Traveling to the desert, the photographer stumbled upon a camp of gypsies on their way from Sistan to find low paid work in Khorasan. Opposite to traditional Iranian nomads, these people are characterized by their poverty, toughness and at times immoral demeanor. The photos capture the living conditions of the many children in this camp. Small work-worn hands, ragged shoes, and plastic patches on tents tell the story of their lost childhood.
Photograph by: Basim Ghomorlou, Iran.

Born during the Genocide era, Rwandan’s youth speak of their aspirations, their hope for peace in the aftermath of a brutal conflict that fractured their nation. They are the generation that wants to be known as Rwandans, eliminating historical tribal labels of Hutu and Tutsi.
They want their legacy to be known as the peace brokers. The youth have come together, united in purpose – much of their commitment to reconciliation is rooted in the idea that without peace, there is no future. Peace is everything, the steel platform to construct prosperity and harmony.
Photograph by: Carol Allen-Storey, Rwanda.

In January of 2020, fleeing violence and poor economic conditions, Hondurans organized a massive migrant caravan that traveled through Guatemala into Mexico. After traveling for 8 days the caravan crossed the Suchiate River into Mexico and were stopped and tear-gassed by the recently established Guardia Nacional composed of former Federal, Military, and Naval Police.
Photograph by: Ada Trillo, Honduras, Guatemala, Mexico.

They are too young and unconscious to know. Still unaware of ideologies, religion, politics, and human beliefs. They have already lost loved ones, homes, a leg, and a safe childhood but will follow the path and will of their grownups blindly. Whatever side of the frontline, whether born by jihadists in the former Caliphate, brought up amidst freedom fighters in Rojava, living on either side of the fence of the Al-Hol Camp or bound to a hospital bed, they all have one thing in common: They are children born into and shaped by war in Syria facing a dim and unknown future.
Photograph by: Thea Pedersen, Syria.

My work aimed to create awareness of malaria which is important for the elimination of the disease. Public Engagement is important to bring awareness of our work and I hope my work will be a bridge between science and art and bridging cultures and perceptions of diseases in the Asia Pacific.
Photograph by: Pearl Gan, Cambodia.

Remarkably, of the estimated 400 admission-charging aquariums in the world, 150 are located in Japan. Moreover, fish tanks are ubiquitous—at restaurants, hotels, and even in random roadside displays. Given the country’s aging demographics it is hard to imagine this as sustainable, even as aquariums attempt to shift their raison d’être toward conservation, animal rescue, and education.
I am interested in the emotions expressed both by the spectators and the animals. At times, one is left to wonder who is observing whom? And in light of the Covid-19 era, what does a spectator-less aquarium do?
Photograph by: George Nobechi, Japan.

In October 2019, Iraqis rose to make an outcry. An uprising. A revolution. A never seen before the roar of hope, courage, social and ethnic unity flooded into the streets calling for a new Iraq. Since Iraqi’s have been left alone crying.
Dying while trying fighting for their rights and demands to their leaders while the world has been silently watching the government’s deadly campaign of systematic violence, kidnappings, and killings in a battlefield resembling a war zone with now more than 500 youths and activists killed, more than 30.000 wounded and an unknown number kidnapped.
Photograph by: Thea Pedersen, Iraq.

Bangladesh, and particularly Dhaka, is well-known for overcrowded commuting trains. As a result, people claim any perch they can on top and all around the train cars. But this practice is never as intense as, during the Bishwa Ijtema, a three-day annual gathering of Muslims held in Tongi, a small town by the banks of the River Turag, in the outskirts of Dhaka.
Photograph by: France Leclerc, Bangladesh.

Since the first day of the lockdown - due to the Covid-19 pandemic - I started photographing my daughters around the house. From March 18 until May 18, 2020, I captured their daily routines. For my daughters, like for many young people, social contact with their peers is very important at their age. The restriction on seeing friends was very difficult for both of them. Schools and universities were closed. My eldest daughter missed studying in the library. My youngest daughter spent a lot of time on her mobile phone. They often felt bored or lonely.
Photograph by: Sigrid Debusschere, Belgium.

Eating cannons (cannons) is a common ritual ceremony in Taiwanese religious festivals. Followers set a lot of firecrackers under God's palanquin to express their own gratitude to worship blessing. People believe that more firecrackers could bring with much luckier than ever.
Photograph by: Simon Lee, Taiwan.

The Anti-Extradition Bill Movement has forever changed Hong Kong. The smell of tear gas becomes familiar. People saw their daily lives being affected, yet the fallout of the protest has spread to our daily lives. Although the mental and physical trauma in the movement is unprecedented, Hongkongers are determined to remain as the beacon of light in the midst of narrowing freedom and civic space.
The aspiration of safeguarding the culture and core values that constitute the identity of “Hongkonger” stay staunch, even though the path is not easy. But when many pass one way, a road is made.
Photograph by: Bertha Wang, Hong Kong.

The sound of silence, so to speak. This is what an opera house devoid of personnel, devoid of singers, orchestra musicians, and an attending audience, "sounds" and looks like during these Covid-19 days. I had the chance to take pictures in the Wuppertal Opera, home for instance to the famous Pina Bausch Dance Company. I feel that these pictures stand "pars pro toto" for all the theaters and opera houses around the world that had to at least temporarily shut down because of the Covid-19 pandemic. I am a professional musician myself, so this series is really close to my heart.
Photograph by: Daniel Haeker, Germany.

Afghanistan produces roughly 90% of the world’s opium. The drug is made from the resin of opium poppies, which is further processed to make heroin. In Afghanistan’s impoverished Kandahar province, many farmers use a portion of their land to grow poppies, saying it’s the only crop that generates enough money to support their families. This series depicts life on several Kandahar poppy farms in the runup to 2019’s harvest. The beauty of the fields and the farmers’ joy at the healthy plants—a result of ideal weather—contrast with the devastation the poppies cause around the world.
Photograph by: Phillip Walter Wellman, Afghanistan.

These images were shot on the streets of Vancouver's infamous DTES. The Downtown Eastside is the most vulnerable community in Vancouver. These streets and alleys are occupied by homeless and marginalized people, affected by drug addiction and mental health issues. When Covid 19 Shelter in Place and social distancing order was issued I was concerned about how the city would implement these new regulations within this at-risk community. I was sure that there would be cluster outbreaks and it would be a disaster with many lives lost. However, people were not dying of Covid but of an opioid overdose.
Photograph by: Dina Goldstein, Canada.

Hong Kong's protests started in June 2019 against plans to allow extradition to mainland China, hundreds of thousands of people took to the streets, clashes between police and activists have become increasingly violent.
Photograph by: Wei Fu, China.

The "Remain in Mexico" policy: a dangerous waiting game for those families seeking asylum. The individuals and families in these photographs have experienced unthinkable traumas and faced impossible decisions.
Photo by Ada Trillo, Mexico.

During the decade long Maoist insurgency in Nepal, over 17,000 people were killed on both sides, and approximately 1,300 people were “disappeared” during the conflict.
Photograph by: Guligo Jia, Nepal.

A long-term photography essay. Its goal: create a contemporary view of the people, places, or happenings that depict The United States of America. What defines this country? Patriotism, free speech, and choices of religious practices all are undercurrents in this essay. A record of the political process is vital, with the chasm of opposing doctrine bordering on fanaticism, visual documentation on the issue is vitally important to the final collection.
The images here deal with race, political upheaval, social separation, underlying racism & hopelessness in the USA today.
Photograph by: Joseph (Joe) Patronite, USA.

They are colorful, loud, and flashy - the Matatus of Nairobi. In Kenya's capital these pimped, private buses are the main means of transport. The Matatus transport most commuters in this vast city. They are so numerous that they contribute significantly to the daily traffic collapse in Nairobi.
Between 20,000 and 40,000 graffiti-covered Matatus compete for the attention of the people on the streets. In order to make the old buses more attractive, the owners of the Matatus pimp the exteriors, interiors, and motors of the Matatus in order to make every single bus is a roaring work of art.
Photograph by: Christian Bobst, Kenya.

Covid-19 came. Life changed. Probably irrevocably. Couldn’t stand around helpless. I decided to document the new daily existence of millions. I advertised my idea on social media and through my local paper in West London. The response was enormous. We made contact, arranged details of location, clothing, face-mask, and set a date and time; guaranteed no physical contact.
Every three days or so for the past several weeks I have photographed people at home in self-isolation during the evening twilight. Imprisoned in their home, they gaze forlornly out of their window onto a desolate world outside.
Photograph by: Julia Fullerton-Batten, United Kingdom.

Stay home has been the word of the day for the past two months. Stay home, Noa sings from her 3rd-floor pulpit. Learn to make it your safe haven. What else can Home mean? Observing from my veranda. The cobbler puffing in his shop. The neighbors. The pedestrians.
Let your actions speak for yourself. Make the best of this opportunity and be the better version of yourself. We are all, all over the planet, experiencing a common affliction. It's not "our neighbor's war”. Fill your heart with joy because you matter! Be the stork that observes. Stay home!
Photograph by: Gonçalo Cunha De Sá, Portugal.

For several months now History has been facing a pandemic. But on the sidelines of this history with a capital “H” there are also other stories to tell. Like here, in this Care and Rehabilitation Center where these patients like no other being afflicted by other pathologies called co-morbidities, cannot be candidates to integrate an intensive care unit in the event of COVID-19 acute symptoms development.
Already overloaded these units will be allocated to younger and healthier people with better chances of recovery. Elderly patients are still the medical system's left behind.
Photograph by: Denis Palanque, France.

Silvia Alessi lives in Bergamo, one of the most affected cities in the world by the Coronavirus epidemic. She owns a hairdressing salon, since 8 March 2020 (the lockdown day in Italy) she had to close my business for the first time in my life. They all barricaded themselves at home overnight, while people were dying in hospitals.
The uncertainty about tomorrow, the fear about today, the surreal situation: locked at home alone, she wanted to document all these new feelings through photos. These shots show all of her feelings: loneliness, weakness, uncertainty, anxiety.
Photograph by: Silvia Alessi, Italy.

Brighton, a city on the South East coast of England, is righteously called ‘London by the Sea’, as it is buzzing with life, diversity, and color. Brighton center with its famous North Laines, is usually a very busy place, especially on Saturdays, when most of these photographs were taken.
During the coronavirus lockdown, these streets have been transformed into nonplaces of transitional nature where people walk through only when necessary, raising questions about the age we live in and that nothing is given and permanent despite the advancements of technology and medicine.
Photograph by: Eva Kalpadaki, United Kingdom.

The hostel for Holocaust Survivors at Sha`ar Menashe Psychiatric Hospital is home to dozens of Holocaust survivors. And over the years it has been one for many more. Those who spent most of their lives in psychiatric institutions, and some who became somewhat involved in society until their mental health deteriorated, and they found themselves in need of hospitalization.
Whoever arrives here will remain for the rest of his life. In a place where loneliness, sadness, and silence are always present, they struggle day after day as they awaken from nightmares, hear voices and sink into depression.
Photograph by: Gili Yaari, Israel.

My project is a visual story of "The End of Fancy Shopping," as I call it. Due to NYC lock-down, most stores closed or went out of business. I focused on the fashion industry meltdown during the quarantine. Most of the boutiques removed their products and left stores empty with the lights on, thus creating this new appearance of the clean geometry of empty shelves and total abandonment at the same time.
Nobody knew what's next... And next was public unrest, protest marches, and looting due to the racial tensions after police in Minneapolis savagely killed George Floyd.
Photograph by: Vytenis Jankunas, USA.

I live 5 minutes away from hospitals, and I hear the sirens 24/7. In the beginning, I would get worried every time I hear the sirens. Another COVID patient! Now, the sirens serve as a reminder of the people who risk their lives for the sake of the people of New York City.
Photograph by: Jose Razon, USA.

Nine leaders of the Catalan separatist movement were jailed for sedition and misuse of public funds for their role in a failed 2017 declaration of independence. Catalonia's drive for independence plunged Spain into a big political crisis.
People, driven by "youths" took the streets in Barcelona seeking to free all political prisoners and met with thousands of riot police sent from Madrid.
Photograph by: Gian Marco Benedetto, Spain.

Wars, poverty, climate change continue to drive people out of their homes, communities, countries, to the unknown. They join millions already on the move, constantly, restlessly, occupying spaces on the margins of the First World. This new presence is transforming an environment inhabited and organized long ago, even if it's just for a day, a week, a month, as they keep moving through the landscape scarred by walls and fences, running, hiding, and running again.
Contemporary nomads with no sense of arrival, their fate echoes the age-old story of constant movement in today's liquid global society.
Photograph by: Dawid Zielinski, Greece.

We all were very much affected by the pandemic that hit our civilization. In my pictures, I show how the threat of the coronavirus changed my view on everyday life in and around Mechelen, Belgium. The photographs are never too explicit. They leave room for interpretation, welcoming beauty and surprise, sadness with a smile.
Photograph by: David Legreve, Belgium.

The confluence of history. The succession of layers that stack traditions, values, and beliefs. The festival of life that mocks death. The rituals that take the street and make it their own. The fancy dresses, colors, flowers, and costumes that dance to celebrate the day of a yesterday gone.
The offerings that celebrate the perpetual transit of the dead between light and dark on the way to paradise. One day journey through a walk in the main avenue of the capital city, where trajectories, paths, and destinations intermingle. A perpetual and tireless rebirth.
Photograph by: Eduardo Lopez Moreno, Mexico.

Humans are responsible for the destruction of our own ecosystem, we have depleted it. We are responsible for climate change that affects biodiversity. Intensive farming is one of the major causes of environmental pollution and the damage caused affects not only on the environment but also on animals and human health.
The covid19 pandemic that we are experiencing today may depend on it. We change the system and the system changed us.
Photograph by: Carla Sutera Sardo, Italy.

As much as we are in this world and of this world, none of us escapes the momentary or pervasive feeling of alienation, loneliness; the realization that all will pass, and that we do not know where we are going. And yet, simultaneously, we are capable of feeling immense joy in belonging here on Earth and in appreciating all the worldly gifts.coming from the world of ours gives us.
Photograph by: Helena Lukas, Italy.

A leprosy village at the Atlantic coast in West Africa. Here leprosy belongs to everyday life. But the disease is not excluded. The patients are living together with their families. Most of them lose fingers and toes due to the disease and go blind at a later stage. These people live at the base of life. They try every day to cope with the present and to find a way into the future.
In the beginning, it was like exploring the past. Soon, however, the courage and the warmth of the people lead you on a journey that brings the important things in our life back into consciousness.
Photograph by: Franz Messenbaeck, Senegal.

Saxons are a community with German roots. Since XI century, together with Hungarians and Romanians, they’ve been living in the green heart of Romania. From this very land, a major migration is now taking place which marks the decline of centuries of history.
After the 2nd World War and Ceaușescu communist government, people of this community were forced to abandon their homes. Some wanted an ethnically homogeneous Romania. In 1930 there were 745,421 Saxons in Romania, in the last census there were 27,019. Saxons are disappearing and their culture, their tongue, and traditions along with them.
Photograph by: Davide Bertuccio, Romania, Germany

The refugee camp of Moria, sits on the hill in Lesbo island, overlooking the Turkish coast. This is where the dream dies. The camp is a paradox of human rights praised by a democratic world.
The dream disappears in the bodies of 20 thousand people. They live in appalling conditions without the most basic rights, in the cold, in a field designed for 2500, with insufficient sanitation that beggars belief. Almost every night there are fights. The protests for these conditions cease with the violent gas firing by police against all - no-one is spared. The end of an exodus, the end of Europe.
Photograph by: Stefano Stranges, Italy.