Our second 2018-19 team of talented photographers, videographers and visual storytellers went to the Hadzabe in Tanzania in February to create the next of many ‘Circle of Cultural Connection’ projects. They travelled to where the dirt track runs out, somewhere along the shores of Lake Eyasi, in the shadow of the Ngorongoro Crater.
Here at the edge of civilisation in East Africa, the Hadzabe eke out a meagre existence as hunter gatherers. While the encroachment of a modernising continent and the ever increasing closure of wildlife corridors have no doubt had an effect, their lifestyle closely reflects how humanity has existed for 90% of its history. Surviving in the Great Rift Valley, they are the last flashback to what society may have looked like in the cradle of life.
Want to know details about the experiences of the participants and their day-to-day during the project? Find all this and more in the project journal they wrote during the trip!
In this page you can also see a short clip of “behind the scenes”.
After rising at the crack of dawn, the half of the team travelling from Amsterdam assembled at Schipol, still sleepy but full of anticipation. Once through check-in it soon livened up over coffee and the conversation inevitably swung towards everything photography and what we hoped to capture in Tanzania.
After a comfortable 9 hour flight to Kilimanjaro, waiting in line for an hour to clear customs and then jumping in the car for an another hour, we finally arrived in Arusha. This was the last stepping stone before our final leg into the bush to Lake Eyasi.
At breakfast the next day we finally got to meet Mike (who’s journey from Denver had been a lot longer than everyone else’s) as well as James, one of our fixers. The promised 3 hour journey turned into a 6 hour bone rattling ride through the beautiful Tanzanian interior. In the late afternoon we arrived on the edge of the lake at the tented camp where we would be staying for the duration of the trip. After months of planning we were finally there, off the grid and within touching distance of the Hadzabe. The excitement was palpable.
The final member of the team joined us in the evening, Yusuph, our translator. Yusuph is Datoga, another tribe that live around the lake and the only ones that the Habzade have a relationship with. As a result he knows the Hadzabe well and can converse in their language of clicks. As our meeting goes on beyond sunset, Yusuph tries to teach us a few words and clicks. We all begin to realise how daunting it will be to try and communicate via language with the tribe.
Tanzania sits just below the equator so daylight hours fluctuate little year round. Combine that with a sparsity of electricity in rural areas means that life there revolves around the rising and falling of the sun. Getting up at the crack of dawn is something we have to get used to. Still yawning, we drove along the floor of the Great Rift Valley watching the sun rise and people busy with their morning rituals.
An hour later, driving through thick bush, 3 boys appeared out of the blue. We found them or maybe more accurately they found us. They hopped on the back of the jeep and guided us to the village. Excitedly they jumped off and encouraged us to follow them. We look around and all we saw were rocks, trees and bushes. But we could not have been more wrong. Nestled amongst the trees and bushes are several huts made of branches and grass. They blend into the surroundings perfectly appearing to be just another bush.
We were all a bit nervous about the first meeting, unsure of how they would react to our arrival? Slowly we followed the boys to a large tree and all of a sudden a large group of women and children appeared from it’s shadow to greet us, smiling and clicking. Their language involves clicking at the same time as speaking which is a difficult art to master so we soon fall back on communicating with hand signals and drawing in a book. We hide from the rising sun under the branches of the tree and joined their circle seated on the ground. As we began to introduce ourselves they told us their names in return, most are as long as Thai food is spicy.
After the exchange of names and some furtive glances to evaluate each other, the group relaxed and we felt comfortable enough to begin asking questions through Yusuph. We had done a lot of research so we had a basic understanding but delved deeper into their nomadic lifestyles and the survival skills upon which they rely to find food, water and shelter. In the frenzy that followed, the older children ended up taking us up to an outcrop of rocks where they shelter during the rainy season. On the way the girls showed us what berries were edible; red are a definite no no, orange you can eat but make your tongue numb and white are also ok but you have to remember to spit out the skin.
The boys also wanting to interact, began to show us their skill with a bow but with no game to shoot we challenged them to hit a notebook the size of a hand. They promptly obliterated it from 15m away. It quickly became clear that they learned these skills from an early age with some of the youngest boys also joining in. The girls meanwhile watched and laughed each time an arrow failed to hit its mark. Your ability to hunt dictates where you fall within their society with the chief being the best hunter.
Along the way we seemed to pick up a couple of extra cameramen. First James was given a camera to replace the phone he was busy snapping away on and then Angatley, one of the youngest boys in the tribe. We gave him a GoPro to film amongst the crags and he turned out to be a real Steven Spielberg. Within half an hour of getting his hands on the camera he was directing everyone to where they needed to stand and what they had to do.
In the afternoon, Yusuph took us to the Datoga, a tribe of blacksmiths that make arrowheads for the Hadzabe. They recycle all sorts of metal and on this occasion old rusty nails were used, the advantage of which is that they do not need to be heated in the forge. It was always the intention to see if we could purchase some arrowheads as a gift for the men and after 30 minutes of negotiating, we agreed on a price for 20 (and narrowly avoided a couple of marriage proposals).
It was 4.30am when the alarm sounded, time to join the men on their hunt. It was the first time we had met the men because the day before they’d been hunting far away but we arrived in the throngs of preparation, arrows being straightened and feathers applied, so any anxiety dissipated immediately.
There was no path through the bush. The men led at a ferocious pace, showing us how to jump from rock to rock and crawl through thickets of thorns. Almost all the vegetation seemed to be armed with rows of sharp spikes ready to impale us and seemingly impossible to avoid. As the men strode ahead at breakneck speed like it was any other weekday morning, we soon fell behind. After an hour or so we managed a couple of minutes rest and looked at each other and just laughed. Here we were stuck in Hyenaland, panting and sweating with nothing more than our cameras for protection.
When we finally caught up with the hunters, the feeling of satisfaction evaporated quickly when noticed that they were just waiting for us. However, what we didn’t realise until we got closer was that they had their first catch of the day, a Pygmy Owl. Shot through its right wing, it stared at us helplessly. The hunters did not let the bird suffer for long though. Andake placed the head in between his teeth and with a swift bite and twist of the hand, broke its neck. After 5 hours of hunting, the fruits of the hunt were a bit of honey, an owl and a bush baby which doesn’t sound much but quite often it can be nothing at all. We on the other hand had several hundred photographs, sweaty faces and bodies covered in bumps and scratches.
We arrived back in the village and started where we had left off the day before. We were starting to feel comfortable around the tribe and the feeling seemed to be mutual. The kids climbed all over us, desperate to see the photographs we were taking and play with our foreign clothes and hair.
Nikon had sponsored us with two really cool cameras so that we could let the tribe use themselves to document their own lives. The kids were over the moon. Having been the subject of many photographs up until this point they were now capable of making and reviewing their own. Each one taking turns to use the camera and point it at what they found most interesting.
The biggest hit of the day however was something Kieke brought, The Yellow Balloon book. Each page is covered in illustrations of the world and hidden somewhere amongst it all is a yellow balloon to find. Everyone seemed to understand the game and enjoyed the challenge, even the adults joined forces to help. One of the girls, Susa, seemed particularly happy with this gift and gave Kieke a big hug to say thank you. She stole all of our hearts.
Having spent the morning with the men showing us some of their prodigious bush skills, the women seemed equally interested in educating us in what they do, asking for our help in building a new hut. Within less than half an hour there was a frame constructed from branches that was as solid as a rock. The last touch was weaving long grass through the branches to complete the exterior shell. As a short people, having Estrella there proved very useful. She reached to the top to weave the last few blades of grass for the top of the roof. When done, the new homeowner proudly posed in front with her husband the chief and their 2 children for a photograph.
Pulling up at the village felt a bit different in the morning since we were one team member short. Ed had woken with a fever and stayed at camp to rest. Nevertheless we carried on seeking more contact with the tribe. The night before we had printed some photographs that we had made in the first two days and now handed them out. They had never seen themselves in print before and were extremely proud of their photographs.
The morning activity focussed around the ladies gathering berries and tubers (the edible part of a roots). They gathered bucketfuls of orange and white berries, which they found easily. Like little monkeys, the women jumped gracefully from branch to branch, climbing to the top and helping bend the branches over so that the others could also reach them.
Digging out tubers took a bit more effort, but this meant there was also time for stories and gossip. For a moment it resembled a very familiar scene you could witness anywhere in the world and the irony made us laugh. After 2 hours we returned and found that apparently we were not finished for the day. Next on the schedule was collecting water, which meant walking 1.5 hours to the closest water source. In the rainy season it is a river but right then it was dry. The women walked along the riverbed, picked a seemingly inconspicuous spot and sat down to start digging. Almost 1,5 meters down they hit what they were looking for, groundwater.
Once everyone had washed and enough water for the village was collected, we started our walk back, their heads balancing full buckets as though it was nothing. And all this time, babies were strapped to the backs of the women, not hindering them in the slightest. Estrella wanted to see if it was as easy as they made it look so she hoisted a bucket upon her own head for the return journey. The answer is that it was not easy, not at all.
In the afternoon we went with the men to gather wood and branches to make new arrows for the arrowheads we had given them. As a group they have very few possessions, just one axe and two knives but what they had they shared freely. One of the most beautiful lessons the Hadzabe taught us during our time with them is their ability and willingness to share everything. Whether you’re a man, woman, child or even with a complete stranger, everyone is equal.
It was during the time we watched them crafting branches into arrow shafts that we were able to witness another part of their education system. Boys as young as 3 or 4 were given the knives to sharpen their own branches into arrows. After they were finished they tested their handy work and their accuracy was mind blowing. It’s hard to imagine seeing children at the same age in our own culture being able or even allowed to do what we observed but this is the bush and you’re never too young to learn the lessons of survival.
By the time the sun set on the day, they had given us a lot of new experiences, deepening our understanding of their way of life. And then, just a few kilometers outside of their village, a hyena stroad casually across the road, lit up by the headlights of our jeep. We were silent, realising that despite the fun and games we had during the day, they really do live in the wild and it can be a dangerous place. This was their reality every day.
It was our last day and we still had so many questions. We decided to start by interviewing some of the members of the tribe underneath a big Acacia tree they use as a living space. The chief was first.
Shakwa looks like he is in his late 20s but his body language and his eyes tell a much older story. He sat down, his head adorned with a beaded headdress and his torso covered by an impala skin and he began to tell us the story of his tribe. He looked away for a moment and then continued talking about the daily demands of life in the bush and how proud he is of who they are. When asked about people from the village, he describes them as lost. He feels as though they given up on their culture, on their heritage.
Following the chief we interviewed Shumuyaa, N’Oye (N [click] Oye) and Haydi-e’ (Shakwa’s mother). They all glow with pride and excitement about their tribe, it’s culture and their lives. Asking if they had any dreams for the future, every single one of them started smiling and gave the same answer, ‘We live in the present and only worry about today and maybe tomorrow.’
The afternoon offered our last chance to capture the uniqueness of their culture. We started by shooting a video where each individual member spoke into the camera, recording the beautiful distinctness of their names. After that everyone was eager to pose for our last photographs.
The one thing we had not had a chance to capture up until then was a group portrait. We had chosen to shoot atop the outcrop of rocks where we had climbed the first day. The contrast between the hunters in the foreground against the backdrop of Lake Eyasi and the Ngorongoro Crater in the background seemed like the only fitting way of portraying how beautifully harsh life is there.
Nevertheless it was quite a challenge. We had an hour of daylight left to juggle a team of 4 photographers, a group of men we wanted to position but who were standing on another rock entirely (as well as not speaking the same language) and doing battle with the natural elements. The first of these elements came when N’Oye had to kill a green mamba lying in the rocks next to him, something he proudly hung around his neck like a piece of jewelry, another reminder of the differences between our 2 walks of life.
The second was was the rain. With everyone balanced on the highest rock, busy trying to shoot one more group portrait, sheets of water started smashing against the rocks. Whilst the team became concerned about the equipment we had up there, it became apparent that the tribe were equally as worried about their poison arrows getting wet.
We followed the men, sliding back back down the now slippery rocks, until we reached a small cave they used for shelter during the rainy season. They were already under a shower of rainwater gushing from the rocks above. And then something incredible happened. First they started laughing, but this morphed into singing and dancing. We just stood there, silently witnessing something very special. Eventually our cameras fell by our sides, unable to watch through a lens any longer, entranced by the music.
After the rain subsided we climbed the rest of the way out of the outcrop. Back down with the rest of the tribe,the men made a fire so they could dry off. The women and the children joined and the tribe started to dance and sing together. Shakwa took the lead, like a conductor, directing them through each song and dance.
As night fell the song died away and it was replaced by stories around the fire. There were many stories. Some were about their ancestors, some were jokes but mostly they were about what had happened in the week.
Andak one of the eldest of the boys spoke of the time he and a friend went searching for honey only to be rewarded with a number of bee stung arms. It was fascinating to see that someone potentially seen as a junior in the group’s hierarchy was given the time and respect to recant his own story. But before he could finish Ed made his own story when he tried to feed the fire but ended up burning his hand instead. As he hopped around in pain everyone laughed, probably because this is a lesson every Hadza child must learn the hard way.
Just before it was time to leave, Shakwa, seen as the strongest in the group, began to sing a lullaby to the smallest children. And then it was time to head home, this time for the last time. We said our final goodbyes and it truly felt as though we have made friends for life.
The alarm clock was given a break and we got a little lie in before starting the 6 hour journey back to Arusha. The atmosphere in the car was somewhat somber as we drove through along the dusty and bumpy road. Half way through the journey we could not help but reflect on the previous 4 days. The conversation inevitably turned to comparisons between the lives of the Hadzabe and our own, making us all feel rather emotional but maybe in slightly different ways. We were all ready for a few hours of relaxation when we got back to the accommodation in Arusha.
We split up for the first few hours which gave us the chance to call home and share of our experiences. It was the first time we had to tell the story and it turned out to be a challenge. Even writing this it is hard to find the words to paint a picture of the trip. And not only of our journey with the Hadzabe but also of our own personal journeys.
Our last few hours in Tanzania are spent together pooling the last of our ideas of how best to tell the story of the Hadzabe. We share photographs and videos and enjoy the last few hours of warm sunlight before heading to the airport.
Even more I was impressed by their egalitarian cooperation and support of one another. They did everything together, and everyone was accepted and included. The young boys go hunting with the men, and learn to make bows and arrows, and shoot with amazing accuracy at a very young age. The girls care for babies long before they have their own, and no mother raises her children without the involvement of all the women and girls. Babies are passed around and carried by many aunties.
I distanced myself from the group and walked into the bushes. I wasn’t sad, on the contrary. I was happy. About the place I was at, the journey I had overcome to get there, but most of all I was touched by these beautiful people called the Hadzabe.
I will take many things from my brief time with the Hadzabe, I think this will be what I value most, a greater sense that while life is full of many wonderful things, it is the relationships that we share with family, friends and the world around us that can be the most fulfilling and deserve the most attention.
Step into the world of the Hadzabe with the team! Learn more about their lifestyle and traditions with these interviews done by the team members.
Enjoy this great video, hear the Hadzabe telling their story and see the beautiful landscape around Lake Eyasi, Tanzania.
Lying in the shadows of the Ngorongoro Crater, on the edge of the Rift Valley is Lake Eyasi, a seasonal shallow endorheic salt lake. It is a stop for migrating flamingos and occasionally attracts hippos from the Serengeti during particularly wet periods of the rainy season but most importantly home to the Hadzabe, a tribe of hunter-gatherers (the way humanity has existed for 90% of its time on earth). An estimated 1,200 remain and genetic research has found them living in this corner of the world for some 40,000 years, qualifying them as ‘original people’ and making their language one of the oldest still in existence.
Hadzabe as a language resembles Khoisan (of the San people in Namibia, also hunter-gatherers) to a limited extent because of its use of clicks but stands alone from other languages in Tanzania. As a result it is only spoken by a small number of neighbours that the Hadzabe interact with and an even smaller number of anthropologists. They have no written record of their language so it takes years to learn but what is clear is that their vocabulary is based upon their natural environment, with an intricate vocabulary used to describe their world in a level of detail that does not exist in English. For example animals have different names according to their species, age, gender and condition.
Life in the bush is dictated by the abundance of water and food. As a result the Hadzabe are nomadic, never staying in one place too long to damage the surrounding ecosystem beyond repair, moving on before resources become exhausted. When a camp moves (a decision made by the women of the group), the first priority is a water source because subsequently they can read the landscape like a book. What might appear to be a barren savannah to us is bountiful larder to a Hadza (singular of Hadzabe). After choosing a new location the women search for a large Acacia and set about clearing any vegetation beneath it. Once clear, this will serve as a communal area, sheltered from the sun and providing a space to socialise and cook.
In the following days the women begin to build huts for each individual family unit. They start by felling young saplings and placing them into holes in the earth they have dugout. No more than one or two branches are ever taken at a time, ensuring nothing is ever wasted. Once firmly in the ground the branches are bent over and lashed together using bark stripped from them to resemble a small dome. After that long grass is collected and interwoven to cover the shell. What you have at the end is a small hut built from natural materials that blends seamlessly into the landscape and disappears back into it once left behind.
The hunter-gatherer lifestyle of the Hadzabe can be classified as an immediate-return economy; they obtain direct returns from their labours and usually consume it in the moment of return (men hunt bushmeat and women collect edible plants). From as young as 7 or 8, children consume up to half of their daily calorie intake on their own because of the nature of their education. As babies they are strapped to their mother’s backs, constantly witness to which plants are safe to eat and how to find them and from the moment they are able to walk, the boys are given a bow and learn how to hunt reptiles, birds and rodents near camp.
Bows (ko’obi) are made from the fresh branches of the Mutateko tree. Once cut down, the branch has it’s bark stripped and is heated over the fire to make it supple for straightening (bows can have up to 45 kilos of force). The same process is used for making arrow shafts and is often done before or after hunting and becomes a communal event with the smallest boys joining in to learn. Using their teeth they straighten the branches into arrows. The bow strings are taken from the ligaments of large animals like giraffes (however increasingly manmade fibres like nylon are being used because there are fewer large kills). Finally feathers from birds they catch are used to make the fletching at the back of the arrow for stability and accuracy.
Hunting can vary depending upon the time of year and the type of game. Usually on their own, they only hunt in larger numbers for large game like troops of baboons (their absolute favourite). For the majority of the year they trek for several hours a day (sometimes twice a day depending on how successful they are), covering large distances however during the dry season they may hunt from blinds near natural resources like water or Acacias (animals are attracted to it’s seed pods and flowers). If something small is caught like a bush baby or a hyrax then they will often make a fire where they are and eat straight away. If they are more successful then they bring their proceeds back to camp. Just about everything they can find in the bush represents a viable meal to the Hadzabe, the only things they avoid being elephants (because their hides are too think), amphibians and reptiles.
The other thing that the hunters are always on the search for is honey. It is one of their favourite food sources because it is so sweet. And it is because of its high sugar content that it is so important, providing an unequal mega boost of energy unlike any other in the bush (they also eat the larvae & pollen giving more complete nutrition). A Hadza is skilled enough to tell what the honey is going to taste like according to the flowers surrounding the hive and often has a favourite. They used to impose sanctions on honey collection during the dry season so that bees could store a surplus but this is now under pressure from outsiders who harvest the honey whenever they feel like it.
While the tribe loves meat, fat and honey, their diet is mainly based upon the plants that women gather. Like the men they will go out at dawn or dusk to avoid the hottest part of the day because they are usually busy for 3-4 hours. However, unlike the men they work with the children in tow and it is a very sociable activity. The older girls usually take responsibility for the smaller children while the older and more experienced set about gathering.
Soon after moving into a new area, they locate the trees with ripe berries. There are many different types of edible berry but they all ripen at slightly different times of the year, the end result being that there are normally ripe berries for 9 months of the year (between October and March).
Searching for tubers (the swollen underground storage parts of a plant, designed to help it survive the dry season)is a different proposition. They search for vines hanging from trees and then form a circle to begin digging out the root system. Wild tubers provide a reliable food source all year round, rich in energy and nutrients and higher in carbohydrates and protein than domestic tubers like cassava and sweet potato.
Within Hadzabe culture there are clearly defined gender roles however it can only be described as an egalitarian society and this is because of the nature of their lifestyle. A way of life large unchanged in millennia has taught them with certainty that each day provides food and therefore there is no need to store any. Juxtaposed with the fact that the women are responsible for the vast majority of the food supply, what has arisen is a culture based upon egality. To be Hadza means if someone asks, you have no choice but to share and likewise the accumulation of material wealth is considered a major character flaw.
The other factor to consider in their strong social dependency is a complete disengagement from material goods or property. While the tools they have (mainly bows for hunting and sharpened sticks for digging) require great skill in order to make, they do not entail a large investment in time or resources. Learnt at a very young age, these skills and the ability to use them have effectively rendered any social hierarchy barely visible. While there can be men or women who are widely respected or even referred to as an elder, the Hadzabe do not recognize any leaders or any person as having more power or influence than others. In fact, it is considered very bad if someone tries to control someone else. Elders take no greater part in the group’s decision-making than a child; everyone participates in decision-making.
However, it is this equality that now poses one of their biggest challenges in the face of an encroaching modern society. The Hadzabe never used to be able to see the outside world but now from the top of rocks the roofs of encroaching villages are evident. In the last few decades alone they have lost three quarters of their land. They have no problem with the people (largely pastoral farmers) but with the way they use the land unsustainably; cutting trees down, overgrazing, digging water holes that lower the water table beyond where wild animals can drink (the Hadzabe have never struggled in times of drought, a distinct difference between them and neighbouring pastoralists). The best course of action available is to gain land rights but in a society without leaders this is a formidable issue.
Traditionally the Hadzabe economy and lifestyle was misunderstood and they were treated as primitive and backward, the government embarrassed by their backward ways. There have been many attempts to initiate ‘development’ but the land is a dry and unpredictable environment, which made it unrealistic (unlike the former hunter-gathering Sandawe of Kondoa District who because of predictable climate successfully changed their lifestyle). Other major development efforts have failed because they focussed on services e.g. hospitals, schools, and water, at the expense of realistic economic options for the Hadzabe to make a living. The result was an influx of outsiders who wanted to take advantage, forcing the Hadzabe out.
Thankfully in the last decade huge steps have been made to ensure that the remaining Hadzabe lands are protected. Through the work of organisations like the Dorobo Fund and the Ujamaa Community Resource Team, the Commissioner for Lands travelled to Hadzaland in 2011 and presented the Hadzabe certificates of legal title to three pieces of land totalling 23,305 hectares. These certificates officially designate the land for conservation and traditional Hadzabe activities as well as placing restrictions on all other uses from neighbouring tribes.
With other tribes impinge Hadzaland more and more each year, the Hadzabe inevitably are having more contact with outsiders than ever before and with this comes a growing awareness of the differences between them. However, they are fiercely proud of their traditions and culture and actively avoid other settlements, which they perceive as too busy and too noisy. They feel that the Iraqw and Datoga (the two neighbouring tribes) have lost their cultures; falling out of sync with the world they live in, trying to imitate foreign cultures (however this perception could just be because of a difference in cultures).
The Hadzabe live in harmony with the environment because they depend upon it directly. They read its subtle signs and never stay somewhere too long for their presence to have a lasting impact. Akin to their reliance on the natural world, so too are they reliant upon each other. They have a deeply rich social culture based on equality and placing the interests of the group far above their own. Daily events are often immortalised through stories around the fire after dusk. Men, women and children stand in front of the group to tell energetic and animated tales of comical events, often interrupted by others correcting them or adding missed details. Their days are full of social moments like these and they need no excuse to burst into song and dance which is there other favourite past time.
While the majority of this information was collected first hand from the team’s trip to Tanzania, it would not have been possible to provide or verify this in detail without the help of Frank Marlowe and especially Daudi Peterson who’s years of work with the Hadzabe provide a unique and unparalleled insight into their lives. If you are interested in finding out more then both have published books on the topic which are fascinating in-depth reviews of this incredible tribe.
If you want to read more about the Hadzabe these books are amazing!
Lying in the shadows of the Ngorongoro Crater, on the edge of the Rift Valley is Lake Eyasi, a seasonal shallow endorheic salt lake. It is a stop for migrating flamingos and occasionally attracts hippos from the Serengeti during particularly wet periods of the rainy season but most importantly home to the Hadzabe, a tribe of hunter-gatherers (the way humanity has existed for 90% of its time on earth). An estimated 1,200 remain and genetic research has found them living in this corner of the world for some 40,000 years, qualifying them as ‘original people’ and making their language one of the oldest still in existence.
Hadzabe as a language resembles Khoisan (of the San people in Namibia, also hunter-gatherers) to a limited extent because of its use of clicks but stands alone from other languages in Tanzania. As a result it is only spoken by a small number of neighbours that the Hadzabe interact with and an even smaller number of anthropologists. They have no written record of their language so it takes years to learn but what is clear is that their vocabulary is based upon their natural environment, with an intricate vocabulary used to describe their world in a level of detail that does not exist in English. For example animals have different names according to their species, age, gender and condition.
Life in the bush is dictated by the abundance of water and food. As a result the Hadzabe are nomadic, never staying in one place too long to damage the surrounding ecosystem beyond repair, moving on before resources become exhausted. When a camp moves (a decision made by the women of the group), the first priority is a water source because subsequently they can read the landscape like a book. What might appear to be a barren savannah to us is bountiful larder to a Hadza (singular of Hadzabe). After choosing a new location the women search for a large Acacia and set about clearing any vegetation beneath it. Once clear, this will serve as a communal area, sheltered from the sun and providing a space to socialise and cook.
In the following days the women begin to build huts for each individual family unit. They start by felling young saplings and placing them into holes in the earth they have dugout. No more than one or two branches are ever taken at a time, ensuring nothing is ever wasted. Once firmly in the ground the branches are bent over and lashed together using bark stripped from them to resemble a small dome. After that long grass is collected and interwoven to cover the shell. What you have at the end is a small hut built from natural materials that blends seamlessly into the landscape and disappears back into it once left behind.
The hunter-gatherer lifestyle of the Hadzabe can be classified as an immediate-return economy; they obtain direct returns from their labours and usually consume it in the moment of return (men hunt bushmeat and women collect edible plants). From as young as 7 or 8, children consume up to half of their daily calorie intake on their own because of the nature of their education. As babies they are strapped to their mother’s backs, constantly witness to which plants are safe to eat and how to find them and from the moment they are able to walk, the boys are given a bow and learn how to hunt reptiles, birds and rodents near camp.
Bows (ko’obi) are made from the fresh branches of the Mutateko tree. Once cut down, the branch has it’s bark stripped and is heated over the fire to make it supple for straightening (bows can have up to 45 kilos of force). The same process is used for making arrow shafts and is often done before or after hunting and becomes a communal event with the smallest boys joining in to learn. Using their teeth they straighten the branches into arrows. The bow strings are taken from the ligaments of large animals like giraffes (however increasingly manmade fibres like nylon are being used because there are fewer large kills). Finally feathers from birds they catch are used to make the fletching at the back of the arrow for stability and accuracy.
Hunting can vary depending upon the time of year and the type of game. Usually on their own, they only hunt in larger numbers for large game like troops of baboons (their absolute favourite). For the majority of the year they trek for several hours a day (sometimes twice a day depending on how successful they are), covering large distances however during the dry season they may hunt from blinds near natural resources like water or Acacias (animals are attracted to it’s seed pods and flowers). If something small is caught like a bush baby or a hyrax then they will often make a fire where they are and eat straight away. If they are more successful then they bring their proceeds back to camp. Just about everything they can find in the bush represents a viable meal to the Hadzabe, the only things they avoid being elephants (because their hides are too think), amphibians and reptiles.
The other thing that the hunters are always on the search for is honey. It is one of their favourite food sources because it is so sweet. And it is because of its high sugar content that it is so important, providing an unequal mega boost of energy unlike any other in the bush (they also eat the larvae & pollen giving more complete nutrition). A Hadza is skilled enough to tell what the honey is going to taste like according to the flowers surrounding the hive and often has a favourite. They used to impose sanctions on honey collection during the dry season so that bees could store a surplus but this is now under pressure from outsiders who harvest the honey whenever they feel like it.
While the tribe loves meat, fat and honey, their diet is mainly based upon the plants that women gather. Like the men they will go out at dawn or dusk to avoid the hottest part of the day because they are usually busy for 3-4 hours. However, unlike the men they work with the children in tow and it is a very sociable activity. The older girls usually take responsibility for the smaller children while the older and more experienced set about gathering.
Soon after moving into a new area, they locate the trees with ripe berries. There are many different types of edible berry but they all ripen at slightly different times of the year, the end result being that there are normally ripe berries for 9 months of the year (between October and March).
Searching for tubers (the swollen underground storage parts of a plant, designed to help it survive the dry season)is a different proposition. They search for vines hanging from trees and then form a circle to begin digging out the root system. Wild tubers provide a reliable food source all year round, rich in energy and nutrients and higher in carbohydrates and protein than domestic tubers like cassava and sweet potato.
Within Hadzabe culture there are clearly defined gender roles however it can only be described as an egalitarian society and this is because of the nature of their lifestyle. A way of life large unchanged in millennia has taught them with certainty that each day provides food and therefore there is no need to store any. Juxtaposed with the fact that the women are responsible for the vast majority of the food supply, what has arisen is a culture based upon egality. To be Hadza means if someone asks, you have no choice but to share and likewise the accumulation of material wealth is considered a major character flaw.
The other factor to consider in their strong social dependency is a complete disengagement from material goods or property. While the tools they have (mainly bows for hunting and sharpened sticks for digging) require great skill in order to make, they do not entail a large investment in time or resources. Learnt at a very young age, these skills and the ability to use them have effectively rendered any social hierarchy barely visible. While there can be men or women who are widely respected or even referred to as an elder, the Hadzabe do not recognize any leaders or any person as having more power or influence than others. In fact, it is considered very bad if someone tries to control someone else. Elders take no greater part in the group’s decision-making than a child; everyone participates in decision-making.
However, it is this equality that now poses one of their biggest challenges in the face of an encroaching modern society. The Hadzabe never used to be able to see the outside world but now from the top of rocks the roofs of encroaching villages are evident. In the last few decades alone they have lost three quarters of their land. They have no problem with the people (largely pastoral farmers) but with the way they use the land unsustainably; cutting trees down, overgrazing, digging water holes that lower the water table beyond where wild animals can drink (the Hadzabe have never struggled in times of drought, a distinct difference between them and neighbouring pastoralists). The best course of action available is to gain land rights but in a society without leaders this is a formidable issue.
Traditionally the Hadzabe economy and lifestyle was misunderstood and they were treated as primitive and backward, the government embarrassed by their backward ways. There have been many attempts to initiate ‘development’ but the land is a dry and unpredictable environment, which made it unrealistic (unlike the former hunter-gathering Sandawe of Kondoa District who because of predictable climate successfully changed their lifestyle). Other major development efforts have failed because they focussed on services e.g. hospitals, schools, and water, at the expense of realistic economic options for the Hadzabe to make a living. The result was an influx of outsiders who wanted to take advantage, forcing the Hadzabe out.
Thankfully in the last decade huge steps have been made to ensure that the remaining Hadzabe lands are protected. Through the work of organisations like the Dorobo Fund and the Ujamaa Community Resource Team, the Commissioner for Lands travelled to Hadzaland in 2011 and presented the Hadzabe certificates of legal title to three pieces of land totalling 23,305 hectares. These certificates officially designate the land for conservation and traditional Hadzabe activities as well as placing restrictions on all other uses from neighbouring tribes.
With other tribes impinge Hadzaland more and more each year, the Hadzabe inevitably are having more contact with outsiders than ever before and with this comes a growing awareness of the differences between them. However, they are fiercely proud of their traditions and culture and actively avoid other settlements, which they perceive as too busy and too noisy. They feel that the Iraqw and Datoga (the two neighbouring tribes) have lost their cultures; falling out of sync with the world they live in, trying to imitate foreign cultures (however this perception could just be because of a difference in cultures).
The Hadzabe live in harmony with the environment because they depend upon it directly. They read its subtle signs and never stay somewhere too long for their presence to have a lasting impact. Akin to their reliance on the natural world, so too are they reliant upon each other. They have a deeply rich social culture based on equality and placing the interests of the group far above their own. Daily events are often immortalised through stories around the fire after dusk. Men, women and children stand in front of the group to tell energetic and animated tales of comical events, often interrupted by others correcting them or adding missed details. Their days are full of social moments like these and they need no excuse to burst into song and dance which is there other favourite past time.
While the majority of this information was collected first hand from the team’s trip to Tanzania, it would not have been possible to provide or verify this in detail without the help of Frank Marlowe and especially Daudi Peterson who’s years of work with the Hadzabe provide a unique and unparalleled insight into their lives. If you are interested in finding out more then both have published books on the topic which are fascinating in-depth reviews of this incredible tribe.
If you want to read more about the Hadzabe these books are amazing!
jimmy-nelson-foundation-datoga-tanzania-gallery-ed-omahoney-1
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
jimmy-nelson-foundation-tanzania-project-hadzabe-personal-journey-ed-o'mahoney-2
Processed with VSCO with hb2 preset
Test
jimmy-nelson-foundation-tanzania-project-hadzabe-personal-journey-ed-o'mahoney-4
jimmy-nelson-foundation-tanzania-project-hadzabe-personal-journey-ed-o'mahoney-3
jimmy-nelson-foundation-tanzania-project-hadzabe-personal-journey-ed-o'mahoney-2
jimmy-nelson-foundation-tanzania-project-hadzabe-personal-journey-ed-o'mahoney-1
jimmy-nelson-foundation-datoga-tanzania-gallery-estrella-brand-1
Estrella Brand </br> The world is our kingdom
Estrella Brand </br> Telling strong campfire stories
Estrella Brand </br>Hadzabe style
Estrella Brand </br> Bow of strength
Estrella Brand </br> Don't worry, I'll catch up
Estrella Brand </br> Because Hadzabe is in my blood
Estrella Brand </br> A hunter's eye
Estrella Brand </br>First meal of the day
Estrella Brand </br> Look them in the eyes
Estrella Brand </br> As straight as an arrow
Estrella Brand </br> Dreaming of the present
Estrella Brand </br> Water of life
Estrella Brand </br> Heads up for water
Estrella Brand </br> Life is just a bowl of berries
Estrella Brand </br> Who run the world?
Estrella Brand </br> Reaching for the top berries
Estrella Brand </br> Thinking of my roots
Estrella Brand </br> On the look out, while mom is gathering
Estrella Brand </br>Like father, like son
Estrella Brand </br> Hadzabe, family first
Estrella Brand </br> Look up, mom
Estrella Brand </br> She gave me life
Estrella Brand </br> Just hanging
Estrella Brand </br> Hunter and familyman
Estrella Brand </br> Relieving him from his suffering
Estrella Brand </br> Sinking my teeth into it
Estrella Brand </br> I'm gonna get you
Estrella Brand </br> Birds of a feather
Estrella Brand </br> Look out for the Hadzabe
Estrella Brand </br> Showing the boys how it is done
Estrella Brand </br> Because we do it all together
Estrella Brand </br> Hawks eyes
Estrella Brand </br> Teach them young
jimmy-nelson-foundation-datoga-tanzania-gallery-mike-holtby-2
jimmy-nelson-foundation-datoga-tanzania-gallery-mike-holtby-1
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-gallery-mike-holtby-31-groter
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-gallery-mike-holtby-6-groter
Mike Holtby </br> Young Hunters
Mike Holtby </br> Women's Sunrise
Mike Holtby </br> Warriors
Mike Holtby </br> Trying New Bow
Mike Holtby </br> Tribal Video
Mike Holtby </br> Storytelling
Mike Holtby </br> Starting Young
Mike Holtby </br> Sibling Love
Mike Holtby </br> Shakwa's Daughter
Mike Holtby </br> Now Our Friends
Mike Holtby </br> N'Oya With Axe
Mike Holtby </br> N'Onya
Mike Holtby </br> Men's Sunrise Fire
Mike Holtby </br> Making Contact
Mike Holtby </br> Loading Grass
Mike Holtby </br> Hunting
Mike Holtby </br> Hadzabe Village Sunset
Mike Holtby </br> Hadzabe Men
Mike Holtby </br> Hadzabe Education
Mike Holtby </br> Grass For Huts
Mike Holtby </br> Dueling Nikons
Mike Holtby </br> Digging Tubers
Mike Holtby </br> Climing for Berries
Mike Holtby </br> Childcare
Mike Holtby </br> Carrying Water
Mike Holtby </br> Bow & Arrow Making
Mike Holtby </br> Berry Picking
Mike Holtby </br> Berries
Mike Holtby </br> Beautifull
Mike Holtby </br> Babies
Mike Holtby </br> Arrowheads
James Laiser </br>
James Laiser </br>
James Laiser </br>
James Laiser </br>
James Laiser </br>
James Laiser </br>
James Laiser </br>
James Laiser </br>
James Laiser </br>
James Laiser </br>
James Laiser </br>
James Laiser </br>
James Laiser </br>
James Laiser </br>
James Laiser </br>
James Laiser </br>
James Laiser </br>
James Laiser </br>
James Laiser </br>
James Laiser </br>
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-gallery-kieke-van-maarschalkerwaart-9
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-gallery-kieke-van-maarschalkerwaart-36
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-gallery-kieke-van-maarschalkerwaart-17
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-gallery-kieke-van-maarschalkerwaart-15
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-gallery-kieke-van-maarschalkerwaart-10
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Mike Holtby </br> Women's Sunrise
Estrella Brand </br> Birds of a feather
Mike Holtby </br> Climing for Berries
Estrella Brand </br> The world is our kingdom
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Estrella Brand </br> Dreaming of the present
Mike Holtby </br> Berry Picking
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-gallery-portraits-ed-omahoney-13
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Estrella Brand </br> Life is just a bowl of berries
Mike Holtby </br> Hadzabe Education
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Estrella Brand </br> Reaching for the top berries
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Mike Holtby </br> Childcare
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Estrella Brand </br> Because Hadzabe is in my blood
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-gallery-portraits-ed-omahoney-2
Mike Holtby </br> Storytelling
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Mike Holtby </br> N'Onya
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-gallery-portraits-ed-omahoney-8
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Estrella Brand </br> She gave me life
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Mike Holtby </br> Hadzabe Men
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Estrella Brand </br> Thinking of my roots
Mike Holtby </br> Beautifull
Estrella Brand </br> Water of life
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Mike Holtby </br> Hadzabe Village Sunset
James Laiser </br>
Estrella Brand </br>Like father, like son
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
James Laiser </br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart</br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
Ed O'Mahoney </br>
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-gallery-portraits-ed-omahoney-13
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-gallery-portraits-ed-omahoney-12
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-gallery-portraits-ed-omahoney-11
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-gallery-portraits-ed-omahoney-10
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-gallery-portraits-ed-omahoney-9
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-gallery-portraits-ed-omahoney-8
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-gallery-portraits-ed-omahoney-7
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-gallery-portraits-ed-omahoney-6
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-gallery-portraits-ed-omahoney-5
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-gallery-portraits-ed-omahoney-4
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-gallery-portraits-ed-omahoney-3
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-gallery-portraits-ed-omahoney-2
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-gallery-portraits-ed-omahoney-1-klein
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras.2-11
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras.2-10
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras.2-9
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras.2-8
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras.2-7
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras.2-6
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras.2-5
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras.2-4
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras.2-3
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras.2-2
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras.2-1
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras-10
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras-9
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras-8
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras-6
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras-5
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras-4
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras-3
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras-2
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras-1
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kieke-van-maarschalkerwaart-20
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kieke-van-maarschalkerwaart-19
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kieke-van-maarschalkerwaart-18
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kieke-van-maarschalkerwaart-17
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras.2-11
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras.2-10
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras.2-9
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras.2-8
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras.2-7
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras.2-6
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras.2-5
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras.2-4
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras.2-3
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras.2-2
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras.2-1
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras-10
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras-9
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras-8
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras-6
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras-5
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras-4
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras-3
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras-2
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kids-nikon-cameras-1
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kieke-van-maarschalkerwaart-16
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kieke-van-maarschalkerwaart-15
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kieke-van-maarschalkerwaart-14
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kieke-van-maarschalkerwaart-13
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kieke-van-maarschalkerwaart-12
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kieke-van-maarschalkerwaart-11
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kieke-van-maarschalkerwaart-10
DCIM101GOPROGOPR2080.JPG
DCIM101GOPROGOPR1961.JPG
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kieke-van-maarschalkerwaart-7
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kieke-van-maarschalkerwaart-6
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kieke-van-maarschalkerwaart-5
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kieke-van-maarschalkerwaart-4
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kieke-van-maarschalkerwaart-3
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kieke-van-maarschalkerwaart-2
jimmy-nelson-foundation-hadzabe-tanzania-behind-the-scenes-kieke-van-maarschalkerwaart-1
Get to know who the team members are, what they do, why they joined the Foundation, their overall experience with the project, and many more details.
For a number of years my photography has focused on indigenous people around the world, so the JN Foundation is a perfect fit for me. I have been working on a personal project called 1Planet1People, trying to document cultures (and wildlife) that may be gone by the time my grandson is my age.
www.DenverPhotography.com & www.GrandAdventures.org
I have traveled to forty-two countries and have spent time with many indigenous people. But in all but one other country (Papua New Guinea) my stay with the people has only been hours, not days. I experienced on the first day with the Hadzabe a tentativeness, and it was reflected in the photos in terms of their expressions and willingness to have their picture taken. Their permission was there, but not with smiles. As the days with them went by they relaxed and softened, and by the end of our time with them they were equally involved in our project, fully cooperating in our posing them and having each of them come forward and say their name followed by much cheering and clapping.
It was clear they were very proud of their culture and wanted to show us and the world what they were really like. And we very much shared that goal with them. Some people would call them “primitive” and even “savages,” but that is so far from the truth. Their culture is complex with thousands of years of history and direct heritage. I was often impressed with their skills at self-sufficiency: being able to hit a small bird with an arrow, being able to build a house in a day, being strong enough to carry a five gallon buckets on their heads for long distances with a baby on their backs as well, being able to climb steep rock faces in only sandals, and much more.
Even more I was impressed by their egalitarian cooperation and support of one another. They did everything together, and everyone was accepted and included. The young boys go hunting with the men, and learn to make bows and arrows, and shoot with amazing accuracy at a very young age. The girls care for babies long before they have their own, and no mother raises her children without the involvement of all the women and girls. Babies are passed around and carried by many aunties.
Along these lines two personal experiences particularly touched me. On the third day the young children crowded around me as I showed the pictures on my phone. I would guess there were at least a half dozen little naked bodies pressed against mine. No concern with personal space, they had total comfort with me at that point (and the rest of our team).
The second experience was with the little girl, Soosa who I would guess was autistic. I saw her on the first day cry and arch her back to avoid being comforted by one of the women. I saw her bury her face in the dirt, looking very abandoned, rejected and rejecting of the others. She didn’t play with the other kids. She had an eye infection, and she did repetitive clicking with her tongue. Her hands were continually wet from being in her mouth and dirty from being in the dirt. All that said, she warmed up to me and the rest of the team, starting with tentative touching outstretched hands, to being swung around by Kieke and Estrella. And then of her own initiative, crawling into my lap and wanting to be held. At those times she smiled and laughed and looked like a normal child. I found it quite touching.
So by the end of our four days with the Hadzabe we were sad to leave, and felt quite attached. To witness them all dancing and then sitting around a fire telling stories brought home the contrast with the isolation of our own lives of nuclear families, text messages, and the decline of personal face-to-face connections.
I also felt sad about what the future holds for these proud people whose traditional lands are being encroached upon by larger pastoral tribes, whose game is becoming increasingly sparse, and the lack of value and appreciation is placed upon preserving this ancient culture.
Their future seems inevitably changed by encroaching “civilization.” But with their strengths and skills not adaptable to the “modern” world I am afraid their futures will be destitution, and meager support by the government much as experienced by the American Indians in my own country, or many tribes in South America.
They believe we are “lost”. I hope our efforts to understand their culture and intent to show the world who they really are will help in some small way – if only to make us appreciate the value of being hunter-gatherers.
Sadly, they are endangered much like the elephant, rhino, and the African ecosystem as a whole. At the least my grandson and others of his generation can remember the proud bushmen for what may be lost by the time they’re my age.
We all kind of want to leave something behind, become eternal in a way, so that we will be remembered when we pass on (and we will). To make us feel that when we do so, we haven’t lived in vain. Joining the JN Foundation on this incredible journey, capturing the beauty and rare stories of other cultures worth telling, will do exactly that for me. I want to tell these stories to help people become ‘eternal’ themselves and try and maybe grant myself this status while I am at it as well.
An email saying that they would like a response on a previous sent email caught me off guard, since it had been months that I had applied for the Foundation. What email, I thought. When I applied I never thought I would hear from the Foundation again, I was just a really big admirer of Jimmy’s work and his methods and felt like applying would be a great way of showing that admiration. My excitement grew whilst trying to find that previous email and it only got bigger when reading the subject title: ‘Welcome to the circle of Cultural Connection.’ I was in and not only that, but I was going to Tanzania.
The weeks before our departure date, my anxiety grew to join the team on this journey. Why was I chosen? I really felt like I wasn’t good enough photographer. The excitement I had when I had just found out, turned into resistance. Luckily, I had reached out to one of the other photographers, who also lives in the Netherlands. Over a cup of coffee, I told him how I felt and he just laughed at me and said he had had the exact same feelings. This smart guy though, had reached out to Kieke and while he shared what they had talked about, I was feeling better and better. They would not have picked us if the Foundation didn’t have confidence in us and what would be the worst thing that could happen? Not one good photo… Well, then we still would be in Tanzania, together, enjoying this journey of a lifetime that no one could take away. Even if we would not deliver one single good photograph.
And, here we were. At least an 8-hour drive from Arusha into this raw landscape in the middle of nowhere. Looking at Ed, while he was trying to master the click language of the Hadzabe, it started to dawn on me that we were really here. Our time with the Hadzabe started joyfully with 3 young boys running up to our car, happy to guide us to their camp. Sure, we were there to shoot and document their lifestyle, but meeting them and getting acquainted seemed more important.
On the afternoon of our second day with the Hadzabe, I distanced myself from the group and walked into the bushes. Where somewhere our car was parked. I wasn’t sad, on the contrary. I was happy. About the place I was at, the journey I had overcome to get there, but most of all I was touched by these beautiful people called the Hadzabe. That morning, when we went hunting with them, they shared their catch with us. And even though we slowed them down, like a turtle on his best day, they waited for us to catch up. With no cellphone reception or internet at all for the past few days to call home and only – lets be honest – a few strangers to share your experiences with, my emotions got the better of me. I wept like a little girl to let all of the emotions out that had been building up ever since I got on the plane. And the most beautiful thing was, that it was okay.
The tubers were giving the women a hard time getting dug out, but they just kept on going. After a big laugh that almost left every single Hadza woman in tears of laughter, I asked Yusuph (our translator and guide) what they were talking about and he answered simply with somewhat of a blush on his cheeks: ‘they’re gossiping’. Just talking about the men and what had happened the day before. It made me smile. Even though we are worlds apart, we are the same in a way. Just human. Yes, their chances of survival in the wilderness are quite a bit higher than mine, but we really got treated like family and friends and I believe that they really felt like that after a while as well. So maybe we aren’t that different after all, although in their eyes ‘modern societies’ in nearby cities are already truly lost. So far away from the culture they had and the persons they once were. Just looking at myself, I dare to admit that I have felt lost once or twice in my life. With that in mind, I decided to help and carry one of the buckets filled with 15 liters of water back to the village. I felt closer to them immediately, just by walking alongside them with something they work hard for everyday.
The sky turned into every possible color that made for the perfect background in our last photographs. It all came together. These were our last moments with the Hadzabe and we were going to celebrate it. Raindrops started dripping from our faces, the rocks that we climbed up on became slippery, my shirt that was once white, now looked more like green and black… but it was beautiful and all worth it. I felt that one of the last photographs I took, was the one I came here for. I just stood there and enjoyed the rain. How often can I say that I really enjoyed the rain in the Netherlands? Not often at all…
Following the Hadzabe men into a cave seeking shelter, we just started dancing. Dancing for life, for water, for the company that we were in. In that moment, for the first time in a long time, I was not worrying about tomorrow or the day after or anything for that matter. I was IN the moment.
While driving back to Arusha to spend our last day in Tanzania, we were all just staring into the distance of this beautiful scenery that Tanzania had been showing us. I couldn’t help myself but let my thoughts wander off to my own life back home. Living in the present can be quite challenging for me at times, when I get stuck in my head full of thoughts.
Looking back at what I wrote earlier, before we went on this amazing journey, I am smiling. Wanting to become eternal in a way, now seems such a ‘first’ world view on life. Always wanting more, dreaming about the future, sharing our achievements out loud to make us feel more worthy in a way.
While interviewing a few of the Hadzabe, we asked them what their dreams were for the future. It seemed like a great personal question at the time. The translator had a bit of a hard time translating this, since they don’t really have the words for this. When he succeeded, the Hadzabe looked at us and all started smiling.
The next thing they said has been on my mind ever since. It is the life lesson the Hadzabe have taught me.
‘We live in the present and only worry about today and maybe tomorrow.’
Maybe they have become eternal in a way. For me at least. I will never forget them and will always hold their wisdom close to my heart.
I am really excited to be a part of the Jimmy Nelson Foundation and I can’t wait to explore the lives and stories of the Hadzabe Hunters. Embracing other cultures and their traditions not only teaches us that humanity is rich in its diversity but also forces us to re-evaluate what is truly important in our society.
And here I am, cowering under a giant rock in the middle of a deluge, soaked to the bone and overcome by emotions. I can feel the backs of my legs, sore from having just slid down the wet slippery outcrop from where we were shooting. But my attention is quickly diverted; in front of me are eight men, happy to welcome the rain and dancing and singing in celebration. The confined space amplifies the repetitive chanting and between the experience of the last four days and the physical exhaustion, I am overwhelmed. I put my camera down, choosing to absorb the moment before it’s gone. It’s the perfect way to finish the trip and I feel incredibly grateful.
Three months before this moment I was on a road trip through the Alps with friends, hiking in search of landscapes to shoot, when I got an email from the Foundation asking what I was up to in February and whether I wanted to go to Tanzania with them. It had been six months since I had applied, so I was not expecting it. I read the email again, a second and third time and then shared the news, stoked that I had been offered something I had been desperate to do ever since coming across work like Jimmy’s or Steve McCurry or Dorothea Lange. I shot an email straight back, shared the news with home and spent the rest of the week on cloud 9.
It wasn’t until a few weeks later that the anxiety wormed its way in, with an unshakeable grip over my emotions. The sheer size of the opportunity seemed to nudge aside the excitement that I had initially enjoyed. I work as a freelance photographer, and am very fortunate that I can make a living doing what I love. The consequence of this though, being so early in my career, is that a lot of my work is not necessarily my first choice. My desire to become a true storyteller is a tortuous journey, whose pace has and continues to be, determined by the opportunity to acquire skills and a reputation.
The only way I was going to shrug off this nagging feeling was to prepare myself as best I could, so I set about freeing up the last two weeks before the trip. By day I shot portraits of anyone who would pick up the phone and give up some time, while the long winter evenings were spent researching every piece of information and visual document I could get my hands on. But the thing that really helped was calling Kieke. In a very understated manner, she reassured me that I would not have been there had they not felt I could contribute, and we were going as a team not only to create different perspectives but also to support each other.
The night before starting out, I had made the decision that I was not going to shoot anything the next day. So often I have found that people who are not used to being in front of the camera find the experience difficult and that translates to the emotion of the images you create, plus I didn’t want the distraction of anything technical like exposure settings or HDR issues. If I am honest, this was a bit of a gamble because there was the chance that I could miss something I might not see again, but I was determined to concentrate on making a meaningful connection. I armed myself with a small notebook and some photographs from home and spent the morning observing and taking notes.
After a while, some curious children came to see what I was doing in my little book, and from that moment on I was in. We spent the rest of the morning drawing or looking at photographs, the language barrier only serving to force us to work harder to understand each other. And this is what it was like for the remainder of my time there, standing on the inside, quietly watching their lives play out, with a growing sense of appreciation of its fine balance. On the one hand, their daily routine is focussed on a level of survival too hard to really understand unless you experience it for yourself, and on the other, they have a deeply rich and complex communal culture, almost unrecognisable in modern society.
What was clear was that despite having a much shorter life expectancy than the global average, they fill their lives with the richness of relationships. I once read that over 80% of the time that a parent spends with their child will be before they are 12 years old. Iwonder how much of the Hadzabe’s lives are spent in the company of the ones that they love? Far more than ours I suspect. Such thoughts creep periodically into my mind ever since leaving Tanzania, because beginning to understand and appreciate their culture has helped me reflect on my own. While I will take many things from my brief time with the Hadzabe, I think this will be what I value most, a greater sense that while life is full of many wonderful things, it is the relationships that we share with family, friends and the world around us that can be the most fulfilling and deserve the most attention.
My name is James Laiser. I am born in 1974. My tribe Masai or Maa and living in Arusha, Tanzania. I am married with 2 children. By profession I am a safari guide. I love nature and love to learn more about different cultures.
I believe it is a good thing that foreigners come to Tanzania to visit the Hadzabe because they can learn about things they have lost. They can see there is life on the other side of earth, that there are people here living a happy life without depending on the modern life, no schools, hospitals, cars, etc.
At the same time, I don’t think (for example) the JNF team visiting the Hadzabe will change their lives. However, the effect that the JNF visit has on them is that it makes them feel happy, they see that people admire their way of life and that they visit them to learn their way of life. And this is what I find the most interesting aspect about the JNF project, that the team was there to find a way to save the Hadzabe way of life, to try to show and teach the world about one of the few tribes that still live in bush life. It is important because the world is changing and we are losing our traditional ways of living. I think Tanzanians also need to learn from the Hadzabe, we and the Hadzabe have the same essence, we live in the same place but technology is separating us from the way we (Tanzanians) used to live. I know this is something that is hard to change but there are some things that we need to learn from the Hadzabe and the way of life in general.
Technology consequently, also makes it very hard for the Hadzabe way of life to survive in the future. Our government is building schools in every corner of this country and one of the rules is that every parent has to take his child to school. This is one of the factors that will make it hard for the Hadzabe to continue living their life.
Through the project of the JNF I learned a lot about the Hadzabe. I am not living far from them but we are very different. The way they are living: fire making in the evening, sitting around the fire, storytelling, respect between the family, traditional way of hunting, how to make fire, etc. They do a lot of things manually. I was absolutely happy to work with the JNF team and to get to be part of it. They were so amazing, very helpful, very attentive, very organized and they listened to my suggestions, opinion, etc. I really enjoyed being with them. The visit of the team made me feel that we need to keep living in a traditional way, that we should keep our traditional way of life for future generations.
Indeed, the experience with the Hadzabe made me wonder more than before if everything we have makes us happy. I also wonder if I have happiness in the life I am living and what is the difference between the Hadzabe and me. So, the whole experience (of the JNF project) made me appreciate the Hadzabe’s way of life and also how to live with people, what to eat, how to behave, etc. As a result I want to teach my children that there are people out there living a happy life with no TV, no cars, no cell phones, no electricity, etc.; and that they are living thinking of the day and not the month or the year. Something else that I learned from this project is that what we have will never make us happy if we don’t live together, helping each. We need each other like our fingers on our hands, being in solitary doesn’t mean that we can survive forever!
Staying with Hadzabe for 5 days made me learn a lot, I was happy being part of them. Thanks to the JNF team!
Kieke van Maarschalkerwaart is the project manager of the Jimmy Nelson Foundation and went to Tanzania for the Founadtion with the team.
She has the heart of a true adventurer and story-teller. Having travelled the world as a tour guide around the world she was also the camerawomen joining Jimmy Nelson to his travels in Siberia and West-Papua. “No journey is the same and it is always surprising to see what crosses your path. I like to be challenged to stay inventive and creative: whether this is an adventurous far away destination, or more relaxed, and close-by home.”
Thank you to everyone who was involved in this project. A special thank you goes to the lovely people below, it would not have been possible without your support. N’Ubeya
stay in the know
Subscribe to the mailing list to keep up with updates from the Jimmy Nelson Foundation. And don’t worry... we don’t like spam either
stay in the know
Subscribe to the mailing list to keep up with updates from the Jimmy Nelson Foundation. And don’t worry... we don’t like spam either