(below in Spanish)

Last June, the Shoot4Change team formed by the photographer Davide Camesasca, the filmmaker Nicoló Bruna and the journalist Judit Figueras, spent 13 days in Namibia. The aim of their trip was to document the situation of children living in a village in the southeast of the country, Gochas.

 

During their stay, Davide, Nicoló and Judit carried out an audiovisual workshop addressed to the primary school students of Gochas. Throughout the day, the Shoot4Change team briefed the children on the basic concepts of photography and video, showing them examples of professional audiovisual and photographic samples.

 

Lastly, they conducted a practical exercise with the multiple digital cameras that had been collected before the trip. In this last assignment, different small groups were set up so that the students could learn how the camera works and how to use it properly. Once the practice was over, the children were given a photographic task about their day-to-day life in the community and they had to deliver it within three days.

 

The images that the kids portrayed reflected a harsh reality and difficult living conditions. Most of the children in Gochas live in an area called 'the location'. In this marginalized zone, the houses are shacks made of rubbish, plastics, wood and asbestos. These shanties have neither a tap nor access to electricity.

 

Like most Namibian villages, Gochas is split into two and sometimes three parts. The white population and the Basters (descendants of Dutch and indigenous people) live in the more wealthy sectors and in the 'location' resides the majority of the Nama ethnic population, which is the black community.

 

In Gochas, the Nama people still drag on a colonial and historical legacy marked by marginalization and racial separation. After Germany's defeat in World War I, the League of Nations handed over Namibia, then known as the German South West Africa and controlled by the Germans since 1840, for the benefit of the South African Union, which is now South Africa.

In 1948, the Afrikaners, an ethnic group of Dutch descent that arrived in Namibia after the country fell under South African hegemony, imposed an Apartheid system in South Africa and, therefore, also in the region of South-West Africa, the current Namibia. Apartheid, which means "separation" in Afrikaans, implanted a segregation system between different racial groups for the political benefit of the white population. Despite the fact that in 1966 the South West African People's Organization (Swapo), an insurgent guerrilla group, declared war on the South African regime and in 1990 proclaimed the country's independence, Namibia's black population remains economically disadvantaged in comparison to whites. In fact, according to the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP), Namibia is the second most unequal country in the world in terms of its population’s wealth, only surpassed by its neighbour South Africa. 

Some of the child cases that Shoot4change team was able to screen had either dropped out of school or were at risk of doing so. Most of them are orphans and live with a family member who, in almost all cases, is addicted to alcohol. Alcoholism, due to a very high unemployment rate and the aftermath of colonialism, is the main problem affecting the Nama population and, consequently, the minors. The adults in charge of these children are no longer responsible under the effects of this substance and, in many cases, the kids do not have food, clean clothes and a minimum of hygiene.

 

Theopauline Goliath, the former principal of the primary school in Gochas, showed the situation of the children who were in a more critical situation. She is the one who invited Shoot4Change to travel to Gochas and asked them help in the construction of a shelter that would give the children a safe home with a healthy environment.

 

One of the most worrying stories was Flora's, a 10-year-old girl who lost her parents, both affected by AIDS, and now lives with an adult couple (59 and 60 years old) who do not work and spend most of their time drinking in a shack that brews beer. Flora also lives with her younger sister, Michelle, and the two grandchildren of the couple she lives with, whom she cares for, feeds and cleans. On weekends, she feeds the other children living in the district. With other children, she organizes groups to hunt birds, pluck them and roast them on the fire. According to Flora, she helps other children because she feels sorry for them. In addition, the child admits that she doesn't like living with her adoptive grandmother because when she drinks too much, she punishes her, beats her and insults her.

After the fieldwork, the three members of Shoot4Change now start their photographic, audiovisual and journalistic projects, in which they will capture the reality of the children who live in this Namibian village.

 

Shoot4Change does not forget its social mission and, therefore, the result of their efforts will be used to carry out a fundraising campaign aimed at improving the lives of these children. 

Today I'm truly happy to feature Andre Liohn, an old friend, a friend of S4C and one of the best and most accomplished combat photographer of our times.

There is no need to introduce him. He became the first Latin American photojournalist to receive the prestigious Robert Capa Gold Medal by the Overseas Press Club for his work on the Libyan Civil War. He devoted his Life in documenting the most horrible social and humanitarian crisis around the World (his work documenting the challenges faced by health care personal working in conflict areas, has been used by the ICRC's Health Care in Danger project, denouncing cases violence against health care personal around the World) with an unusual sensible approach to storytelling and empathy for those who lived those stories.

What we show today are different pictures. 

These are not photos that could be published in newspapers or magazines, they are not pictures that tell the story of the events that were happening and that led me to be in that place and moment next to these men. These photos do not tell what happened before and also, they do not tell what could or would happen after they were made. These photos were made as if what had brought us there had stopped to exist. These photos show moments of relaxation amidst the eminent and often inevitable, final point in the lives of those who appear in them smiling. Many of the soldiers in these photos no longer live, some, lost their lives days and even hours after I photographed them. These photos remind me of dear friend Captain Walidi, a hero who died while helping his soldiers to rescue an injured friend. I feel flattered that I have met each of these people.

They pay a tribute to the men he crossed in Iraq. Most of them do not live anymore. Many died just after taking those shots. But many are still there, fighting terrorists in their own Land. They are the ones to whom we owe the fall of ISIS.

 

And there is also another image that struck my attention

 

A tribute to Photojournalism and to those who raise their camera every time to document the moments that define history.

Antonio Amendola

 

(a story by Alessandro Abrusci  and Jenni Crowther/ S4C Bari)

 

This is H. He is 12 years old and tells us he is working on the formula for quantum tunnelling (one of the most complex and mysterious concepts in quantum mechanics).

 

We met H. at a MAP (Methodist Asylum Project) drop-in centre for refugees and asylum seekers in Middlesbrough, a large town in the north-east of England. It's the school holidays and H. is at the centre because his parents are helping at the project and he's too young to stay at home. The family is from Iran and came to the UK two years ago, forced to leave their home country for sensitive reasons which, even though the family have permanent UK residency status, they did not feel comfortable to discuss with us.

 

Our attention was first dawn to H. as he was attempting to play pool with some of the older men who had come to the Wednesday morning drop-in event run by the local charity MAP (Methodist Asylum Project). A group of men and older boys from Somalia, DRC and Eritrea have spent the morning bonding with cues in hand, when one of the oldest, a man from Somalia who is awaiting the processing of his second or third asylum appeal, encourages H. to come and have a go. H. is unfamiliar with how to hold the cue, and the man patiently demonstrates the bent-knuckled hand position, to enable him to try to hit the ball.

 

Curious, we ask one of MAP‘s trustees for information about H. and are told that he‘s a bit of a Math genius and last year he won a prize in the UK Mathematics challenges. Interest piqued, we asked permission from H.’s father and mother to speak with him. They agree after consulting each other and H. to see if he would be willing to talk with us and possibly have his picture taken.

Speaking with H. is a wild ride. His passion and enthusiasm for his favourite subject is at once baffling and infectious. For a non-quantum buff, which is most of us, the conversation is an exercise in concentration and amazement. His speech is littered with rapid-fire theorem, as if his mind works at ten-times the speed of his tongue and it is a struggle for his linguistic expression to keep up. He tells us about his current work on the formula to try "to find a way to increase the wavelength of particles, or just create a particle that could change its wavelength”- (a key component of quantum tunnelling it seems). It's hard to know how to respond in more sophisticated ways than wide-eyed amazement, we start wishing we were more worthy conversationalists for him. We ask if H. could potentially invent time-travel, he says he hopes so, as it is theoretically possible using a wormhole.

 

Asked how long he has been interested in maths, H. says enthusiastically "Since I was born!" He started really studying at five years old, encouraged by his Mum, a maths teacher with a Physics degree, his Uncle who had a profound impact on him as an engineer, and his Dad, a financial manager, who suggests ”it's in his genes.”

 

He tells us that his favourite difference between school in the UK and in Iran is that, there, they only did maths a couple of times a week, but now it's maths every day. In Tehran he read books for research but now in Middlesbrough he mostly uses the internet.

 

His father tells us that mathematics education is strong in Iran and competition is fierce, but still H. reminisces that there was once a national competition when he was around eight-years old that was held five times per year and he won all five and set a new record. He says this made him very happy, as it was hard at the time, but looking back now the maths seems easy. Explaining why he loves maths competition he says "it makes you challenge your way of thinking and that's really interesting... helps you think outside the box... and this is the way to go to create new things".

 

His mathematical heroes (aside from his father) are Nikola Tesla and Albert Einstein. After briefly explaining to us the finer points of E-MC2, he says the best thing Tesla did was the invention of free electricity, “which sadly never made it to market” H. muses, his enthusiasm for how this development could benefit mankind, evident.

 

As H. explains how he uses Google to travel to other planets and galaxies, and how he is keen to do this for real, we ask if he's seen Star Wars. He hasn’t, and adds that his interest in possibly watching the films would be to analyse the science behind it. He asks us if Star Wars is set in a 3.0 or 4.0 society, adding that our current society is probably about 0.7 as "... we can't use all our [single planetary] resources usefully."

 

We ask him if he is happy here (in Middlesbrough). "Yeah" he replies, elaborating on the differences between the two countries; ”Here’s a lot more advanced, a lot more forward technology, there's better-shaped homes, more football and more maths."

 

As for the future, he would like to continue to compete in the mathematics prizes, with an eye on studying Physics and Quantum mechanics at Oxford or Harvard. Perhaps this incredible youngster, could end up following in the footsteps of Caucher Birkar, another Iranian refugee, now a professor of mathematics at Cambridge who was awarded a Gold medal in the 2018 Fields Prize, the discipline‘s highest honour.

Whatever his future, there is no doubt that H. has the kind of mind and attitude that this planet needs more of in this time of environmental turbulence. He is phenomenally bright and deeply passionate about the potential of scientific and mathematic advances to help humanity solve our mounting problems.

 

This is a story of one young man with extraordinary potential, but without doubt, there are countless other stories like this, if one had the resources and interest to delve into the personal lives of the people who come to Europe seeking shelter and a chance for their children to grow up with access to education.

 

Without wanting to over-state the potential of young H. it is important to recognise that we can't predict which brilliant key individuals will be instrumental in ensuring the survival of our species and revolutionising our lifestyles. We can't know their nationality of origin or personal history. But what is almost certain is that they will come from H.'s generation and they will need all the support we can give them, whichever country they come from.

 

How fortunate we are in politically-stable countries to be able to offer access to our educational facilities to families from all over the world; and how fortunate our children are to be able to learn alongside children from other cultures.

 

The warm-welcome, resources, support and sense of belonging that the MAP project provides to H.’s family and wider refugee community in Middlesbrough offers a golden opportunity. MAP is demonstrating through action all of the noble qualities necessary to thrive in a vastly diverse community of global individuals.

 

As war, famine and political-oppression force people to seek safe, stable places to live. Perhaps we who receive them, are being presented with a gift not a headache. Perhaps by opening our minds and hearts, we are being given the opportunity to develop understanding and empathy for those whose suffering is far greater than our own.

We can choose to react with anger, born of fear and mistrust, or we can develop humility, gratitude and generosity; like the volunteers involved in MAP are so gracefully demonstrating, day-in and day-out, in this little-visited, seldom thought-of, friendly town in the North East of England.

Alessandro Abrusci and Jenni Crowther/ S4C Bari

 

(a story of Adriana Miani)

- english version below -

Dopo varie difficoltà burocratiche è arrivato il giorno del mio pass presso il carcere circondariale femminile di Rebibbia.

Superati i controlli, mi guardo intorno: tutto è pulito e ordinato. Tra gli alberi mi colpisce una palazzina e il vociare di bimbi, mi volto e vedo, nel giardino antistante la struttura, bambini e mamme che giocano: è il nido dove le detenute vivono con i loro bambini fino a quando non avranno espiato la pena.

Entro nella struttura principale, attraverso corridoi lunghissimi e incrocio detenute che incredibilmente mi salutano e sorridono. Suono ad un portone di ferro che viene azionato dalle guardie, mi presento e vengo autorizzata ad andare al “gabbiotto”, così si chiama il luogo dove le ragazze di cui vi parlerò passano la maggior parte della giornata. In questa stanza di 30 mq circa l’Associazione Gruppo Idee ha promosso un laboratorio sartoriale e lì trovo tante ragazze di varie nazionalità che convivono in questo ambiente. Realizzano borse, manufatti di vario genere ed abbigliamento con il brand NeroLuce. Sono ragazze che vanno dai 30 ai 50 anni hanno commesso reati di vario genere ed attendono la fine pena per ricominciare a vivere.

“E’ una parentesi”, “E’ una pausa” dicono.

Parlano, ridono, si arrabbiano, mangiano, lavorano è tutto il loro mondo, non amano stare in cella, preferiscono trascorrere il loro tempo qui per non pensare (frase ricorrente).

Chiedo a due di loro che cosa hanno fatto il primo giorno che hanno avuto il permesso di uscire: “mi sono seduta su una panchina in un parco ed ho telefonato alla mia mamma”, “Sono andata a vedere il mare”.

Azioni normali, ma per loro respirare aria di libertà crea grandi emozioni, come al rientro grande sofferenza.

Allontanarsi nuovamente dagli affetti è di grande sconforto. Alcune di loro hanno figli grandi e piccoli, si vergognano, sono preoccupate per il loro futuro. Sono impegnate a trovare un modo per dimostrare che hanno sbagliato, ma hanno colto al volo la possibilità di riscattarsi, iniziare un nuovo percorso di vita.

Ho avuto la possibilità di condividere con loro attimi di gioia come:

Piangere nel ricevere la comunicazione di fine pena

Felicità nel ricevere l’autorizzazione a partorire fuori e poter tornare al proprio paese per espiare l’ultimo anno di detenzione ai domiciliari

Solidarietà e condivisione di ciò da parte delle altre che aspettano il loro turno che prima o poi giungerà.

Ho partecipato anche alla realizzazione di una sfilata di moda di abiti da sposa organizzata dall’Associazione. Che emozione!

Tutte volevano provare gli abiti, gli accessori, si sono fatte truccare e pettinare senza lamenti: “fammi una foto così truccata   e pettinata, così la mando al mio fidanzato” “fotografami con questa bella borsa, la mando alla mia famiglia”

Inizia la sfilata: non sono certo modelle, ma l’orgoglio di aver partecipato ad una giornata speciale è palpabile. In passerella sono fiere, belle, felici come se si fossero riappropriate della loro femminilità mai dimenticata, solo rimossa. Donne con la D maiuscola grazie a trucco, parrucco e tacchi. Le altre sedute lungo il parterre incitano, applaudono, urlano. Sensazioni indescrivibili.

Le mie protagoniste si chiamano Allegra, Deniz, Lucia, Nicoletta, Maria, Rita, Roxana, Veronica.

Le ritengo speciali perché con senso di responsabilità ammettono di aver sbagliato, ma con lucidità hanno deciso di rimettersi in gioco.

Infrangono così gli schemi che le vorrebbero senza prospettive.

Il loro viaggio è iniziato nel momento in cui hanno deciso di non vivere più nel buio, ma di ricucire la loro esistenza.

Questo lavoro è un omaggio alla loro voglia di riscatto.

 

Adriana Miani /S4C

 

(italian intro below)

Yesterday, during the Italy-Sweden game at Euro2016 Tournament, we received these two stories by Ornella Mazzola and Agata Katia Lo Coco of S4C Palermo in Sicily.

Two football stories from Palermo (from two neighborhoods with the highest grade of social problems in the city) within the "Antiracist Mediterranean Games" event.

We decided to publish them together: a color and black and white one. Two different styles sharing the same sensitivity in observing the surrounding reality.

Small, short  stories,  written and photographed on the fly by allowing yourself to get involved in the game atmosphere and inter racial integration.

Yesterday, while on TV   images of Italy-Sweden ran I imagined the whole Country intent to cheer our national Team. Instead, on the small computer screen  we saw these other sports images from dusty Ballarò. Sport was just an excuse to say that the Mediterranean Sea is not racist as somebody want us to believe. Maybe even the protagonists of these two stories last night, have supported Italy. Or maybe Sweden. It does not matter. It does not matter at all. The important thing is that now they feel safe and at home there.

S4C

Ieri, durante la partita Italia-Svezia sono arrivate queste due storie da parte di Ornella Mazzola e Agata Katia Lo Coco di S4C Palermo.

Due storie di calcio a Ballarò e a Piazza Maggione all'interno della manifestazione Mediterraneo Antirazzista che abbiamo deciso di pubblicare insieme: una a colori e una in bianco e nero. Due cifre stilistiche apparentemente diverse ma accomunate dalla medesima sensibilità nell'osservare la realtà circostante.

Sono storie piccole, brevi, scritte e fotografate di getto, lasciandosi coinvolgere dalle atmosfere del gioco e dell'integrazione inter razziale. 

Ieri, in tv scorrevano le immagini di Italia-Svezia; immaginavo tutta l'Italia intenta a tifare la nostra Nazionale. E sul piccolo schermo del computer vedevo invece queste altre immagini di sport a Palermo, che però era solo una scusa per dire che il Mediterraneo non è razzista come ci vogliono fare credere. Magari anche i protagonisti di queste due storie, ieri sera, hanno tifato Italia. O magari Svezia. Non importa. Non importa affatto. L'importante è che adesso si sentano a casa.

S4C

(english abstract)

a story by Simone Margelli

Each year thousands of refugees arrive in Italy. But once they get here: where do they go?
This report gets to the heart of reception centers, by spying and describing the lives of these men in search of hope.
Pakistan, Gambia, Nigeria, Ivory Coast, Italy.

Are young men/adults who live day by day waiting a positive answer to their asylum request. Running away from war, dictatorships and from all contradictions that characterise their countries.
The reportage is a way to give visibility to these people, a way to come out the delicate relationship between the public and the truths that need to get involved, even going beyond the prejudices and mutual distrust/mistrust.