New York Times
Photographer: Kang-Chun Cheng
Heidi: “Find a place you trust and then try trusting it for a while” was one of the truths of activist Corita Kent. What drew you to Nairobi as a home base for 4 years and counting?
KC: I get this question a lot, which makes sense! My first time in Kenya was in 2018––I’d just finished my post-grad fellowship in Arctic Norway and Finland, staying with Sami reindeer herders for nearly a year and a half (unusual, I know)––and was feeling lost. I’d studied ecology and studio art for my bachelor’s and had little idea what I wanted to do. The Arctic was amazing because I was more or less working as a long-form documentarian, staying with a few families over months, following them around, taking photos, and asking lots of questions. My project was about how climate change and tech are impacting traditional reindeer herders and their identity and culture. But I felt out of place coming back to the US, where most of my peers were working in banking or consulting, or pursuing more education––I knew none of that was for me. I visited a good friend in Nairobi, who’s Kenyan, and invited me to go ‘figure out life’ with her, and ended up staying for 8 months. It was my first time living in a city, full stop, and an African city undergoing remarkable changes at that. I just remember feeling very curious about everything, and how much buzz was going on.
I ended up moving to Nairobi, nearly inadvertently, in early 2020, which is when I started seriously looking into how to work as a journalist/documentary photographer. It was a steep learning curve, having not only zero connections to the industry, but also knowing nothing about pitching/the editorial process. But I was very drawn to it since it felt like a neat way to engage and learn about what is happening around us.
I think ultimately I’m drawn back to Nairobi time and time again for a few reasons: because it feels like home––I spent a lot of time building my community there!–– and the diversity in landscapes is amazing. I love spending time outdoors; there’s great climbing, hiking, deserts, a beautiful coast, savannahs- a lot of weekend adventures abound. From a professional outlook, it’s amazing how many underreported stories there are within Kenya, a country very saturated by journalists, both foreign and local. We’re very lucky to enjoy great press freedom, especially relative to neighboring countries since I don’t generally cover breaking news, I love working on stories that have just been sitting there for a while, years even, that no one else has picked up.
You continue to explore the mysterious kidney disease affecting coastal and rural communities in Sri Lanka – how long have you been working on this story?
I first became interested in Sri Lanka in late 2022, when I was semi-stranded there trying to get a visa to India for a friend’s wedding. I ended up working on a couple of stories about how fishermen there are heavily impacted by both climate change and the ongoing economic crisis. My time there really stuck with me, and I became connected with a few Sri Lankan researchers, which is how I came to learn about the kidney disease linkage. Besides Ed Kashi’s work some years ago, which is more confined to the photojournalism realm. I hardly remember any reporting on chronic kidney diseases of unknown causes (CKDUs) in media, and feeling like that was a gap that could be filled.
How do you integrate and gain trust in the community for your photo essays that deal with vulnerable communities?
I think this is a perennially tough question to answer! Amongst my photojournalist friends, we have ongoing conversations about what we’re doing, our motivations, how the result is perceived, etc. For instance, a hot topic is whether or not to ‘parachute’ into a community (meaning, report on a place you are not well integrated in/familiarized with). There’s a harmful precedent of how this was done in the past, notably by white men, and I do think there is a much sharper awareness in the current ecosystem against that. There’s also the stance that bringing in different sets of experiences and perspectives can help tell stories and advocate for certain communities.
I usually work with a local ‘fixer’ (lingo for translator or guide), or a researcher familiar with the community at hand. They help explain my motivation for being there– what story I’m working on–to set the context for the questions I’m asking. From my set of experiences, whether it’s northern Kenya or Sri Lanka, I find that the folks I’m working with are often very marginalized within their communities due to their ethnicity or remoteness––are generally very happy to share their experiences, and glad someone is paying attention. This is not to write off very real questions about foreigners not approaching communities in good faith, but I am someone who very much believes in vibes–in the sense that it’s hard to hide your real motivation. If you’re genuine and sincere, people can sense that––it’s something that transcends cultural and linguistic barriers.
And of course, the more time you have, the better. It’s hard to photograph folks with sensitivity and intimacy if you’re only there for a hot minute. I ended up photographing the same fishing group in Kalpitiya, northwestern Sri Lanka, in December 2022 and January 2024, which isn’t something that happens often. Having a few days to hang out so people not only understand why you’re there but are used to your presence and just go about their normal business, is a real luxury.
For the recent New York Times article, how long were you there? Was that a continuation of your Atmos piece?
I was there just under 3 weeks, from late January to mid-February of this year! And yes, it indeed was a continuation of the Atmos piece. I started in Negombo, just north of the capital Colombo, to Kalpitiya, and then to Medirigiriya (central) and Batticaloa (eastern), before heading south to Matara to try to get a full scope of the CKDU hotspot regions. This was my first original pitch that had gotten accepted by the Times (meaning I presented the story idea), which was very exciting–in the past, a photo editor had commissioned me to take photos to accompany the text.
The story behind this Sri Lanka story is that I’d applied to the Pulitzer Center and International Women’s Media Foundation for funding to make the reporting possible (the state of the industry is that few outlets have the means to pay for story expenses, and if you want to do it, you often end up spending your own money….). The Pulitzer Center requires ‘letters of commitment’ from publications as part of the application, to show that they will fund a story that’s getting published, and I’d gotten 3, but it was rejected. At that point, I’d invested so much time into these stories, that I thought I might as well go and do this on my budget and dime. But I’d pitched this to the science/climate editor at the Times I’d worked with previously, and 2 days after getting to Colombo, we had a call with the staff writer who was interested in the story. It was a big moment for me! I felt like I was being treated like a colleague, not just a disposable freelancer. I feel like admitting to them that I was already in Sri Lanka was a bit of a bold move, haha.
Your photos are full of emotion – is the edit difficult? You’re holding a lot of space for people/community.
It’s always special getting to work on stories that are personal or sensitive. I remember having this feeling, when I met with the subject who was the most ill, whose photo ultimately wasn’t in the final edit. I had a hard time spending time with him because he was so frail he couldn’t leave his bed and was clearly in a lot of pain. At that moment, something in me just felt like it was collapsing; it felt really wrong to be there. I took a few bad photos and rushed to leave. He and his wife had both been sick for collective decades and were barely scraping by without any income. And the wife made a point of thanking me, saying no one had ever come to ask them questions about their health before. That moment, as painful as it was, kind of amplified why I wanted to work on this story to begin with, even though I didn’t feel like the right person to do it at that moment.
What would you tell your younger self now about those acknowledgments and the work that goes into them?
While being in the thick of it, as a full-time editorial freelancer, I’m not great about taking stock of how far I’ve come. But I’d tell my younger self that no one is going to permit you to do any of these things––you have to find the drive and commitment within yourself. And that what I want is actually within reach, it does take a lot of work, but the agency and feeling of being engaged is worth it. I don’t like it when people describe journalism/photojournalism as ‘more than a job,’ but in a sense, it’s kind of true. I become very invested in my work in a way that makes me feel like I need to set better boundaries, haha.
At the same time, even though I’ll endlessly gripe about how this industry doesn’t feel sustainable (at the rate I have to work/keep on top of stories, there’s an expiration date to it–it’s not possible to have a family, for instance, but I suppose that’s true for quite a few industries!), the influx of newsroom closures, the fact that rates haven’t been raised in decades––I don’t see myself wanting to do anything else. I’m a gut-feeling kind of person–at the end of the day, I love what I do, and will keep doing it unless I’m forced to change.
Congratulations on your long list of grants, awards, and recognition
– which are the most memorable for you and why?
Thank you! They are special in different ways :) being accepted as part of the Women Photograph mentorship class was a pretty visceral moment since I remember coming across the website more than 5 years ago, and just being blown away by the quality and scope of what these fantastic photojournalists were working on globally. I remember wondering if I would ever be able to make such work or have anything to contribute. I think I applied 4 or 5 times to the mentorship class before getting in!
Can you tell us about https://www.thexylom.com/
I was working with Alex Ip, the editor-in-chief of The Xylom, on a number of stories last year! It’s America’s only science outlet run by and for the AAPI community. They’re 100% transparent with their finances which is unusual, and I really respect that. As the news industry is in constant flux, it’s good to get a sense of who is funding what you read. Alex and Shreya, the newsroom fellow, were very kind in inviting me to join as the editor at large earlier this year–which basically means I’m a regular contributor. I was touched when I heard the news, and am glad that they want more of my reporting, mostly from East Africa!