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by Alexandra Mansilla
Unseen Saudi Arabia With Ibrahim Sarhan: Bedouins, Hidden Places, And Untold Stories
23 Mar 2025
Photo: Ibrahim Sarhan
When I first saw the portraits taken by Ibrahim Sarhan, it felt like the people in them were looking straight into me — almost as if they were reading me. Somehow, he manages to capture something on their faces that speaks to the journeys they have been through. Journeys full of struggles, responsibilities, joy — and you can tell that each person he photographs carries a story. A story that feels worthy of an entire book.
Ibrahim Sarhan is a Saudi photographer who shows Saudi Arabia in a way no one else quite does. He ventures into places few people even know exist — and through his photography, he brings them to life. Just look at the ancient beehives he discovered hidden between the mountains of southwest Saudi Arabia, his explorations of ancient rock art, or the natural heart-shaped formation, nearly 400 metres wide, that he found in King Salman Reserve in the north.
A whole chapter of his work is dedicated to the Bedouins. He carefully documents their lives, exploring who they are, what they do, and how they interact with the environment around them. His latest book, 'Shdad', is devoted to the Bedouin heritage of Tabuk, in northwestern Saudi Arabia. It sheds light on the region’s camel racing tradition — once rooted in ancient desert warfare, now transformed into a vibrant cultural celebration.
We spoke with him about how he became a photographer — and he shared some truly incredible stories about the people he has met along the way.
— Ibrahim, hello! Can you tell me more about your artistic journey? I know it started early — how did it begin?
— To be honest, I don't feel there was a clear beginning to my artistic journey. It is more a collection of accumulated experiences and impressions that formed my vision over the years. What I can say is that since childhood, I have been deeply connected to nature, mountains, and spending time alone in the wilderness. These were profound seeds planted in my soul that grew and matured over time. Back then, it never occurred to me that someone might describe what I was doing as "art." I began taking photographs simply to tell stories without knowing the fundamentals of photography or how to properly use a camera. I learned those skills later out of a desire to convey my feelings about nature better and to tell human stories more beautifully. That is why I don't like being labelled as a "photographer" — photography is merely my tool for expression, a means rather than an end.
— Do you still have your earliest photos? What are they?
— Yes, I still keep many of my documentary photos, especially those I took during my school years when I would bring my camera to school. I believe I am the only one who has preserved images from our school during that era before camera phones existed.
— Were your parents supportive of your journey as a photographer?
— My father was passionate about documenting memories. He kept the most minute details, whether captured with his camera or preserved in papers and documents related to each of his children. For example, he recently gave me the hospital bracelet that doctors placed on my wrist right after my birth. It only had my mother's name on it, as I hadn't been officially named yet.
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The coffee farmer. Photo: Ibrahim Sarhan
— You have met a lot of people, as we can see through your work. Is there a story behind any of the photos that you still remember?
— I find that all my photographs are filled with love and emotion. I only keep photos of people I have connected with, people with whom I have developed genuine human relationships that transcend merely taking a picture. My favourite photographs are those that have made a difference by improving someone's life or highlighting an important humanitarian issue. I feel immense peace when my images have a positive impact on someone's life or, at the very least, instill in them a sense of pride in their culture and heritage.
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The coffee farmer. Photo: Ibrahim Sarhan
About six years ago, I visited a coffee farmer in the mountains of southern Saudi Arabia. It was a small, almost unknown plantation — hidden in a place most people don’t even know existed.
The farmer had inherited the land from his father and grandfather and continued to care for it with quiet dedication. He lived in a very modest home without a steady income, but what stood out was his deep, personal connection to the land and the coffee he grew.
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The coffee farmer. Photo: Ibrahim Sarhan
I photographed him and shared his story. After that, people started to take notice — many began buying his harvest, and at better prices.
Just a few months ago, he took part in a national coffee competition and won first prize for producing the best quality coffee in Saudi Arabia.
I still have photos of his home, his daily life, and of him tending the coffee plants. He lives in a very remote and hard-to-reach mountain area, which makes his journey all the more remarkable.
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The camel rider. Photo: Ibrahim Sarhan
Another story I could share is about a camel rider I photographed. After I took his photos and shared them, he actually became quite well-known in his community — people would greet him on the street. The photos made him feel like a local hero, and he once told me how much that recognition meant to him.
— When you take a portrait, what is your goal?
— I don't have specific goals or agendas. I prefer letting the image speak for itself. Sometimes, I receive impressions about certain portraits that go beyond what I was thinking when I took the photograph. I love portraiture deeply; there is something eternal about it. Portraits reveal numerous details and stories about the human soul. They also frame a relationship between two people, one of whom is me.
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Portraits from The Empty Quarter (1, 2); portrait of two Mehri children (3). Photo: Ibrahim Sarhan
— Your photography explores the heart of Bedouin culture and its evolving traditions. What is something about the Bedouins that most people don't know?
— That they live close to nature and generally lead better lives. They are more beautiful in their authenticity and adherence to traditions. They are natural-born artists and creators.
— You have spent a lot of time with Bedouins. Can you share an interesting experience from your time with them?
— I believe that spending time with Bedouins restores a lot of perspective and removes the blur created by the façade of material civilization. Bedouins have a refined and heightened sensitivity toward life. They utilize the conveniences of modern life but don't allow these conveniences to steal their authenticity.
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Photo: Ibrahim Sarhan
— How do they react when you photograph them?
— Some of them had never been photographed before. So, when I first approach them, they are often open and welcoming — but also full of questions.
They wonder: Who is this guy? Will he tell the truth about us? Will he show us with respect? Or is he just here to take a photo and misrepresent us?
But when I share their photos — along with the reality, with honesty, and in the best possible light — they are happy. They feel seen. They are glad that someone is shedding light on parts of their culture that often go unnoticed.
That is probably the most common theme in my interactions with the Bedouins: earning trust, telling their stories with care, and giving visibility to lives that are rarely shown.
— How would you describe their daily life?
— Natural.
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Amer Al-Emrani, a Bedouin boy. Photo: Ibrahim Sarhan
— And this boy — whose photo we used as the main image for the article — he is a Bedouin, right?
— Yes! His name is Amer Al-Emrani. He lives in the north of Saudi Arabia. His family is deeply connected to racing camels. Every weekend, they go out to ride and spend time in the wilderness. And whenever there is a camel race, he takes part as a rider.
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Amer Al-Emrani, a Bedouin boy (on the right). Photo: Ibrahim Sarhan
— What is the most beautiful place you have ever photographed — one that still stays with you?
— It is hard to choose just one. For me, any natural place untouched by human hands is beautiful.
— I noticed a photo of volcanoes in Harrat Kishb. Can you share how you captured that shot? And could you tell us more about these volcanoes and your journey there?
— Yes, it is a unique and rare phenomenon — seven volcanic craters lined up in a perfectly straight line, which is truly astonishing on a global scale. I knew that Saudi Arabia had large volcanic fields, including Harrat Kishb, which I had visited before. But I wasn’t aware of this particular formation until I spotted it completely by accident — from the window of a plane flying from Jeddah to Riyadh.
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Harrat Kishb. Photo: Ibrahim Sarhan
At the time, I had no idea where exactly the plane was, but I quickly snapped a few photos with my phone. Later, I used Google Maps to search for the location until I found it. There wasn’t a clear path to get there, so I marked a few possible points on the map and began exploring the volcanic field.
That first trip wasn’t a success — the terrain was rough, and my vehicle got damaged. But I regrouped and went back the following week. This time, I managed to drive close to one of the craters. From there, I continued on foot and eventually reached the edge of the first crater — where I captured that photo.