Documentary Media Centre

14/03/2026

One week to go .... look forward to hosting our table at this event 12-4pm, promoting the 'On Heritage' newspaper (in development by Independent Heritage Network) and Conflict Memory Education Centre Conflict Reportage Archive

21/01/2026

Delighted to be on the Board of Jurors for the 9th Kaduna International Film Festival from 25th August in Nigeria 🇳🇬 .... still open for submissions https://lnkd.in/edKFWwss

14/11/2025

By 2012, I’d spent over a decade working as a photojournalist in some of the most difficult places on earth.

I’d seen war, corruption, and abuse up close, and I’d seen what happens when stories are told badly.

Around that time, I was running workshops for African Union soldiers in Somalia, teaching them how to photograph their missions responsibly.

I was also training photographers and communications teams for UN agencies and NGOs across East Africa; people documenting famine, displacement, and conflict.

And everywhere I went, I kept noticing the same gap.

The NGO world and the media world didn’t speak the same language.

When I worked for newspapers, every image had to come with a caption:
Who is this? Where was it taken? What’s happening? When?

But when I looked at what NGOs were producing, it was often hundreds of beautiful photographs with no context; no names, no captions, no metadata.

Without that, the images couldn’t be used by journalists. They had no life beyond the press release.

At the same time, I was meeting extraordinarily talented local photographers. Men and women who understood their communities far better than any foreigner ever could.

They had empathy, access, and trust.

But they didn’t have the training or the connections to get their work published.

It made no sense to me.

So I started Arete as a bridge between those worlds.

A place where humanitarian organisations could get high-quality, ethical visual storytelling, and where local photographers could find work, support, and professional development.

11/11/2025

There’s a lot of talk these days about ethical storytelling.

Workshops. Toolkits. Campaigns. Every agency seems to have one.

And while it is important that it’s finally being discussed, I find it curious that it needs to be marketed.

When I started out as a photojournalist, ethics weren’t a separate category of conversation. They were simply how you worked.

You didn’t publish a photograph that would endanger someone.
You didn’t take an image without consent or context.
You didn’t show suffering as spectacle.

It wasn’t theory, it was instinct.

If you broke those rules, you lost the trust of the community you were in. And once you lose trust, you lose access, safety, and truth.

Over the years, I’ve seen what happens when that line is crossed.

When photographers push for the dramatic shot rather than the honest one.

When NGOs fill their archives with anonymous faces they can no longer identify.

When stories about “impact” erase the people they claim to represent.

I founded Arete partly because I was tired of seeing that disconnect between the people taking the images and the people living the stories.

Our work focuses on helping local photographers tell the stories of their own communities.

They don’t need us to teach them empathy. They already have it.

What they need is a framework that values accuracy, consent, and longevity as much as composition.

Ethical storytelling isn’t about looking good in a report.

It’s about being accountable to the people whose lives you document.

And it’s not something you add on at the end of a project, it’s how you start.

With honesty. With curiosity. With respect.

So when I see “Ethics Week” campaigns online, I sometimes smile.

Because for many of us who’ve done this work for decades, that conversation has always been there, in every caption, every frame, every decision about what not to show.

10/11/2025

17/10/2025

Raising awareness of the Leicester abolitionist's achievements and the society's fundraising goals.

15/10/2025

Roots run deep, even through centuries of struggle. Black history in Britain stretches back long before Windrush: African soldiers in Roman Britain, musicians at Tudor courts, sailors, scholars, and healers, all carrying culture, knowledge, and pride across generations.

During slavery, people held on to what mattered most: language, family, stories, and traditions. These acts of resilience - the ability to survive and maintain identity under oppression - are the heart of our roots.

Acts of solidarity, like the sugar boycotts organised by Elizabeth Heyrick and others, were meaningful because they recognised the strength and humanity of those enslaved. Pride in our roots comes from acknowledging how communities preserved culture and dignity despite centuries of hardship.

Deep roots create strong foundations. Heritage, resilience, and culture continue to shape Britain today.

13/10/2025