Picture of a Picture | Part 2

Picture of a Picture is a recurring series that pairs the act of photography with the final image it produced. Each entry offers a rare view of process, connecting the scene behind the camera with the photograph itself. In this installment, Nick Parisse reflects on two portraits of the same man from our project On Whose Land in Niger, accompanied by his testimony.

Fieldwork in Niger was transformational for me. I remember the day we went to Birni Nwala, a remote village in Niger. The village was adjacent to a stretch of the Great Green Wall, the most ambitious land regeneration project in African history.

For a couple of decades international organizations had invested hundreds of millions of dollars to plant trees and fight desertification from Senegal to Djibouti. Niger was the country where the Great Green Wall started. We were there to understand what this project really meant to the people who built it and lived by it.

I remember the long, bumpy roads to the village. The dust and the heat. The hottest time of the year in one of the world’s hottest places. Our car didn’t have air conditioning. Before arriving in Birni Nwala early morning, we spotted the Great Green Wall site: a large mass of green over red land in the distance.

Our team came out of the car. It was my first time using a drone.

A couple of weeks before departing, our team decided that it was essential to bring a drone. I had to learn fast. I went to a friend’s house who was living by a lake in Long Island to test the new machine. I flew it for one day. Two days later I was on a plane to Niger.

“For the first time in my career, I was seeing the impact of my images in real time.”

We didn’t know how critical aerial shots would become in our investigation until I started flying the drone. The land tells a story so compelling that some villagers couldn’t believe what we were showing them. It was a revelation. For the first time in my career, I was seeing the impact of my images in real time.

The first thing we did in Birni Nwala that morning was to meet the village chief, Bankali Nikawara. Mr. Nikawara had been chief for close to two decades when we met him. “This village cares greatly about the environment,” he said. “We are very serious about the problem of climate change and protection of our land. If there is anything I can do to bring this village together, I will do it.”

It was part of our protocol in this part of the world to meet with the authorities first, explain what we were there to do, and ask for permission. But we only interviewed village chiefs once we were finished interviewing and photographing everybody else in the village. The goal was to have no-nonsense conversations with the people who hold power. So we greeted Mr. Nikawara that morning, promised him we’d be back at the end of the day, and off we went.

“You have to be alert and ready for anything at any moment.”

In the afternoon, our team stopped briefly because it was prayer time. That’s when I saw Mr. Nikawara walking down the street to the mosque. With the help of our assistant, I asked him if I could photograph him while he prayed. You need to approach these situations with great respect.

It was a difficult ask, a private moment at a sacred place, but he welcomed the idea. It’s the kind of intimate photography I practice at DAWNING. You have to be alert and ready for anything at any moment.

Mr. Nikawara had a presence. He was very kind, and there was a dignity in him that I wanted to capture with my camera. Before we left, I had the opportunity to photograph him again at the village council building –a spare room with a window.

I like these pictures because I can see in them what I saw while I was there. What I remember the most about Niger is the people. They were so welcoming and generous.

I remember Mr. Nikawara prepared a farewell gift for our team: 50 eggs perfectly arranged in a basket. While we were touched by his gesture, we convinced him that the eggs would break in our bumpy, long road back home.