning of a
lifelong project to “rehabilitate” gnawa’s occult image in Morocco while forging
connections with like-minded spirits from Africa and beyond. He has had a
clear influence on the famous Essouaira Gnaoua Festival, which features an
eclectic mixture of funk, blues, jazz and soul alongside traditional local music.

W E S A L A L- S H A I K H
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I FEEL FREE!

J E R U S A L E M , PA L E S T I N E

ĪThis is my life. I can’t go 3 meters without doing this ĩ. Sami,


21, created the first Palestinian Parkour team in 2008 after
watching the French movie Ī Banlieue 13ĩ. Ī I feel free when I’m
doing it, I can easily pass all the obstacles in my way ĩ adds
Sami before jumping in the air. Parkour Īis the art of expressing
oneself in your environment without limitation of movementĩ.
Little known, Parkour was officially invented in France in the
1990s by David Belle, and became a more acrobatic freestyle
discipline known as Ī free running ĩin 2004. In Jerusalem, Sami
and his friends, Jihad and Mohamad, practice free running
above the streets of the old market, on the walls of the old city:
in every corner possible for their back flips. More than a sport,
free running allows them to escape the reality of their lives, to
be free to move and to go wherever they want without being
hindered. The situation is very different in their everyday lives.

C O N S T A N C E D E C O R D E
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W O M E N TA L K I N G I N A H U T O N G

BEIJING, CHINA

Beijing’s hutong neighbourhoods are most famous for


their distinctive traditional houses, some of which date
back to the 13th century. But this area is also home to
a venerable local culture, a culture kept alive by older
residents even today. The regular mah-jong sessions of
the women in this picture help preserve this important
piece of local heritage despite the hectic pace of life in
modern China. The gulf separating different generations
of Beijingers is visible in the stark difference between
the traditional hutong houses and modern apartment
buildings. Younger people have very different lives and
prefer to live in neighbourhoods with Wi-Fi and other
modern facilities. But these ladies don’t need the internet
to keep in touch with one another or with their culture.

I M R A N M A Z H A R
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STEP WELL

RAJASTHAN, INDIA

In northwest India, water is a real issue. At the edge of


the Thar Desert, the area suffers torrential monsoons and
then sees the water disappear almost immediately. In the
first century BC, the slippery shores of major rivers were
filled in by the construction of ghats, long, shallow sets
of stairs and platforms. The same approach has been
applied to the construction of a new type of well. The use
of step wells began to decline during the British Empire
in India. The English were horrified by the unhealthy
conditions of the stagnant drinking water where people
washed. They started installing pumps and pipes, finally
banning the use of step wells in a few places. Those that
remain are in various states of conservation. Some have
even completely dried up. Local children enjoy the last
wells filled with water and turn them into diving sites.

V A L É R I E L É O N A R D
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G I R M A : A S I N G L E FAT H E R

ADDIS ABABA, ETHIOPIA

After a long day as a domestic security guard, Biruk


Girma unwinds by braiding his daughter Yasbira’s
hair. Yasbira’s mother abandoned her when she
was only forty days old, leaving Girma to play the
role of both parents. Although they own their living
space, it’s so small that there’s barely enough
room to move. Yasbira is now five and has started
going to school. Biruk is bringing her up on his own,
working hard to provide for her. Those close to the
family regularly tell him he should remarry so his
daughter can have a mother figure, but he rejects
these stereotypes. Instead he’s taken on all the
duties and responsibilities, hoping to show that
good parenting is not about having the right gender
but being selfless and loving unconditionally.

I M R A N M A Z H A R
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I N T E R N O R E S TA U R A N T

C A R TA G E N A , C O L O M B I A

The San Diego Women’s Prison is located in the historic


heart of Cartagena, a tourist town in northern Colombia. In
this overcrowded prison where violence reigns, the Interno
restaurant opened to the public in December 2016. The San
Diego Women’s Prison is a pioneer in social rehabilitation
and improvement of detention conditions. In addition to the
unique experience of eating gourmet dishes in prison cooked
and served by inmates, it enables the prisoners of San Diego
to benefit from ”segundas oportunidades” (second chances),
as displayed on the restaurant’s facade. For Paula, working as
a waitress in the prison offers her new future prospects thanks
to the knowledge acquired everyday. Thirty women work in the
restaurant, enabling them to reduce their prison sentence while
earning a salary. The rest of the profits from the restaurant
serve to improve the quality of life for the 180 inmates.

M A R I E T I H O N
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QASHQAI WEDDING

FA R S P R O V I N C E , I R A N

Nahid is getting ready to attend her cousin’s wedding. There will


be more than 200 guests. She told me that she couldn’t wait
to go to this wedding because she had been bored over the
last couple of months. Iran is a country of many people with
countless tribes. Although weddings in the cities increasingly
resemble those celebrated in the West, in some areas of Iran,
people still get married according to their own centuries-old
traditions. The Qashqai clan is one of the oldest and largest
tribes of Iran. Most Qashqai live in Fars Province, and many of
them speak Turkic languages. The Qashqai nomads take the
wedding seriously. Sometimes it lasts 4 to 5 days. Separate
dances are held for men and women. Dressed in beautiful
costumes, Qashqai women dance to their traditional music
and celebrate the wedding. I was honored to be invited.

V A L É R I E L É O N A R D
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NAR BEGUM

S H I M S H A L , PA K I S TA N

Nar Begum is one of the oldest shepherds still to reach the high plateaus of
Shimshal Pamir. Away from her village for 5 months at a time, she moves
to the summer pastures with her own animals as well as those of villagers
who can no longer go up or who are busy doing other work. Life is rough up
there in the stone huts. Wood does not exist at an altitude of 4500m and it
is necessary to adapt to the acrid smoke emanating from the stove, which
is essential to warm up after the wind blowing down from the glacier and to
prepare very basic food. In this pure but hostile environment, the weather is
capricious and the 4 seasons often play out in the same day. Social life is
reduced to sparse interaction with the few shepherdesses who, like her, still
go up for the grazing period, but pastoral activity and the early night leave
little time for entertainment. Nar Begum plays on his wooden jaw harp for
a few moments before whispering, ĪSome of my friends don’t have good
enough health to come, others have just gone forever. As for me, God knows!ĩ

C A M I L L E D E L B O S
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W O M E N I N AT L A S

AT L A S , M O R O C C O

I often go hiking in the mountains of the Atlas Mountains in


Morocco and each time, the beauty of the landscapes and the
gentle light overwhelm me. But if there is one thing I have to
remember; the kindness of the Berber people and their generosity.
I can no longer remember how many times I have been invited to
come and drink tea, or share a meal when I travel through a village.
That day I spent the night with Ahmed and his family in a remote
area around Jbel Saghrou. I still remember it was the beginning
of winter; I woke up early the next day to the smell of the wood
fire, it was still very cold, I followed that smell until I came upon
Ahmed’s wife with her baby on her back baking bread for breakfast.
This woman is like many others in these isolated regions, they
are hard workers and strong, but unfortunately they are also
the first to suffer from the region’s very tough living conditions.

S E I F K O U S M A T E
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SHADOW IN CHEFCHAOUEN

CHEFCHAOUEN, MOROCCO

6 a.m.: the alarm clock rings. I get out of my bed


and head into the streets of Chefchaouen, the
blue city of Morocco. It is empty. The town is still
sleeping. The hustle and bustle of the day is far
away. However, I can hear footsteps somewhere.
I speed up. A black shadow, an illusion caused by
a djellaba, weaves in and out of the walls. I follow a
ghost. It is the right time to press on my camera’s
shutter-release button. I look at the screen: I was
dreaming, he is just a man. Emerging from my
hallucination, I look up to call him. But he has
already disappeared. I am lost in Chefchaouen.

A R T H U R T H O U R E T
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IBRAHIM

WA S S O LO , M A L I

Ibrahim, 40, has been a traditional blacksmith for more than


30 years in a small village in Wassolo, Mali. He started at the
age of 10 with his father, who is also a blacksmith and naturally
took over his father’s job to perpetuate the tradition. Ibrahim
is the only blacksmith in the village and he is passionate
about it. “All the villagers come to me to repair their spades,
make a pickaxe or a plough.“ He works using a traditional
coal oven and a manual crank blower that he turns every
time he wants to increase the heat and soften the iron before
working it. His profession is vital and highly respected in this
farming village, which is why Ibrahim is also the village chief.

S E I F K O U S M A T E
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HILL OF SHOUTS

MAJDAL SHAMS, OCCUPIED GOLAN

For many years after the Golan Heights were occupied in 1967,
people waving handkerchiefs and using loudspeakers to call out
to their loved ones in Syria were a common sight on the ‘Shouting
Hill’ (Tallat Al Sihat) in Majdal Shams. But the practice became
rarer when phones and wireless technology found their way to the
Golan and disappeared entirely with the arrival of social media.
For many years no-one waved their handkerchief or stood peering
over the fence, awaiting a response from the other side. When
war returned to Syria, however, shouts were once again heard
on the Shouting Hill. When from time to time a communications
blackout strikes the Syrian side – especially when Druze villages
are being bombarded or clashes are taking place nearby – the
people of Majdal Shams will climb the hill to check on their
friends and relatives. Women will wait by the ceasefire line for
hours in the hope of hearing some good news from the other side.

J A L A M A R E I
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DON QUESTO

PORT SUDAN, SUDAN

Every year Mustafa embarks for 6 months on board the Don


Questo from Port Sudan. This former oceanographic ship,
converted into a scuba diving cruise ship, welcomes about
ten divers every week to discover the remarkable sites off the
Sudanese coast. Mustafa is the chef. He takes care of supplies
and manages 3 crew members. The sun has just set. Mustafa
ends his evening prayer and enters the kitchen to finish preparing
the fresh fish caught the night before by his teammates. Mustafa
knows how to make divers happy. It’s 8pm. In the distance we
can already hear the sound of the zodiac returning after the last
night dive on the site of the former Cousteau base. The table
is set and the dinner bell will soon ring for the pleasure of all.

J A C Q U E S P I O N
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BARBARA

PA L M I R A , C O LO M B I A

“People call us Los Duros (the strong ones)” says Barbara while
collecting heavy waste from a school in Palmira city in Southern
Colombia. Barbara is an inspiring entrepreneur; she created
Nucleo, a waste-recycling center in the village of Nashira. This
recycling project means a lot to Barbara, she sees it as the best
way to raise awareness in her community. She carries a lot of
waste every day from markets, schools, and shops to the center
to transform it into bags, wallets, plant pots, etc. Her aim is to
promote the idea that everything people use can be collected and
turned into something else. Nashira is an ecovillage run entirely
by women, most from low-income families, and many of whom
are single mothers as a result of the 52-year civil war. Nashira
provides free housing for vulnerable women and, like Barbara,
women there can make a living through their own business.

M A R I E T I H O N
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NOTHING BELONGS TO MAN EXCEPT HIS


EFFORTS

KOCHI, INDIA

I ran into this man, whose name I think was Zubeir,


on the streets of Kochi shortly after sunrise. Putting
aside the rickety bicycle he’d arrived on, he set about
writing this famous verse of the Qur’an on a nearby
wall followed by a long explanation of its meaning.
I didn’t want to interrupt him, so I left him to finish
his work while I took a few pictures from a distance.
I later found out that he’s been doing this for fifteen
years – going to different places around the city and
writing different verses along with explanations in
Hindi and English on boards of a similar size and
shape, using the city’s walls as a canvass to teach
people about the Qur’an. And his simple explanations
draw in Kochi’s many tourists, who can often be seen
inspecting his chalk murals with a clear curiosity.

B A S S E L M I S H A L
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A R G E N T I N A C A R N I VA L

CORRIENTES, ARGENTINA

A few hours from Brazil, Argentina celebrates the carnival with as much
enthusiasm as its neighbour. The celebration derives from a mix of a Christian
tradition that marks the end of winter, and samba tournaments originating
in West Africa. It has evolved into a competition between samba schools
with categories such as dance, costumes, or float decoration. The carnival
in Corrientes is particular in the fact that each member of the comparsa
(samba school) has to create his or her own costume and help make the
float. Families have been part of their comparsa for generations and the
feeling of belonging is as strong as to a soccer club. Children start taking
part from the age of three and their parents invest a large part of their
salaries in the costumes, as well as their time in rehearsals. In a desire to
make the celebration accessible to a maximum number of people, the
parade ends up in the streets of the city, followed by thousands of people.

A L I S H A V A N B E V E R
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AT L A S G I R LS

H I G H AT L A S , M O R O C C O

ĪIn our tradition, our daughters do not leave the village, they go
to school until the end of primary school and then help with
household chores until the day they get marriedĩ says the village
representative. In the photo, little girls can be seen learning the
Quran at the Quranic school in the village of Tizili. They dream
of their future but in a few years, most of them, if not all, will
leave school and start doing household chores until they get
married. Mountainous areas are home to more than 8 million
people, most of whom are living in dire conditions in more
than 10,000 small villages. Thousand-year-old villages suffer
from the harshness of winter, precarious social and economic
circumstances, and the growing effects of climate change.
And the first victims of this isolation are women and children.

S E I F K O U S M A T E
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SEFFARINE

FEZ, MOROCCO

An artisan working in Seffarine Square, Fes, Morocco. Around this


same square, you can find one of the oldest crafts: coppersmithing.
Masters and artisans make all kinds of goods to sell across Morocco
and beyond. Working copper and brass, the artisans of Seffarine
Square use centuries-old methods to make unique items such
as tajine pots, teapots, candleholders, bowls, utensils, and more.
Their craft is mystical and passed down through generations
from father to son. The square itself is located in front of the
world’s oldest library, which lends it an even greater atmosphere.
Rich in minerals, Morocco exploits mines in mountains across
the country to retrieve copper, which is transformed in Seffarine
Square. In 2018 alone, Morocco produced around 40,000 metric
tons of copper, over ten times the quantity produced in 2005.

S E I F K O U S M A T E
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ALICA GONANGA

CENTRAL AFRICAN REPUBLIC

She doesn’t know her age, but she’s definitely a grandmother! Alica Gonanga
is a Pygmy: one of these groups of hunter-gatherer-fishermen in Central
Africa who are now facing increasing insecurity and whose culture is
threatened. The major public health issues among Pygmies are alcoholism,
drugs, the geographical distance from health centres, poverty that prevents
them from accessing health and hygiene products and mistrust of modern
medicine. Poverty is explained by unpaid work among the Pygmy population
more prevalent than among other neighbouring villagers, as are human
rights abuses and violations against them. They were only granted the
right to vote in the Central African Republic in 2006, but the Pygmy people
are still not recognized as an indigenous people. Pygmies traditionally
practice a form of nomadic life and despite progressively settling, they still
possess highly important material knowledge of the forest and various
private actors and NGOs seek this vital expertise. They move between
temporary camps whose leaf huts are built by women such as Alica Gonanga.

C A M I L L E D E L B O S
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BORN IN FLOWERS

GUERRERO, MEXICO

Rufino Garcia has been growing the ĪAmapolaĩ poppy flower for
more than 50 years. It is a small source of opium whose gum
is used to make heroin. Although it is an illegal crop, many
farmers in southern Mexico’s remote mountains in the state
of Guerrero, have no choice but to grow it. Rolfino confides,
ĪI was born in flowers, I grew up in flowers and I will die in flowersĩ.
Despite a lack of financial means, difficult transport access,
a system of almost nonexistent health care and constant
insecurity, knowledge on how to grow the Amapola flower is
passed down from generation to generation. Just like Rufino,
these communities had to adapt to survive in breach of the law.

M A H E E L I P E
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BEDOUIN COFFEE

W A D I R U M D E S E R T, J O R D A N

More than just a drink, coffee plays a very important role in


Jordanian Bedouin interpersonal relations. Whether during
a mourning period or a religious holiday, coffee is a symbol
of hospitality. It holds a very special place when it comes to
business, weddings, family disputes or negotiations (peace or
war) coffee is used to endorse a deal. From Yemen, the caravans
passed through Aqaba. Coffee was shipped to Iraq and Iran
at first. Since pre-modern times, Bedouins have integrated
it into their culture. The roasted bean on a wood-fired stove
is ground with a “meshbash” (a stirring spoon) then mixed
with cardamom to finally be sweetened and boiled, offering
a strongly flavoured coffee. A symbol of trust and hospitality,
tradition involves 3 cups of coffee: the first for the soul, the
second for the sword and a third one as you are a guest.

C A M I L L E D E L B O S
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M E R C AT O : C H A O S A N D C O L O U R

ADDIS ABABA, ETHIOPIA

The Addis Mercato is the largest open-air market-


place in Africa, a visual feast of bright cinematic
colour. Its streets, packed with customers, go on as
far as the eye can see. You can buy almost anything
here, from household items to exotic spices. Berberi
(mixed spices), turmeric and tikur azmud (black ca-
raway) are all key ingredients in Ethiopian cooking.
Spices can be very pricey, but with a bit of haggling
you can always get the right goods at the right price.

I M R A N M A Z H A R
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PROFESSOR BUIU

S AO PA U LO , B R A Z I L

In São Paulo, Brazil, there are different Īcommunidadeĩ, a term


used by the inhabitants to describe the favelas where they live.
Conditions there are extremely tough. These people don’t have
access to basic rights (health care and education) as they don’t
have an official address. This leads to a situation where many
children become drug traffickers. But Professor Buiu has decided
to devote his life to educating the children in the communidade
through capoeira as it has helped him succeed. He is a model
for the children there, proof that there is another way to survive.
Professor Buiu and his team of students called Guaraùna, provide
capoeira classes everyday inside different communidade where
neither the government nor NGOs dare to go. Since 2010, more
than 300 children have stayed off the streets during the day,
received food, and found a new passion thanks to Buiu’s project.

M A R I E T I H O N
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MBORORO

CHAD

In the Batha region of Chad, the nomadic M’Bororo people travel


the country with their animals in communities. Each year the
transhumance route is marked by meteorological conditions and
the country’s sometimes-dangerous security conditions in the
Lake Chad region. Achta Adoum, 40, is part of this community,
and she and her family regularly settle on land that allows
animals to feed and drink. But since the great drought of the
1970s, water has become increasingly scarce. Achta tells me
Īthat animals provide less than a litre of milk a day whereas before
we could sell 3 times more milk. Not to mention the roadblocks
that prevent access to some of the more fertile areas, it is also
necessary to travel more kilometers to find a place to stop”.

C H R I S T O P H E D A S I L V A
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C H U R C H PA S T O R I N K I B E R A

N A I R O B I , K E N YA

ADC (African Divine Church) Pastor Kidaha stands at the front of


his church before the service, bible in hand. His 3-year old son,
Peter looks up in front of bible study books and his assistant,
Elias Omondi is behind. A large number of churches and
denominations have sprung up in Nairobi’s Kibera slum, allegedly
one of the most densely populated places on the planet.
Seventy-five percent of the population is under the age of 18 and
100,000 are orphaned children. Each of these churches provides
a slice of heaven in the form of hope, and some a slice of hell in
the form of deception and greed, of miracle workers demanding
extortionate fees for Īcuresĩ. Amidst the filth, insecurity and
uncertainty that are part of everyday life for those living in
Kibera, these churches provide relief, community and purpose,
and a safe place for children to get an education and play.

G E O R G I N A G O O D W I N
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TA N O U R A I N C A I R O

CAIRO, EGYPT

A swirl of color and brightness radiates in the historic district of


Khan El Khalili in Cairo. In a wakala dating from the 16th century,
dancers pay tribute to the Sufi tradition. Spiritual discipline from
the brotherhood of the whirling Dervishes founded by Djalâl
ad-Dîn Rûmî in Turkey, this dance is a show in Egypt. Called
Tanoura, the translation of the skirt in Turkish, the performance
is accomplished by professional dancers. Contrary to the Turkish
tradition where white prevails, the skirt is colorful with ornaments
from Islamic art. However, in spite of these differences, the
dancers also go into a trance: following the beat of the drum,
they spin round without stopping. In this state, they exemplify
the Rumi words: “Dance in the middle of the fighting”. When
the show is close to the end, the dancers seem to come
smoothly back to earth with a happy expression on their faces.

A R T H U R T H O U R E T
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A M A Z I G H C AV E S

SENED/GAFSA, TUNISIA

On our way to the Tunisian city of Gafsa, we stopped to ask a


local shopkeeper about a destination some 30km off the
main road – an Amazigh village called Sened. The trip felt
like a journey backwards in time. Sened is well-known for its
fruits and vegetables, but what makes it unique are the caves
(maghawir) carved into the mountainside that long served as
homes for its inhabitants. Some are still inhabited today. This
woman, who engaged us in conversation while we were taking
photos, told us that some 25 families live in the caves, of
whom she is the only one who still speaks Amazigh. The area
has seen steady depopulation, and within a few years may
be entirely empty thanks to a lack of government interest in
the region and its inhabitants. Falling fertility, desertification
and a lack of job opportunities are slowly driving them away.

S O F I A N E B A K O U R I
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KHADIJA IN KAGA

KAGA BANDORO, CENTRAL AFRICAN REPUBLIC

In December 2013, hundreds of thousands of people were forced


to flee their homes when violence broke out in the Central Afri-
can Republic (CAR). Today, more than 450,000 Central African
refugees still remain in Cameroon, Chad, the Democratic Repu-
blic of Congo and the Congo. Despite peaceful elections held
in February 2016, more than 415,000 people remain displaced.
This is the case for Kadija, a 10-year-old girl, who told me about
her journey since 2013, when her parents fled violence in Bangui
to Chad but their camp closed and they had to return to CAR.
Her parents were afraid and her mother was pregnant with her
youngest brother. Once there, her father learned that a member of
his family had been shot and that he had to go to his funeral in Bam-
bari. He left her mother behind and Kadija has had no news since.

C H R I S T O P H E D A S I L V A
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M A RYA M T H E WA K H I

U P P E R G O J A L , PA K I S TA N

There are approximately 85,000 Wakhi people, living mostly in


northern Pakistan, west of China, north-eastern Afghanistan and
south-eastern Tajikistan. Speaking wakhi, their own language,
they belong mostly to the Ismailia community. Today, in one
of the remote Pakistani valleys near Afghanistan, Maryam is
getting dressed for her traditional Wakhi wedding. At the top of
the frame in the background, the Ismailia spiritual leader looks
as if he is blessing her. Beliefs remain strong but traditions are
evolving in the valley. Wakhi people have often praised the high
education rate in the community, which probably has allowed
Maryam and her future husband, from the new generation, to
choose each other. The short ceremony will start soon at the
Jamatkhana, the place of worship. While the restricted ceremony
takes place, children will carry on the tradition by hiding the
groom‘s shoes. A few rupees will be enough to get them back!

C A M I L L E D E L B O S
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BEING A MONK

NAKHON PHANON, THAILAND

ĪAre you a man? Are you debt-free? Do you have your parents’
permission to become a monk?” Traditionally, boys become
monks for a period of time during adolescence to study and
promote the family’s karma. They must follow more than 200
rules of conduct, while ordinary Buddhists have only 5 (not killing,
stealing, lying, not having an unbridled sex life and not using
drugs). An ordinary day for a young monk begins around 4 a.m.
They pray for an hour and then go to the market to beg for food
for the only meal of the day. They live from handouts from others,
not being allowed to work. The monks, all dressed in the color
saffron on Thursday, Buddha’s Day, spend their days meditating,
praying and doing temple maintenance. Some join the Ī Sangha
ĩ for a few weeks, others will stay there for the rest of their lives.

J A C Q U E S P I O N
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OUSMANE DAKAR

DAKAR, SÉNÉGAL

Ousmane is Senegalese. He has lived in Dakar for several years


but his family has remained in Casamance, in the south of the
country. At 30 years old, he manages to support himself by
ensuring deliveries of all kinds. He often meets his friends who
have coffee on the beach at Les Mamelles and helps serve
customers. ĪIt’s hard for youth here. There’s nothing to do.
I hope that young people will come to power one day and make
a difference. Despite this, he was unable to obtain a voter
registration card for the last elections because the government
had difficulty distributing them correctly. ĪWe are lucky despite
everything, we have been a stable country for many years and
our ethnic communities are at peace. But this must not make
us forget how far the Senegalese people still have to go.ĩ

P I E R R E G A U T H E R O N
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0n[ò ‚¯ ı 0n¨±«n¯ n°p —t©t² Ît¥ ͆¢¥  ¢¨

MONKEY TEMPLE

H A M P I , K A R N ATA K A , I N D I A

Hanuman (the monkey god) is one of the most


popular and widely revered deities in India. This
popularity stems from his intermediate status, as
both god and servant. He is less distant and more
accessible to men. Another important factor is
that this accessibility is coupled with his ability
to protect those who invoke him. In the Karnataka
valley near Hampi, one of these temples is erected
on the mountainside. ĪVery rarely do we go down
the 500 stairs that separate us from the rest of
the world. Obviously we’re a little bored. We share a
great deal of our time with the monkeys who watch
over us.ĩ To see the complicity between the monks
and the monkeys gives the impression that the
deity of Hanuman is indeed present in these places.

F A B I E N D U P O U X
m±‚²p²…m’ ̤ƒ—

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TRANS-SIBERIAN

RUSSIA

When you enter the Trans-Siberian, you first see many pairs of
legs. If it is summer, a strong human smell emanates from the third
class. Welcome to this famous train. Since 1916, it has connected
Moscow to Vladivostok: 9288 kms in 6 days. Thinking about these
numbers before the departure can give you a feeling of vertigo.
People with claustrophobia who fear proximity to people should
choose to fly. Forget also the landscapes, they are almost the
same during the entire journey. To break this monotony, everyone
has his or her little trick. Crossword puzzles and books are the
most popular. Young people prefer their smart phones until their
battery gives up. Then, the book reigns again. As time goes by, the
travelers become a family. Naturally, food is offered, and cups of
tea are served. From Europe to Asia, people share the same life
in this compartment. That is probably why this train is legendary.

A R T H U R T H O U R E T
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ELIZA

N D E M A N G E , M A L AW I

Eliza, 14, is a pupil in a small village in northern Malawi who does not speak
English, despite it being the official language. In many parts of the world the
first victims of this exclusion are girls. According to UNESCO, 130 million girls
between the ages of 6 and 17 no longer attend school and 15 million girls
of primary-school age will never enter a classroom. Half of them are from
sub-Saharan Africa. This lack of access to education, especially amongst
the poorest and amongst girls is also apparent in Malawi. Malawi is one of
the most stable countries in Africa, but still one of the least developed in
the world. A total of 85% of those living in poverty live in rural areas, and
a higher percentage is women. As data from UNICEF shows, in Malawi
over 10 percent of school-aged children do not attend primary school.
Even though school fees, at least for primary school, were abolished in
1994, only 26 percent of children completed their entire primary school
cycle. Of the children who do finish primary school, only 16% are girls.

C H R I S T O P H E D A S I L V A
We wander streets and cities, we listen to people and shine
a spotlight on their stories and human experiences through
innovative narrative and pictures that help us feel they are
real. We cast aside the shackles of traditional models of
journalism: we do not simply narrate facts, seek expert opinions
or look for reasons that the story should not be published.
There was one main question guiding our thought process
before we launched the Story platform. How can we
be journalists and tell short stories within the creative
limits imposed by digital platforms? How can we invent
new styles and moulds free of the problems associated
with the breakneck pace of modern news, linguistic
affectation, and fetishistic pursuit of new technologies?
Stories of the traditional journalistic kind may seem foreign
to frivolous digital platforms full of selfies and pictures of
cats and coffee cups. But Story has found a space where
words and pictures can interact. It rearranges people
and places in a tour of narratives as told by the speakers
themselves and not from the pages of books. It records not
opinions and prejudices but impressions and observations.
Over a period of two years, we wandered the streets of
cities and towns in more than 75 countries on five different
continents, collecting more than 500 pictures and 500
stories about people and places as told to us by local
narrators. For this book, we have selected 100 of these
pictures and stories. And we are still looking for more.

Al Jazeera Media Institute

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