Inside the dim stone walls of an ancient Ethiopian church, a single beam of light pierced through a cross-shaped window. In that light stood a priest, draped in embroidered robes, his white turban crowned with dignity, holding a tall cross that glimmered in the haze of incense.
His presence was both solemn and timeless. The silence around him felt heavier than words, as if centuries of devotion were carried in his stance. His eyes met mine briefly, steady and contemplative, before drifting back into prayer.
As a traveler and photographer, I felt like an intruder in a sacred moment. Yet, the priest’s stillness was not unwelcoming. It was an invitation to witness faith in its purest form, unshaken by time, untouched by the noise of the outside world.
In that shadowed chamber, with light falling only on him, I realized photography here was not about capturing an image. It was about capturing reverence, the quiet strength of belief that has endured for generations
