In July 2023, an email informing me that I had been awarded the Royal Photographic Society Environmental Bursary popped into my inbox.

First came the shock. Then elation. Then anxiety.

The £4000 bursary is awarded to one person a year to fund the production of an environmental photography project. 

I had gone big with my proposal to document communities living with climate change in Senegal.

Now, I needed to make it work.

I knew I needed to collaborate with an NGO for local expertise, logistics, and access to the communities.

I approached a large British NGO and they turned me down, saying that I needed to have “more impressive media contacts” and that “there is nothing in it for us except photography.”

Ouch. Could I make this work?

I found a French/Senegalese NGO, SOS Sahel, working on environmental projects in Senegal and approached.

As luck would have it, SOS Sahel was launching a campaign to celebrate food in the Sahel, called ‘Africa Days’, and they needed a photographer.

We agreed that I would shoot their campaign images alongside my Royal Photographic Society Environmental Bursary project.

I would have a driver, a translator, and an itinerary that took me to the key places and communities involved in environmental initiatives.

Three months later, I found myself on a plane to Dakar.

After a restless night in a hotel, I am collected by SOS Sahel’s driver Ibou and translator Inza and whisked away in a Toyota 4x4 into the interior of Senegal.

The story was happening.

Still bleary-eyed from travel, I find myself in the middle of a dance party to welcome us to a village.

I photograph traditional food being prepared inside a thatched village house, and have a jig under the village Baobab tree with assorted ladies, children, and Goats, before eating a tasty lunch of Thieboudienne (Senegalese rice and fish).

Then, we hop into the Toyota to travel to the next location, where another welcome party will begin.

Just as I’m getting used to this, a woman in the next village tells me with a wry smile, “We love it when white people come. They bring money.”

There is much for me to learn and unlearn in Senegal:

I realise that the gardeners here haven’t read the doom-laden European newspaper headlines about climate change in the Sahel. Instead, they are joyfully growing vegetables on the edge of the Sahara, despite frequent water pump breakdowns.

I witness the generous skill-sharing that is part of village life in Senegal: someone goes to university to study horticulture or cookery and returns home to upskill the whole village, turning organic produce into energy drinks and patches of bare land into productive community gardens.

The rules of engagement for photography need to be relearned as well.

Photo shoots in villages are special occasions where everyone turns out, often filming the spectacle on their phones. It’s a party atmosphere that you just roll along with, fuelled by copious cups of sweet Sahel tea.

The camaraderie I share on the road with Ibou and Inza feels special.

We roll along the desert roads to a soundtrack of music from Mali, picking up cups of Nescafe espresso and fresh mangos from roadside stands.

When I lose my drone amongst the acacia trees, Ibou searches for it in the Toyota while I photograph in a village.

Part 2 - Coming Soon

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