#restless development

Studying by candlelight in one of the shelters. ‘I study every night, even if it’s just by candlelight,’ says Bryce, his face glowing in the darkness. ‘No matter what happens around us, I won’t stop learning.’

Lisara Thapa Magar is based in Kathmandu, Nepal. This photograph is part of her project Within Narrow Walls about her experience of growing up in overcrowded accommodation. In this image she describes the freedom space and solitude bring: ‘I feel safe enough to nurture myself. In my solitude, I bloom.’

‘All my life, I have lived in a house that feels too crowded. There is no room here for me, or my feelings. I constantly feel submerged underwater – disoriented and struggling to breathe,’ Magar says.

Denis Taban Okeny is from South Sudan but now lives in Kakuma refugee camp in Kenya, where he says ‘safety is not just physical security; it encompasses emotional well-being, a sense of belonging, and the opportunity to dream without fear’. He founded Fly Bring Smile, a refugee-led art organisation that teaches young children to express themselves and share their stories through their artwork. Here he has photographed a child studying by lamplight in Kakuma.

Diego Francisco Sánchez Lázaro, 23, from Costa Rica, produced a series of photos called Caminos Invisibles/Unseen Paths about young people with different visual disabilities in Costa Rica, exploring their experiences, challenges and ways of overcoming them.

Fatem says: ‘I once asked a friend why she always wears the keffiyeh at every important occasion. She answered, “It makes me feel safe, like a gentle embrace.” For us, the keffiyeh embodies the land, our homeland, Palestine. Through this photo, I wanted everyone to feel that the keffiyeh is the soul of our country and that our homeland will for ever hold us close. No matter how many strangers may occupy it, it will never feel like exile.’

Marrio Jones Ikirezi, 22, from Cameroon, was born to Rwandan refugees who fled the 1994 genocide. She lost her father to violence in 2014, and in 2021, survived a traumatic kidnapping and sexual assault. Her photos are part of a project called Amitié (Friendship). She says: ‘The image of hands making a heart represents this precious bond, this capacity of friendship to create a space where we feel accepted and safe. These intertwined hands symbolise the unconditional support that kept me standing when everything seemed to be falling apart.’

Aidah is an eco-feminist and photographer. For her photo essay Places We Can Be she photographed her African friends who identify as LGBTQ+ ‘expressing freedom, play and love in a political environment that is criminalising the existence and expression of queerness’. Her photos are taken among nature, which she describes as providing ‘a playground’ where no one is policed or judged.