Africa is a continent where humanity’s origins lie, a place that evokes fear of remembrance. It’s a land where people hesitate to tread, feeling the weight of its history with every step. Beneath its clouds, it’s hard to imagine wandering freely, as the magnificence of the world reflects in the eyes of its people.
Their lives that seem difficult to us are enveloped in the scent of the freedom we find hard to understand or have forgotten.
Their dreams can look like chaos for us. In the end, we lost the sense of reality, a healthy connection to nature. We don’t dare to do something serious. We created cities whose only purpose is to mock us.
Outside of Bamako City, we went to a Madrasa in the middle of nowhere. Instantly, whatever they study became so mystical, just because of the atmosphere that spreads from their gazes.
This man, who was citing God’s name with his prayer beads, was a blind man. When others in the mosque mentioned that I was photographing around, he also wanted me to have a photo of him. Instinctively, I wanted to show the photo to him. He was carrying a photo of someone that I don’t remember the details about on his neck.
Man with his 3 wives and children.
The whole country was like a professional stage of mystery. Maybe it is a mistake to call something that real a thing close to film instead of summoning excitement.
Their understanding of life and their soul to it was never seen anywhere else but Africa.
Farewell.