Zambia’s great national parks are known for abundance, vast floodplains, powerful rivers, and wildlife that moves without fences.

But when I traveled through Kafue National Park, the Lower Zambezi, and South Luangwa, the wilderness told a different story.

An anthrax outbreak had swept through the region. Elephants, hippos, and buffalo lay where they had fallen, their massive bodies stark against the landscape.
The air carried a heavy, intrusive smell, one that followed us from riverbanks to open plains. It was a reminder that even in places that feel timeless, nature can be brutally vulnerable.

Lions, too, were affected. Once symbols of effortless strength, some showed signs of infection, their movements slower, their presence subdued. Yet amid the crisis, hope arrived quietly.
Veterinarians worked deep in the bush, treating the animals with care and urgency. Against expectations, the lions survived, life reclaiming its balance.

In Kafue, the wild came closer than ever before. A lioness chose the space beneath my raised room as shelter, resting there with her two cubs.
Each evening, returning along a long wooden boardwalk, I paused before stepping forward, listening, scanning the shadows, respecting her claim to the land.
Only when I was sure she had moved on did I continue.

This was not the Zambia of postcard perfection. It was raw, unsettling, and deeply real. As a photographer, I came searching for images of beauty. I left with something more enduring:
an understanding that travel, at its best, reveals not only wonder, but responsibility, fragility, and profound respect for the wild.

All selected works are available as fine-art prints on Archival Hahnemühle Photo Rag® Baryta 315 g/m²
Just select the number and message me through the contact page with the desired dimensions (60x33 - 80x45 - 100x56 cm).