When I started out as a photographer in my home country of Bangladesh, my focus was on social documentary. Later, I developed personal projects and travelled more widely but in 2013 and 2014, the political situation in Bangladesh became unstable, with attacks on protesters, secular people and LGBT activists. Images of atrocities were widely shared on social media and I developed a love-hate relationship with my own work. I didn’t know how to convey the horror of disasters, both man-made and natural, without it becoming normalised. It was a very dark time for me.
I took a step back and, early in 2019, joined the UN’s World Food Programme (WFP) in Bangladesh as a communications officer. Three years later, I moved to WFP Yemen, and this is one of many pictures I took there, photographing alongside my comms work. I got to travel to five provinces – more places than many of my Yemeni colleagues will have been able to visit in the 10 years since the start of the civil war. Even then, I could not go to the north and journeys involved armoured vehicles and armed escorts.
The aim of my photographs was to get beyond the perception of Yemen as a country in conflict, beset with poverty and suffering, and to focus instead on food, to highlight the Yemeni people and their culture. I got to sample and photograph many Yemeni staples – grilled fish, meat and flatbreads cooked over hot stones, coffee and sidr honey.
Here we see “Uncle Adib”, who hosted us on the island of Socotra, part of an archipelago over 300km from the mainland. We didn’t experience the same security issues as we did elsewhere and things felt much more relaxed. Uncle Adib was keen to show us his nursery for dragon’s blood trees. I took many pictures of these strange, umbrella-shaped trees, which are native to the archipelago.
Socotra is also covered in goats. I was told there are four or five of them to every human. Piles of goatskins are a common sight, as they’re used to preserve all sorts of food, including milk, olives and butter. There are few flights to Socotra and, for more than half the year, the island is pretty much cut off, partly because of the very strong winds that create mountain-like sand dunes. These also make fishing impossible. So the people of Socotra have learned to make the best of what’s available and preserve what they can.
Most of my photographs were in black and white, but this one demanded colour. Uncle Adib is opening a goatskin that contains date paste a year and a half old. It was a wild moment – we had no idea dates could be preserved like that. You can see other skins piled behind. He showed us one with three-year-old paste in it, which he used to make date juice. I have to admit, I’m not fond of dates, but people I was with tried it and made polite noises.
I look back on my time in Yemen with a heavy heart, because I know the population faces so many struggles. But I’m glad I got to meet so many different people, like the soldier who acted as my escort in Seiyun, and who I photographed while he was singing for us; and Sahala in Mukalla, who I took a portrait of after we’d spent an hour talking about her daughters’ education and her dreams for them.
Last year, I curated an exhibition in Brussels with 40 of my Yemen images. The Yemeni ambassador came to me with tears in his eyes, held my hand and said: “No one has shown my country like this. Thank you so much.” I still get goose bumps thinking about that.
Sayed Asif Mahmud’s CV
Born: 1986 Rangpur, Bangladesh.
Trained: Pathshala, South Asian Media Institute.
Influences: Antoine d’Agata, Denis Dailleux, Nan Goldin and many others.
Low points: “From 2013 to 14, there were lots of political changes in my home country which affected me in my personal life and as an artist. My focus shifted towards the violence and atrocities. I was also trying to figure out effective artistic expression to convey my thoughts. I almost lost hope and got detached from my work.”
Top tip: During my time as a documentary photography teacher, I always stressed the importance of self-reflection to my students. I encouraged them to question their motives and the purpose behind their photography. This’s a journey that doesn’t have a simple answer, and it requires honesty and perseverance.