By Darcy Keely
Photographer7 Aug 2025 - 5 Minute Read
You can spend hours online, trawling through google images, watching glamorous TikTok content, reading blogs by people who swear they know exactly what to pack in your suitcase. None of it prepares you. There was a moment where I had to look up and realise ‘I’m actually here right now. Only once’. The air’s cold in a way I didn’t pack for (thanks, bloggers), my breath is visible before the day warms up but I hold it waiting for the moment, and the world feels like it’s holding its breath with me. It’s not Africa from the travel brochure or the nature docs. It’s quieter.
I had thought food was one of the only things you could experience time and time again as if it was the first. But out there on the Zambezi, on a boat so low you could skim the surface with your palm, I realised a quiet magical moment might be the other one.
We drifted toward the reeds and three elephants rose from the long grass like they knew we were coming. Mosquitoes whined in the air. I forgot about my camera for a brief moment, Galia and Gabe (the other two scholarship recipients) were grinning like kids. I must have had the same giddy smile, my cheeks did hurt after. Dan and Zora, mentors, looked just as lit up. That struck me. It wasn’t novelty that made it special. It was sharing this incredible moment. And like food, I could tell, even for Dan and Zora, this was just as powerful after a lifetime as it was the first
I started to let go of the need to “get the shot.” I let the moment breathe. That stillness turned into something else, preparedness. And in that, my work finally started to say something honest. I didn’t need to rush to change lenses, or panic that I might miss the action after that day. I made my decisions on how to shoot in the morning, and I left the day to dictate theexperience.
Much like the animals out there, we built our own kind of pack. A funny little tribe, shaped by camera straps and eagerness, navigating this place with wide eyes and different strengths. We relied on each other. Galia had this incredible ability to capture mood, I would almost call it capturing the inbetween. Gabe had an instinct for framing chaos just right. I was learning.
The mentorship was extraordinary. But the magic extended beyond our small crew. It was the people around us who gave this place its spirit. It wasn’t just about animal facts or safari trivia. It was nuanced. How the water rises or where the sun hits the hills and spills into the river (a truly unforgettable afternoon even the camera couldn’t capture). The way silence settles as we all collectively hold our breath before something moves.
One afternoon, our tracker, Noel, decided it was time we learned something new. He explained that a classic bush game was to pick up springbok dung pellets and shoot them from your mouth like a pea shooter. We all weren’t sure if we were being taken for a ride before I volunteered to go first and suddenly the rest of the group was in on it, spitting tiny brown marbles into the scrub to see who could go the distance (For the record, I won. Take that, Noel.) That’s the strange lesson in it all. You think you’re going to Africa to see the animals. But the animals just teach you how to see everything else.
You start to notice how different creatures coexist, some in tension, some in effortless harmony. And then you see us. People from different countries, with different stories, different attitudes, just living together.
I came here to get better at photography. I’m leaving with sharper instincts, solid friendships, and a real appreciation for the kind of storytelling that requires a little patience, precision, and a lot of bug spray. (Yes, the mosquitoes have unionized.)
That’s the wonder of travel, I think. Sometimes you need to look at something not human to really understand what it means to be human.
Note - this last image is courtesy of Galia Kleinburg.
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Darcy Keely is a photographer and recipient of the 2024 World Nomads Travel Photographer Scholarship.
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