I am forever curious and restless, and my life as a photographer allows me to explore the human experience in many ways. In 2006 after watching a documentary on photojournalists, I had an overwhelming emotional reaction. As a mother of 5 I couldn’t simply run off and become a war photographer, but, it led me to seek out what this reaction meant. The answer came quickly, as it often does if we are on the right track.   I wanted to photograph and work with meaning on subjects that had some urgency, to use my skills to make a difference. I have always wanted to give voice and strength in some way to people and situations that needed support, so working in the area of humanitarian aid and development was an opportunity that came within days of seeing the documentary, and I began volunteering for a local NGO. Within 2 years I was on my way to Africa and India to photograph the lives of some of the poorest people in the world in relation to their access to water. I had yet another strong reaction while working in field that first time for 8 weeks, and that was a similar powerful feeling that I was in fact doing what I was meant to be doing.  Since then I have been able to travel to Haiti, and more recently to Kenya.  My work has widened to include other human rights issues that include HIV/AIDs, FGM and Child Marriage.  I have been able to straddle many different worlds and this has helped me to understand myself even better and how I fit into these worlds.

Casey Kasoma was one of the first women I photographed, her story brought me to tears and had a huge impact on me in terms of what the overwhelming state of affairs is for most of our world, and yet her bravery and resilience was inspiring.

CASEY - entering the compound where 2 small red huts were situated, I became aware that there was something different here compared to the hut we had just visited.   There, the home was filled with stacks of newspaper, and much of the family's belongings, cooking utensils and rough home made furniture, all verging on an African version of "hoarders".  Here in Casey's yard I couldn't help but notice immediately the spartan conditions, lack of garbage and ultra clean swept floor as we entered her hut.  The decorative paint around the window openings, the painted cement floor, even a small seperate front entryway that welcomed us in.  

Once inside, the 62 year old Casey nearly slumped in a chair as she wept telling her story.  She was currently in charge of 6 of her grandchildren, her husband had died the year before (possibly of HIV, although Zambians hardly ever admit to this, they are usually simply "very ill") and her own children, parents of her grandchildren had died of HIV, leaving her all alone.  She struggled daily to find enough money by selling small bags of mealie, meal (ground corn) and small bags of coal.  This would hopefully give her enough money to buy the food for one meal a day to feed her family.  Her situation is not unusual, but her heart seemed broken, brightening up a little when her youngest grandaughter came near her.

Clean water is crucial to these people that live day to day existence, one day of illness means no money, and no meal.