Zebras
Zebras are among the animals I have encountered most consistently across Africa, yet they never become ordinary. Photographing them in Botswana, Namibia, Kenya, Zimbabwe, and Tanzania has revealed an animal whose strength is often underestimated, hidden behind rhythm, pattern, and familiarity.
In the field, zebras project a constant alertness. Their posture is upright, their gaze sharp, their reactions immediate. Even when grazing, there is tension in their bodies—a readiness to move as one. Strength, in their case, is not expressed through bulk or aggression, but through endurance, speed, and cohesion. They survive by awareness and by unity.
Black and white photography strips away the obvious visual appeal of their stripes and transforms them into structure, contrast, and movement. Without colour, the interaction between light and pattern becomes more pronounced: overlapping lines, shifting shapes, and moments where individual animals dissolve into abstraction. It is in these moments that the zebra’s true presence emerges—not decorative, but resilient.
I am particularly drawn to the way zebras occupy space. Whether standing alone or tightly grouped, they assert themselves calmly, confidently. Their strength lies in balance: between stillness and flight, individuality and herd, elegance and toughness. Each encounter feels precise and deliberate, as if the animals are fully aware of their role in the landscape.
These images are my attempt to move beyond the familiar iconography of the zebra and present it as I experience it in Africa: vigilant, enduring, and quietly powerful—perfectly suited to be interpreted through monochrome.
