There’s a quiet magic beneath the ocean’s surface that most will never witness. It’s not the dramatic crash of waves or the sharp elegance of a shark’s fin—it’s the sway of seagrass meadows in the current, breathing with the ocean like a slow, steady heartbeat. The first time I swam over one, I felt something shift inside me. It wasn’t just a patch of grass in the sea; it was a living, breathing ecosystem, home to creatures large and small, a hidden world of resilience and fragility. I knew then that my camera had work to do.
Finding My Purpose Beneath the Waves
Photography has never been just about taking pictures for me. It’s about witnessing, about translating something vast and wild into a frame that holds emotion, urgency, and connection. Over the years, my work has taken me across Africa, documenting conservation efforts and the delicate relationship between humans and nature. But the ocean—its stories, its struggles—has always pulled at me the hardest. Seagrasses, often overlooked in the grand narrative of marine conservation, became a subject I couldn’t ignore. These underwater meadows are the quiet warriors of the sea—storing carbon, protecting coastlines, sheltering life—and yet, they are disappearing fast, unnoticed by most.
So, when the Vanga Seagrass Project in Kenya needed visuals to drive their message home, I knew this was where my work needed to be.
Giving Seagrass a Voice Through My Images
When people think of conservation, they often picture charismatic megafauna—elephants, lions, whales. But real conservation is about the entire web of life, even the parts that don’t make the headlines. Seagrass meadows might not have the fame of coral reefs, but they are just as vital.
The Vanga Seagrass Project, launched in 2020, is working to protect and restore these meadows while ensuring local communities benefit from conservation through sustainable practices and biodiversity credits. It’s the kind of initiative that proves conservation isn’t about locking nature away—it’s about working with it, finding solutions that serve both people and the planet.
As part of this effort, my images were used in the development of the following posters:
Why This Work Matters to Me
I don’t do this work just to take beautiful photographs. I do it because I believe images can shift mindsets. I do it because I’ve watched the ocean change before my eyes—reefs I visited years ago now bleached and lifeless, shorelines eroded, once-thriving fisheries depleted. I do it because conservation isn’t just about wildlife; it’s about communities, about futures.
The Vanga Seagrass Project is exactly the kind of movement that gives me hope. It’s grassroots. It’s real. It’s driven by people who understand that the ocean’s survival is tied to their own. To see my work contribute to their mission is deeply fulfilling—it reminds me why I pick up my camera, why I dive into these waters, why I won’t stop telling these stories.
What You Can Do
Seagrass conservation isn’t just a scientific issue—it’s a story about us, about our choices, about the world we want to leave behind. You don’t have to be a marine biologist to make a difference. Talk about it. Support local conservation initiatives. Reduce plastic waste. Advocate for policies that protect our oceans. The more people know, the more they care, and the more they care, the more they act.
This is why I do what I do. Because the ocean doesn’t have a voice, but I do. And as long as I have a camera in my hands, I’ll keep telling these stories, hoping they reach the people who need to hear them the most.