When you’re in a space where women photographers are often questioned and doubted, would you still keep going? For Charmaine Chitate, that’s precisely why she keeps going.
Like many other countries, being in the creative industry doesn’t always yield good results financially. It’s a struggle that many artists share. But this is not the biggest challenge for female photographers in Zimbabwe.
“It’s very difficult to take pictures when there are other male photographers because the first thing they’ll do is come and ask you, So what type of camera do you have? What type of lens are you using?,” shares Charmaine Chitate.
A professional photographer for over 10 years now, Chitate says it’s common for female photographers in Zimbabwe to experience such questioning from their male colleagues.
“They wouldn’t do that to a fellow man who’s taking pictures,” she says, referring to the questioning, adding, “It’s kind of like undermining. They probably think we’re playing with cameras as toys.”
We spoke with Create Fund winner Charmaine Chitate about gender-related challenges, the law that prohibits photographing in public, and many other issues women photographers face in Zimbabwe.
Most importantly, we talked about how their strength continues to persevere.
Shutterstock: Hi Charmaine. So, why photography?
Charmaine Chitate: At functions, my mother used to tell guests that my first words as a toddler were ‘what happened’ instead of ‘mum’ or ‘dad.’ It used to make me feel awkward, and I would try to blend in with the wallpaper. There, I could watch everyone else without being immersed in what was happening.
Over the years, this developed into showing people what happened, and instead of observing with my own eyes, I started taking pictures of everything that happened around me and using the pictures to tell a story.
By extension, the camera is my alter-ego. It steps into a moment that I cannot and captures the memory from my perspective.
SSTK: You’re based in Zimbabwe. What is it like being a photographer in this country?
Chitate: Zimbabwe is a beautiful country. Most of its beauty is undocumented, and as a Zimbabwean photographer, I get to contribute to addressing that gap. It’s not easy doing so as we tend to be a ‘camera shy’ nation. However, I find it’s becoming easier to photograph moments as they happen.
There are very few women photographers in the country, and fewer opportunities exist for us. It’s disheartening to meet a woman photographer today and then find they’ve dropped the practice a year later.
Access to gear, training, adequate pay, and the ‘masculinity’ of the industry make it difficult for most women to maintain the art form. I hope that with the steps I’ve taken in my career, other women will be encouraged to continue taking pictures, as it impacts how women are photographed as well.
SSTK: Camera shy? Why? How so?
Chitate: We used to have an act that repressed photography or photojournalism to an extent. It was very difficult for us to practice the art form, and it was very difficult to separate photography for art’s sake and photojournalism.
That law was removed and there’s a new one, and it’s now much easier for us to take pictures. But it takes a lot of nurturing to get people to realize that it’s a new era where we can take pictures and, you know, your pictures won’t be misused in some political way.
SSTK: And when did that law change?
Chitate: I think it was about two or three years ago.
SSTK: Oh, so it was just recently?
Chitate: Yes. There are still some areas where if you go, and if you have your camera in public, it becomes an issue. So, we’ve got our press cards to kind of say, “We’re actually recognized by the media commission that we’re allowed to take pictures,” but it’s still subjective.
If the people in that area where you want to take pictures are considerate, they will allow you to take pictures, but others will just give you a flat, “No, we don’t want any cameras here. You will misuse our pictures; you change the narrative around the documentation . . . we don’t want that.”
So, it’s been taking a lot of relationship-building and trust to say, “No, I’m doing creative photography, and I want to be able to showcase an alternative view of Zimbabwe outside of its politics.”
SSTK: Oh wow. And does that include smartphones with cameras or just professional cameras?
Chitate: Uhm, it’s professional cameras. In some areas, I think, with the onset of other digital platforms where you can share content, people are now using smartphones to record, and you’ve got a lot of citizen journalism happening around.
But the minute that you just present a professional camera, the mood changes. You can get the extremes like, “We also want our picture taken,” and then you can get those, “No, no, no. Step out. We don’t want that camera here,” but they will consent to being photographed using a phone.
So, they don’t feel like taking pictures with a phone is professional.
SSTK: How do you build a career in that kind of space?
Chitate: So, it’s a lot of relationship building. Having conversations with people, getting to know them. Sharing input like, “This is how I want to take pictures of you. Is this something that you are interested in?” And asking them, “Do you have any changes that you would like me to make to the way that I photograph you?”
And then taking the pictures [the way they want] and showing it to them.
Another thing that’s helped is telling my subjects, “Out of the pictures that I take, I will send some of them to you via WhatsApp,” so that they can then have a memory of themselves.
Because that’s also the other challenge. People would often say, “Oh, everyone comes to take pictures of us, but we never see where the pictures go. What happened to those?”
So, for the ones that I don’t use professionally, I just send them a picture or two. Or, I’d propose a picture or a family portrait that they can have and keep for themselves.
SSTK: And I think trust also plays an important role in this situation.
Chitate: Yes, it does. It plays a very pivotal role. I think being a woman is our advantage. First of all, you’ve got the shock factor because it’s a woman holding a professional camera in a masculine environment. You become sort of a spectacle. But then it also means that when you’re trying to explain something, they pay attention.
And in communities, when you’re out taking photos, some people would go tell the younger ones, “Oh, speak to the woman holding the camera, go ask her what you need to do. See, when you finish school, you can be like her.”
So, it helps me break barriers and create trust so I can take pictures of them.
SSTK: That is a very interesting situation because, in some cases, women are not as “powerful,” for lack of a better word, as men. In your case, women have an advantage.
Chitate: Yes. We do have that advantage in that we are more perceptive. We want to understand the environment more. I noticed that with men, they want to cash in. They want to take the picture, you know, the visual trope that gets everyone talking.
But we [women], I think our strong point is building that relationship. Being relatable and able to get those emotions that someone is feeling on the camera.
SSTK: So true. And, how long have you been a full-time photographer?
Chitate: I take a full-time job every three years. I use those jobs to raise money to buy equipment. It’s very strategic. So, I think it’s been over 10 years now of professional photography, mostly documentary photography.
SSTK: And how has building a career changed since then? Since you started becoming a photographer 10 years back to now?
Chitate: When I first wanted to practice photography, I went to someone in the industry who I admired, and his work was really spectacular. I asked him if he could possibly train me or mentor me. His words were, “My parents spent over 30,000 US dollars to send me to school to learn this craft. Do you have the same amount of money?” I was floored.
So yeah, it was difficult. I didn’t take it personally, but I feel that statement kind of drove me to become who I am today. I don’t want any other woman to go through the same thing.
So, when there are certain groups that organize workshops for women who want to get into the creative sector, I will go and be a facilitator. I share the challenges I faced, and I get them to share their challenges. I tell them how I’ve addressed some of those challenges and how, for some of those challenges, I’m still facing now and how I’m coping with those.
I want my journey to not be the same journey as everyone else—it should be shorter.
SSTK: You mentioned challenges, and I love it when people talk about the challenges. It’s sort of different and similar at the same time. What are the challenges that, after 10 years, you’re still facing?
Chitate: Well, in terms of skillset, this is, you know, you learn as you work. That’s one of the challenges—getting training where I’m also able to practice.
I’ve managed to overcome that hurdle now because I’ve been training with Market Photo Workshop in South Africa and VII Foundation in France. They’ve been helping me put a name to some of the things that I’ve been doing out of habit and say, “This is what you’ve actually been doing.” And then I’d understand like, “Oh, is that why I was doing it that way.”
The other challenge is access to finance. Photography falls under the creative sector and, in Zimbabwe, the creative sector is not a viable business option for you to get a loan or startup capital to start your business. You have to find some other way of raising funds to buy the equipment, to stay current, to get it serviced.
So, what I do is I take on communication specialist roles, and I also do communication strategies. Then, I use those opportunities to also build my photography skills.
A lot of the photography in the NGO world in Zimbabwe, in particular, is very top-down. So, I’m trying to help change that and show that we can tell positive stories.
Yes, we’ve got the drought, but there is a different way that we can visualize the drought in a way that anyone from the city or from the rural areas can identify with, without just showing someone with torn clothes or dried lips and all of that. There are alternative ways of telling these stories.
And, as a woman photographer, I also cover sports. The biggest challenge [I face] is from the other gender—the gentlemen.
The minute you hold the professional camera, it’s very difficult to take pictures when there are other male photographers because the first thing they’ll do is come and ask you, “So what type of camera do you have? What type of lens are you using? Do you know how to change the settings? Let’s see the pictures that you took.”
It’s questions to test you to see if you know the camera that you’re holding. If you do know the lens. But they wouldn’t do that to a fellow man who’s taking pictures. It’s kind of like undermining. They probably think we’re playing with cameras as toys.
SSTK: How do you manage such situations?
Chitate: For the most part, I’d usually say, “Look, it’s okay. We can talk about gear later, but right now, I’m at work.”
So, it’s either you’re standing next to me, or you’re moving to another corner, but don’t walk in front of my camera. I’m already setting boundaries around my work.
And when they try to touch my camera, I’d really tell them, “Don’t touch my camera. I didn’t touch yours.”
SSTK: Yes! Also, you mentioned earlier the alternative ways of telling stories in the NGO world. That’s where your love for narrative photography plays a vital role, right? Why do you love narrative photography?
Chitate: I love getting into people’s lives and finding what parts of their lives I can relate to, what becomes personal, and what links me to them. It might be my age, the work that they do every day, it might be how they think.
When you get to know someone in that environment, it makes it easier for you to photograph them and get that unique perspective. Because when we approach them, we’ve got the story in our minds. We’ve got our perspective in our minds.
I think in narrative photography, you get to kind of throw away the story that you came with and get the story that is actually there and be true to the story that is there. And it’s more collaborative, as well.
Because I’m not just documenting them and going away. We’re actually having a conversation about, say, “How can we best tell this story and share it?”
SSTK: Is there anything you wish someone told you before you went into the photography business?
Chitate: Be tough. Be Strong. Brace yourself.
SSTK: “Brace yourself.” Why?
Chitate: Brace yourself for the men. The challenge I mentioned earlier. See, men will think that maybe you’re there to just flaunt yourself. So the endearment will come. Oh, you’re so pretty. You’re this way, you’re that way . . . That’s what they think a woman is good for.
You have to brace yourself and focus on the work at hand. Tell them your boundaries. Be firm. Tell them, “This is what I’m here to do. We can talk about anything else later if I have the time.”
I think for most women in Zimbabwe, it’s very difficult because we’re a very patriarchal society. So, it says you need to respect men. You need to do this and that. That line between respect and protecting your space is very, very thin.
That’s why we’re having these workshops to help strengthen young women as they get into the industry.
SSTK: Love that! To wrap, how important are initiatives like The Create Fund for photographers of color?
Chitate: Many of the grants available to us—people of color—are themed. It is rare to come across an open call to fund ‘art for art’s sake.’ The Create Fund has created a platform where I can share, through imagery, alternative views of Zimbabwe.
The initiative has made it possible for us as creators to consider a business approach to our work for sustainability while feeding a demand from different clients through Shutterstock.
License this cover image via Charmaine Chitate.
This post was originally published onDecember 4, 2024
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