Framing the Future: Conservation and Connection Through a Camera Lens

Our friend of the month for August is Georgina Goodwin, an award-winning documentary photographer based in Nairobi, Kenya. Whether documenting refugee children in Tanzania, post-election violence in Kenya, or community conservation in northern Kenya, Georgina uses her lens to spotlight resilience, truth, and hope. 

Georgina Goodwin

Could you tell us a bit about your upbringing and the work you do?

I grew up in Kenya surrounded by wide skies, wildlife, and stories of people deeply connected to the land. Those early experiences instilled in me a profound respect for both nature and community. Today, I work as a documentary photographer and storyteller, focusing on conservation, environment, and human rights across East and Central Africa. My work weaves together photography, short film clips, and narrative to connect audiences with the urgent need to protect both people and the planet.

Please share more about how your passion took shape and perhaps a defining moment when you realised photography was your calling. 

Photography began for me as a way of holding onto fleeting moments of beauty and connection. But very quickly it grew into a tool for advocacy. The defining moment came when I was documenting Kenya’s 2007 elections; I continued to take photos during the post-election violence, where many times I witnessed atrocities that would otherwise have gone undocumented had I not captured them with my camera. My images became part of the ‘Kenya Burning’ exhibition, which toured the country months later, helping Kenyans to see what happened and commit to “never again”. My images were shortlisted for the Prix Bayeux Calvados War Correspondence Award in 2008. I knew then the power of photography for impact and change. That was when I knew this was not just a career, but my calling.

Since then, I’ve used my photography as a tool for positive change for social issues, fundraising for cancer and women’s health, and for the environment, where communities see the value of keeping their land for wildlife, and their conservation decisions are providing for a brighter future. I also contribute my images to online print sales with proceeds that give back to conservation initiatives across Africa. When I look back at my 20-year career, I see repeatedly how an image can do more than document; it can move people to care, to act, and to imagine new possibilities. 

LionMania: Portrait of a lioness mid-tussle with another lioness, stops and stares directly at the camera

At its core, how do you distinguish documentary photography from other genres, and what does this medium allow you to express that others don’t?

Documentary photography is grounded in truth and authenticity. It’s not staged, and it doesn’t seek perfection. Instead, it seeks honesty. Unlike other genres, it allows me to express complexity: joy and struggle, resilience and fragility, humanity and wildness. It gives space for nuance, which is essential in telling the layered stories of both people and ecosystems. It also connects me to the space where I feel grounded and serious about telling important stories from our world. 

Can you share a moment when one of your wildlife photographs directly contributed to awareness or action for conservation?

One example that stays with me is a photograph I took for the front cover of Conservation International’s 3D virtual reality film ‘My Africa’, of a Samburu girl called Naltwasha and a young, orphaned elephant Shaba, at Reteti Elephant Sanctuary in northern Kenya. The image shows them meeting for the first time and was used for the front cover of the film, directly reflecting and amplifying its message to bring viewers up close and personal with community conservation in northern Kenya. Since the release of the film in April 2018, this image has been used to exemplify gentleness, community-led conservation and our connection with nature. Most recently, it has become a part of the curated ‘Prints for Nature’ fine art print collection, with proceeds going to Conservation International. 

Naltwasha meets orphaned Shaba in northern Kenya’s Reteti Elephant Sanctuary

From your work on refugee children in Tanzania to capturing conservation stories like Reteti Elephant Sanctuary, how do you balance the emotional intensity of social issues with showing resilience, hope, and connection?

The balance lies in seeing the whole story. Yes, there is struggle and loss, which can be challenging not only to capture but to manage emotionally. There is also strength, dignity, and wisdom. I aim to photograph people and wildlife not only in their vulnerability but in their resilience. This not only helps to keep me grounded in my hope to reconnect people back to nature and the planet, but also creates stories that empower rather than diminish, that invite compassion rather than pity, and that highlight solutions rather than despair.

What have been some of the highlights in this journey?

Highlights for me are often not about awards or exhibitions but about the people and places I’ve had the privilege to work with. In Tides of Protection along Kenya’s coast, it is the community, the rangers and the seaweed-farming women who show me about resilience and adaptation in the face of climate change. In the Mara, it is Maasai elders who remind and show me how conservation can be rooted in indigenous wisdom. These encounters continuously inspire me and shape not just my work, but who I am.

“No Water, No Life: Amina Suleiman stands with what’s left of her livestock outside her home in central Somaliland after the region suffered four consecutive seasons with no rain, leading to devastating drought

Your photographs have won many awards and been seen across the world. How have these platforms shaped your reach, and do they influence your sense of responsibility as a visual storyteller? 

These platforms have amplified the voices of people and places I photograph, far beyond what I could have imagined. To see my work from western Kenya highlighting ‘safe water’ on a billboard in Times Square or my conservation images in the Louvre and as far as Japan and Colombia is humbling because it means these stories are reaching the world. With that visibility comes responsibility: to always tell stories ethically, with dignity, and to spark not just awareness but real change.

How do you nurture emerging African storytellers, particularly women, and what advice do you offer to help them find their voice? 

I believe mentorship is one of the most powerful forms of conservation. By equipping young storytellers, especially women, with skills, confidence, and networks, I can help ensure that the next generation of stories will be told by those who are closest and who live those stories every day. My advice is simple: stay rooted in truth. Your voice matters, your perspective is unique, and the world needs your stories. Photography is not just about seeing, it’s about being seen and helping others to be seen.