Nostalgic Memories - I
A search that never stops. A search for meaning, love, a story to tell, a direction, a place, a memory...a sister. Running after a nostalgic memory of a long lost sister I kept at the back of my head since childhood, led me to Harar. If I can’t find her, I thought, I can at least be one with her experiences. Because, places have a habit of preserving memories. For years, I wondered how different my sister’s life would be; whether she felt lost far from a place we called home. I wandered around the city taking pictures. And each day I was on the streets, I saw how she could have been far from lost. After all, home was where life happened. And life happened in both cities. My search for my sister was like building a bridge from broken pieces of a memory scattered around in different places. A bridge that leads to a familiar place called home. I brought those shared memories from cities apart by creating a series of double exposure photos; in which all I thought I’ve lost and found; the disappointment and the peace; the journey towards reconnecting with my sister could be seen in a full body of work.
Nostalgic Memories II
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II, I
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II, II
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II, III
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II, IV
The Second Coming
Which takes up more space? Violence or forgiveness? Our country, a home to over 80 ethnic groups, 45-86 different languages, 312 monarchs, and many more rich historical events, too many to count back, is blessed with so much space to carry so much life. Yet, for so long, we, the people, couldn’t find a place in our hearts to accept those who have wronged us. “The Second Coming” is a photo series that follows up on one of the most significant events in the recent history of our country; the return of former political figures and parties to the city after years of banning. This act narrowed the border of our differences bringing us together under one vision; togetherness through forgiveness . The pictures were taken at different times yet at the same place. By the end of the day, our hearts can welcome and carry so much more than our land ever could.
Defiance
Life starts earlier than dawn in the city. Everything that happens just before the sun rises is almost spiritual; the cars passing smoothly brushing against the asphalt, early risers going to church, some at the lone stations to meet the early bus, the scent of fresh soil as the cleaners spray water on the road, trainers catching their share of fresh breath, the smell of tea and fresh biscuits at the side of the road; one can say this is a practice that dates back all the way to the golden days of the city. If you look around, you’d witness the drastic changes happening day by day. But the heart of our city will forever be carried by its people. And our heroes, beliefs, hopes and dreams remain. When the city changes, layer by layer, the memories written in all the places we demolish to write new ones, remain.
