jake lyell photography (blog)

It’s not really what you think of as Africa, but neither is it the Middle East. The island of Zanzibar, otherwise known as Unguja, is in part its own entity, and the center of Swahili culture in East Africa. In an area of the world where political unrest is not uncommon, it’s a wonder Zanzibar has been in union with the Tanzanian mainland for as long as it has.

The Sultanate of Zanzibar, an archipelago nation off the Indian Ocean Coast of East Africa, merged with the East African nation of Tanganyika in 1964 to form the United Republic of Tanzania, Republic of Tanzania, a hybrid name reflecting both countries. Earlier that year Zanzibar, a newly independent state itself, experienced a revolution in which over 12,000 ethnic Arabs and Indians on the island were massacred overnight. In the wake of the revolution most of Zanzibar’s wealthy and educated fled the country never to return. Its president, facing a potential coup by extremists and a devastated economy, had little choice but to join forces with the mainland country of Tanganyika.

Culturally, Zanzibar is almost quite literally oceans apart from its mainland counterpart. The population today is overwhelmingly unhappy with what they see as the destruction of their conservative Islamic culture brought on by relaxed travel rules between the island and the mainland and their limited autonomy as part of the union government. However, each cycle of elections, the results of which are usually disputed by international observers, sees victory for CCM, the party favoring closer ties to the mainland. The union government has survived to this day, but the marriage has never been happy.

These photos were taken over a four-day period while practicing my Swahili in Stonetown, known as Mji Mkongwe to speakers of the language. I intended to get out of Stonetown and photograph a bit more of the island, but the myriad of winding alleyways, hidden rooms and endless cups of fresh coffee brewed over open coals on the street were enough to keep me wandering around in town for more than a week.

More like an ocean, Lake Malawi runs almost the entire length of this Southern African country. I went to one of the least developed parts, the northern town of Karonga, on my way down to a recent assignment shooting Gucci funded UNICEF projects for Marie Claire Magazine.

I was recently in Western Kenya. What was intended to be a quick stopover en route to Uganda turned into four days of rummaging through a rainforest with my camera wrapped in plastic shopping bags. As my “hotel” was without it, I had to hitch a ride on the back of a motorcycle to the nearest place with electricity so I could download images and charge batteries every night.

Not too long ago Africa’s midsection was a band of almost solid rainforest, stretching over six million square kilometers from West Africa along the Atlantic, through to the Central African Republic and the DRC, into East Africa. Today, the Guineo-Congolian rainforest, as it is known, is now just a remnant of what it once was, its canopies having suffered the impact of logging, oil and mineral exploration. In the case of the Kakamega Forest, large areas were cleared during colonial times to make way for large tea plantations. Below, children stand in front of tea fields along the the forest’s periphery.

While vast ares of the rainforest are still present in Central Africa, only a tiny section of it remains in Kenya, where it is now a protected area. The Kakamega Forest Reserve occupies 240 square kilometers in Western Kenya and contains huge varieties of birds, insects, snakes, plants and small mammals. Many of the plants in the forest are highly medicinal.

The most exhilarating of events for me came as I accompanied a group of forest rangers on their daily rounds through the reserve. Following behind these soldiers with loaded weapons in tow, through thick vegetation and winding streams, really got my adrenaline going. At one point we were in hot pursuit of some poachers who were cutting down a tree, but they managed to escape.

The area around the forest, though rural, is one of the most densely populated areas in Africa, with around 400 people per square kilometer on average at its western and southern perimeters. As the communities around the forest are impoverished, the pressure is great to exploit the forest for its vast stocks of wood to be used as firewood or made into charcoal. Arrests do occur here every day. Steep fines accompany arrests and increase with repeat infractions.

KEEP (Kenya Environmental Education Program) is the government agency responsible for the care and protection of the forest. It also provides guides for tourists wishing to visit the reserve. These guides double as educators who teach environmental education awareness classes to children at the reserve headquarters on weekends, and also in public schools around the forest. Below, Mr. Abraham Imbai speaks to the Environmental Management and Conservation Club at Lunyu Secondary School.

“If we destroy the forest we lose rain.” says Maurine Cecilia, below, whose corn and herb gardens rely on the (usually) daily rainfall that results from the evaporation of the mist from the forest. Indeed, the land around the forest is extremely fertile, and farmers often reap several harvests a year because of the year-round rain. Soil erosion, a serious problem in most other parts of the county, is not an issue here.

Still many who live around the forest have little choice than to operate on the one day at a time mentality. “I know its illegal but its my responsibility to cook food for my family,” says one poacher (below, left) who along with her children have cut several fresh trees down and have to risk making three trips through the forest to take it all home.

Villagers are willing to risk fines in order to pilfer the abundant, free, firewood that comes out of the forest, especially if they can turn it into valuable, slow burning, charcoal. Though the production of charcoal is illegal, its lucrative rewards tempt some around the villages to produce and sell it. Below, men in the village of Virembe, on the forest’s western perimeter, smolder wood for charcoal.

“Right now there’s a total ban, but we’d like to allow it in order to bring prices down and discourage lucrative poaching,” says head Forester George Aimo. “If it was allowed under certain circumstances the forest would be better protected.” While there is an outright ban on charcoal production, it is permissible to collect dead wood in some areas of the reserve as long as the scavenger bears a receipt costing 100Ksh (USD $1.25) per month. The fine for a first time offense of collecting dry wood without a receipt, or felling trees or limbs is 2000 Ksh ($25 USD). Below, Mr. Patrick Asutzi, a KEEP employee, prepares seedlings for planting at the central ranger station.

Other problems in the forest include illegal logging, grazing and grass cutting. The A1 highway runs along the western edge of the forest making guerrilla logging easier. Villagers also graze their cattle in the periphery of the forest or even in the forest itself causing long term problems. “Overgrazing degrades the soil and inhibits regeneration of trees,” says Forester Aimo. Below, a man cuts grass in a high glen in the forest.


Above, a Black and White Colobus Monkey hides in the treetops. Its numbers have boomed back in the forest since the time when they were hunted for their fur, which was used in ceremonial garb. Today the monkey is still endangered, as the tree whose leaves are crucial to its digestion, the sandpaper tree, is also in danger due to logging and predation from pest trees in the forest. These predator species wrap themselves around other trees and over years suffocate them to death (see below).


We can never convince an entire generation that it must make sacrifices in order to provide quality of life for those to come, but for the most part KEEP is succeeding in this. Though serious problems exist, the forest not only remains but in some areas is growing. For the moment life is abundant here, though it is not without heavy cost and toil.

Gender roles are strictly divided in Sub-Saharan Africa – more so here than in any other place I’ve traveled. Women perform most of the tasks here from fetching water, to washing clothes, to taking a child to the hospital. However, few roles are solely set aside for men, except perhaps playing football or napping in the afternoon shade. A breach of code whereby men venture into women’s work is a sore embarrassment and one not to be done publicly. For the majority of those living on this continent life is hard. For women, the burden is harder still.

Lake Babati is one of dozens of water bodies known as the Rift Valley Lakes that span the eastern side of the African Continent from Mozambique to the Red Sea. The lake is the lifeblood of the town of Babati in Central Tanzania. Here people draw their cooking, cleaning, and even drinking water. Cattle feast along the densely vegetated shorelines beside women from nearby villages washing clothes. The lake is also home to abundant wildlife including fish, prawns, eels, hippos and many species of water bird.

Like the diverse wildlife found in the lake, Babati is a melting pot for Tanzania’s various tribes. On a given day one may find members of the Masai, Barabaig, Iraqw, Irangi and Man’gati tribes laboring along the shores of the lake or harvesting its fruits from within. However, the tranquil balance between man and nature has shifted as overuse of the lake’s resources have begun to affect natural habitats. Overfishing, excessive water drawing, and the destruction of wetlands for firewood and cattle grazing areas are resulting in dwindling numbers of the lake’s inhabitants as well as receding of its waters.

Tanzania is now my home for the next several months, possibly more. I’ve contemplated a move here for some time. It took a slump in the economy, the termination of my lease and a little divine shove to get me here, where I’ve been for over a week.

I’ve come out to work with Light in Africa, a (relatively) small NGO whose staff I’ve known many years. LIA has a variety of ministries including care and housing for over 150 orphaned or abandoned children, hospice and elder care for the aged, food kitchens and medical dispensaries. I’ve already begun making a multimedia presentation for Lynn Elliot, the organization’s founder (pictured above), in preparation for her upcoming trip to Germany and Holland. This is my primary task at the moment. Below, girls attend a weekend sewing class at LIA.

I also get to have an integral part with the day to day operations of the organization. There are over 150 children at LIA; each one needs individual attention and support. Spending time with the kids and being a positive force in their lives is more important than my documentary endeavors. Below, boys play cards under the shade of a tree.

Most children come to LIA when Tanzania’s Social Welfare department has deemed their home an unfit environment in which to raise a child – an abusive situation, parents have died and surviving relatives are unable to care for the child, etc. This week LIA took in two children from the streets of Moshi, the nearest sizable town. Both are around the age of 10 (they don’t know their own ages). Neither can read or write.

I’ve been dedicating much of my time to Yohannas, pictured above on his first night off the streets. He’s a good-natured boy, but has trouble communicating, sometimes preferring grunts and sounds to verbal communication. Friday I took him to the market and bought him a few new outfits – a needed makeover from his tattered and oversized street clothes. Yesterday he and I attended Easter services in Moshi with his friend Henry, a boy who has lived at LIA since 2001. Below, a Maasai boy uses his vestments to catch fish in a river in the town of Boma Ng’ombe, where Light in Africa has two children’s homes.

The great Mt. Kilimanjaro, when not concealed by clouds, watches benevolently over the homes and ministries of Light in Africa. It remains in sight even several hundred miles away from its foothills. Lately it’s had quite a dusting of snow on its peaks. As we’re now in the rainy season, the precipitation falls as snow in the higher altitudes. Below, the view from my house every morning.

My Swahili has improved, even in just the last week. It’s my goal to become fluent in the next six months. I’m taking private lessons one day a week and taking every opportunity to converse with and learn from my Tanzanian friends, all of whom are eager to help me learn more. Below, a woman in the town of Mererani.

In addition to its housing of the elderly and orphaned, LIA has been expanding into a seemly forgotten town of Mererani, an hour’s drive from the Kilimanjaro airport. In the dusty plains below the Eastern Arc Mountains lies Mererani, the world’s only known source of Tanzanite.

The presence of the gem in the hills above town hasn’t brought prosperity to its residents. Most of the wealth is held here by Tanzanite One, a South African mining company, or by many of the private owners who mine the precious stone from their own sectors, paying miners only when a gem is found. Below, women’s kangas hang from the washing line along a Mererani street.

Mererani is one of Tanzania’s poorest towns. Its geographic location doesn’t aid its economy. Sprawled along the northern Maasai Steppe, dry and parched Mererani is a flood plain for the draining waters from the nearby city of Arusha. After two or three days of heavy rains the town is rendered completely isolated as roads into town flood and become impassable. Below, cornfields along the road into town at sunset after heavy rains.

It is here that Mama Lynn, as Mrs. Elliot is known to Tanzanians, has chosen to re-focus much of her organization’s energy in the last year. Mererani is home to Light in Africa’s first permanent food kitchen, serving over 400 a day, six days a week. Most of the food is provided by the American NGO, Kids Against Hunger, while Light in Africa covers the costs of the facility and labor. Kids Against Hunger also provides much of the food that LIA serves in its children’s homes.

LIA’s food kitchen serves mostly children, most of whom are the sons and daughters of the miners working in the hills above town. Recently a group of adults has formed called Light in Africa group. The group, which has about 100 members not including children, is made up of HIV positive men and women. They approached LIA for help because they were not receiving enough food and nutrition at home and their health was declining. Below, Christina Manase, 32, is a widow living with AIDS in Mererani. She and her four children come to receive meals at the LIA food kitchen six days a week.

Light in Africa group members also receive breakfast each day. Nutritional upkeep as well as a routine antiretroviral drug regimen is essential for living a healthy life when HIV+. Since beginning the food program for adults, members of Light in Africa group have seen their CD4 counts skyrocket from the double digits to well into the hundreds, often reaching numbers of persons living without HIV. Below, Joycie Munisi, 50, is also a widow living with HIV. She and her five children are members of Light in Africa group.

In Africa, many NGOs partner together without even knowing it. The members of Light in Africa group are not helped solely by LIA. Every month they travel by bus to the city of Arusha, where the Italian charity DREAM (Drug Resources Enhancement against AIDS and Malnutrition) gives monthly health screenings as well as a month’s supply of antiretroviral therapy to the group’s members. The only problem is getting to Arusha, which is often a challenge from Mererani, not to mention a financial strain.

This month, a LIA volunteer from the UK named Ruth used some of her funds she raised in England to pay transport fees to and from Arusha for some 30 group members who needed assistance. Volunteers and the project money they raise before arriving in Tanzania allow LIA to make an even deeper impact in the lives of those they serve.

LIA asks that each of the volunteers that come to serve raise about $1000 for the organization. However, the money goes straight out into the community; 100% is used to help people in the surrounding area in need. LIA constantly keeps a file of the needs of Tanzanians in the area, a list that is seemingly endless. When volunteers arrive, they decide themselves what specific projects they’d like to fund with the money they’ve raised. Below, a girl on the streets of Mererani.

Through the volunteer program, medical clinics have been established, costly medical operations funded, tuition for school children paid and much more. Amina Lasta, 18, below, and her child Upendo, the eventuality of rape, were living in an overcrowded, dilapidated shack before LIA volunteers built her and her family a new concrete house in 2007.

LIA has achieved lasting impact in this area of Northern Tanzania. Its services continue to expand. This has been done without funding from grants or large partner organizations, whose money tends to follow along with the imposition of a strict bureaucracy. Funding largely comes from individuals and congregations, perhaps tourists who have passed through and are moved to do more than climb the highest mountain in Africa or snap pictures of game on the plains of the nearby Serengeti.

“The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few” (Matthew 9:37). Never have I seen a more fitting description of the work here in Tanzania, where the immense task ahead of us vastly outweighs those willing to take it on.

Visit Light in Africa.