Away from the action of emergency, the subjects of Imam’s series (Love, Life Refugees) are portrayed in a still atmosphere that feels straight out of a Fellini movie (in a nod to the master’s 8 and 1/2, a short film Imam did on the subject is titled 9 and 1/2). The compositions are drenched in surreality: In a nondescript camp, recognizable by the humanitarian agencies’ white tents, a magician enchants his blind wife. A woman, sitting at a table set with one broken dish, is served a plate of grass. A man on a wheelchair is surrounded by balloons, to which are attached the tools that could “fix” him.

“The people I met are in the worst possible conditions, but they have the desire to continue being human,” writes Imam, a grantee of the Arab Documentary Photography Program.

The pictures are captioned with quotes from the people portrayed in them, which only drive home the horror (“There was only grass. I couldn’t pass it through my throat, but I forced myself to swallow it in front of the children so they would accept it as food,” reads one) but also refugees’ desire to live, not just survive.

“I was afraid when it was calm, when they checked to see who had passed away and who was injured. I felt safer in the midst of the shelling. I preferred to sing or listen to music when it was calm.”
“I was afraid when it was calm, when they checked to see who had passed away and who was injured. I felt safer in the midst of the shelling. I preferred to sing or listen to music when it was calm.”
Image: Photo by Omar Imam, courtesy of East Wing gallery, Dubai
“There was only grass. I couldn’t pass it through my throat, but I forced myself to swallow it in front of the children so they would accept it as food.”
“There was only grass. I couldn’t pass it through my throat, but I forced myself to swallow it in front of the children so they would accept it as food.”
Image: Photo by Omar Imam, courtesy of East Wing gallery, Dubai
“My wife is blind… I tell her the stories of her favorite TV series and sometimes change the script to create a better atmosphere for her.”
“My wife is blind… I tell her the stories of her favorite TV series and sometimes change the script to create a better atmosphere for her.”
Image: Photo by Omar Imam, courtesy of East Wing gallery, Dubai
“For a moment, I felt like we were talking to a car technician—not a doctor. We are refugees, but we are still human.”
“For a moment, I felt like we were talking to a car technician—not a doctor. We are refugees, but we are still human.”
Image: Photo by Omar Imam, courtesy of East Wing gallery, Dubai

Correction: Omar Imam is not a pseudonym.

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