Summer in Africa: Behind the Lens and Beyond the Expected

This summer, I traveled to East Africa with my family—a trip that would challenge me, move me, and ultimately change the way I see the world. We spent time in both Tanzania and Kenya, and I carried my camera with me everywhere—not with the intention of creating a professional portfolio, but to capture the moments that felt real, raw, and deeply human.

We began our journey with a safari through the Serengeti and Ngorongoro Crater, places that almost defy description in their beauty and scale. There’s something surreal about watching elephants cross a golden plain at dusk or locking eyes with a lion just a few feet away. Seeing the Big Five was thrilling, but it wasn’t just about the wildlife. It was the quiet pauses—the way the light hit the grass at sunrise, or the distant echo of hooves—that really stayed with me. These weren’t just animals on display; they were part of a living, breathing world, and I felt lucky to witness it.

But the most meaningful part of the trip wasn’t the safari—it was the people.

In Tanzania, I volunteered at Nashipay Private School, where I was unexpectedly thrown into teaching a class on my very first day. I had no lesson plan, no experience, and no idea what to expect. It was overwhelming at first, but the kids met me with such warmth and energy that my nerves quickly faded. They chased me across the schoolyard, laughing, reaching out to touch my skin and hair with wide-eyed curiosity. It was a powerful reminder of how deeply children want to connect, no matter where they’re from.

We also spent time with the Maasai Tribe, who invited us to learn about their customs, language, and way of life. One of the most humbling moments of the entire trip was being given a Maasai name in a traditional ceremony. They called me Saruni, which means protector—a title that represents leadership and someone who provides safety to others. I didn’t realize how much that moment would stay with me. It was more than a name—it felt like an acknowledgment of something I hadn't yet seen in myself.

Later, we visited the slums of Nairobi, where life looks drastically different but is filled with the same resilience and humanity. I met people who live with very little, but who carry a generosity of spirit that left me speechless. I took photos throughout the trip, not to showcase poverty or beauty in a voyeuristic way, but to document what moved me—the light, the struggle, the joy, the contrast.

Now, some of those images will be featured on a new website for the school I worked with. It wasn’t something I planned, but I’m honored that my photos might help support the community that gave me so much in such a short time.

Africa challenged my expectations. It forced me to look closely, listen more, and sit with discomfort. It reminded me that real connection often happens when we step outside our comfort zones. This wasn’t just a trip—it was a lesson in humility, perspective, and the enduring power of human connection.