My Ramadan presents the result of a community-based photography project created with two groups of girls, ages 13–15, from Kafr Bara during the month of Ramadan. Guided by photographer Maya Maimoni and coordinator Aseel Assi, the participants were invited to explore their personal and collective experience of the holiday through the language of photography.
Over the course of three months, the girls learned the foundations of photographic practice—composition, perspective, depth of field, color, light and shadow, movement, and nonverbal visual expression. Through the camera, they examined the rituals and atmosphere of Ramadan: prayer, generosity, family gatherings, and the intergenerational bonds that shape daily life during this sacred time.
This year, Ramadan arrived in spring, and the girls were drawn to photograph blooming almond trees, pigeons crossing the sky between balconies, shepherds in the fields, beloved animals, festive meals, prayer corners, and quiet gestures of intimacy—such as the touch of a hand held by a grandmother. Through these images, each participant revealed her own unique point of view, transforming familiar spaces of home and village into personal visual narratives.
A rhythmic movement emerges from the photographs, following the sun and moon across the sky. Twilight became a particularly meaningful moment—capturing the anticipation between fasting and the evening meal, between solitude and family, between the private and the communal. Windows, balconies, and distant urban horizons frame many of the images, while decorative lights and local vegetation create delicate compositions of shadow and illumination, line and form.
These photographs invite deeper reflection on the symbolic relationship between light and darkness, the visible and the hidden, especially during Ramadan—a time when the Quran calls on the believer to turn inward and examine both self and action.
In an age where young people constantly document themselves through selfies and instant sharing, the girls’ choice to minimize the presence of people and family members in their photographs becomes especially striking. Is this an expression of modesty, of privacy, or of cultural sensitivity within an exhibition shown inside the village itself? Perhaps what is absent from the images is just as present and meaningful as what is seen.
My Ramadan offers not only a visual journey into the holiday, but also a quiet reflection on observation, belonging, and the power of young women to shape how their world is seen.