Working Life

Throughout Ethiopia, donkeys and young men are the workhorses of the nation. They walk the streets together carrying loads of cargo piled higher and heavier than either of them could ever carry alone, delivering goods, bundles of wood and gallons of water from one home to the next. Dawn until dusk. It’s a long daily grind for a small daily pay and this young man is at the beginning of his career.

This woman runs her own small business out of this tiny space at the front of the building where she lives. She buys large pieces of coal from her supplier and cuts them down into one kilogram bags of a more manageable size. Her customers are mostly street food stall owners who use portable coal burning stoves and grills.

At the end of each day she’ll close up her shop and walk down a long, narrow laneway that leads to the back of the building where she lives. Other than her dog staying by her side the whole time, there’s not much more we know about who she is or the life she lives. This one photograph is all we have.

This fine man sells three kinds of eggs, white, brown and quail. They are stored inside his shop overnight, and he exchanges places with them when he arrives at work. There just isn’t room for the four of them.

In every other minute of the day, except when posing for this photograph, this young woman wears a smile bigger and brighter than the morning sun. It’s as though this photograph created a rare opportunity for self reflection that her days and years had yet to give her. If it’s true, the thoughts of her life that fill her head at this very moment, exposed to the camera and now to you, are hers alone.

The rugged terrain and unique motorcycle culture of Gaziantep city have given rise to a small group of lone, rogue bikers who make their living on their bikes, collecting recyclables from garbage bins and city dumps to then sell by weight at the recycling depot.

In other cities throughout Türkiye this is usually done by foot. Men and women wheel a cart up and down the streets, collecting only one of the many types of recyclables out there. But here in Gaziantep, these men, maybe ten or fifteen of them in total, have modified their motorcycle sidecars to be able to carry every type of recyclable they can find. They ride through the city day or night, covering as much ground as they can to earn as much money as they need.

You may not see it in this photograph, but this man, and the other collectors like him, are the stars of this city. They work for themselves and answer to no one; they love their bikes and the feeling of riding free through the city streets; and they’re able make a living without having to change their way of life or give up who they are. Not one bit.

These are not the same grey coveralls his great-grandfather used to wear when he opened this metalwork shop a hundred years ago, but it feels like them.

One day all the monuments to the revolution that adorn the streets and parks of Guatemala city will be replaced with monuments of this man and hard working people like him. These are the labourers whose hands have built this nation into its modern day version of itself. The plaques at the base of their statues will read: Revolutions are only the beginning.

These decoratively carved tree trunks are actually pestles, and they’re used with equally large mortars to pound fufu—a smooth, stretchy starch made from cassava and plantain, eaten with a light soup.

This man lives near a forest where straight sapling trunks are ideal for making these strong, slender pestles. He shapes them for balance, smoothing part of the shaft for one hand to slide while leaving the rest of the bark for grip. The striking end is heated over an open fire and hardened for pounding. He will even make a pestle to order, just the way you like it.

In the central market district of Soddo, a shop owner waits patiently outside his fabric store for the first Saturday morning customers to arrive.

Early every morning this man buys fresh greens at the wholesale market to then sell throughout the day. He sets up shop wherever foot traffic is steady, and he’ll work all day until everything is sold. His produce table is made of plastic bags and his chair is nothing more than a fine sense of balance.

Age has not worn him down or changed him one bit, except for having made him a realist. He no longer dreams of opportunities for a better life, but simply of ways to live his best life. Maybe this is all that changes when we get older, or all that really needs to. ― Become a realist and keep your balance.

A young boy once dreamed of owning his own shop. Then one day, as if all of a sudden, it had become his everyday of life.

Raising his daughter to become a strong, independent woman. Looking after her father in his senior years.

It’s been less than a month since this woman opened her new food stand. She sells single packs of soup starters and small bottles of cooking oil. It’s not a wide selection, but in Ghana everyone needs to find something to sell in order to make ends meet. This man has kindly let her set up outside his door on a narrow laneway that leads to the busier market streets. So far, nothing is quite as she hoped it would be.