Ever dream of taking National Geographic-worthy photographs?
This photographic safari through Kenya’s Masai Mara will bring you a step closer.
Have you ever paused over an image of a lion framed by the golden glow of an African sunset and thought, “I wish I could capture something like that.” The truth is, you can. Africa offers some of the most spectacular light, landscapes, and wildlife on Earth. From the drama of wildebeest thundering across the plains to the quiet elegance of a leopard in a fever tree, or the subtle beauty of a crowned crane, every moment invites you to tell a story through your lens.
We’re thrilled to announce a new 6-night guided photographic safari in the Masai Mara, led by Amish Chhagan, Zambian-born, award-winning photographer and Nikon MEA Creator. Departing Nairobi on 4 June 2026, this small-group journey is designed for those who want to deepen both their photographic skills and their connection to Africa’s wild beauty. With Amish’s personal guidance and only a handful of spaces available, it promises an experience that is as intimate as it is inspiring.
Diana interviewed Amish below, where he shares about what drew him to wildlife photography, as well as several tips for improving your photographic skills.
How did you first get into safari photography, and what drew you to Africa in particular?
Like most great things in life, photography came to me by chance—and some creative experimentation. Growing up in Zambia, I was surrounded by the wild from an early age—its sounds, its rhythms, its untamed beauty. But it wasn’t until much later that I found a way to capture it.
I first experimented with my father’s film camera as a teenager, though the cost of film and development made it difficult to pursue seriously. Years later, while living in London, that creative spark returned. I picked up a basic Nikon DSLR—a huge leap from the small digital cameras I’d used before—and began rediscovering photography. It was a welcome escape from the demands of my day job, a way to reconnect with something creative and fun.
Then came a trip that changed everything: my first visit to the Masai Mara. The sheer abundance of life was overwhelming—every moment teeming with movement and story. I had just invested in a new telephoto lens, and from the first game drive, I couldn’t stop shooting. That evening, sitting outside my tent and scrolling through the images, I felt the same surge of adrenaline I’d experienced in the field. I was hooked.
That trip and the realisations that came after marked the convergence point—where my excitement and love for the wild and nature, a passion for photography, and, with time, a growing sense of responsibility toward conservation all came together. The pieces of my creative puzzle had finally fallen into place.
What’s in your “essentials only” camera gear for safari?
Two camera bodies, so I’m always ready without needing to swap lenses mid-action – Nikon Z9 and Z7. My telephoto lens for distant subjects, a 70–200mm for more flexible framing, and a wide-angle lens for sweeping landscapes or intimate and close-up shots. All of it fits neatly into my F-Stop camera bag. And I never forget the spare batteries and backup hard drives – I learned the hard way!
And then there are the less “technical” essentials: brewed coffee with Reishi mushroom, a good snack, and most importantly, a relaxed, peaceful mind.
Because the best images often come when you’re still, observant, and in tune with the wild around you; where creativity lives, in the quiet balance of everything.
How do you approach storytelling through your images? What do you look for beyond the animal itself?
Storytelling is at the heart of my photography. There’s a big difference between taking an image and making an image with intent. Taking a photo can be purely reactive—capturing what’s in front of you in the moment. Making an image with intent, on the other hand, is about seeing beyond the subject: understanding the story you want to tell, the emotion you want to evoke, and the message you want to convey. It doesn’t mean you have to overthink or meticulously plan the shot — intent can emerge naturally and subconsciously, guided by intuition and a deep connection to the moment.
This journey goes beyond merely capturing images. Through my art, I aim to highlight the delicate balance we must protect, showing not just the beauty of wildlife and landscapes, but also the challenges they face – this is a story in itself. By sharing these moments, I hope to inspire meaningful change—encouraging viewers to care, to act, and to support conservation efforts, even with the smallest day-to-day actions. Each image becomes a visual ode to the wild, a testament to its resilience, its vulnerability, and the responsibility we all share.
Light is everything in photography. How do you work with Africa’s light, from the golden dawn to harsh midday sun?
Lighting is everything, absolutely!
The soft, warm glow of golden hour is my favourite—nature’s perfect light. It invites creativity, whether through silhouettes, rim lighting, motion blur, or simply a beautifully lit portrait.
Harsh midday sun can be challenging, casting strong shadows under the eyes and producing high contrast that’s difficult to manage. At the same time, it can be used creatively—embracing the contrasts to create high-key moments or bold, striking compositions that convey drama and intensity.
Overcast skies are a photographer’s secret weapon. The diffused light softens shadows, evens exposure, and enhances mood, especially when dramatic skies form the backdrop. These conditions are perfect for capturing atmospheric, storytelling-rich images.
What role does patience play in capturing that perfect moment in the bush?
Patience, like understanding light, is critical—a skill every nature and wildlife photographer must develop. It’s something I had to learn over time. When I was younger, I often found myself restless, eager for something to happen. But nature doesn’t operate on our schedule—it reveals itself when it’s ready. Over the years, I’ve realised that patience isn’t just about waiting; it’s a meditative process in itself.
It’s in those long, quiet stretches—when nothing seems to be happening—that you start to notice the subtle cues: a flick of an ear, a shift in the wind, the change in light that hints at something about to unfold. That’s when the magic often happens.
And yes, having an incredible guide can also help—someone who reads the land, the light, and the animals, and helps you stay calm, ready, and aware. Patience teaches you to move with the rhythm of the wild—to anticipate, not chase, the moment.
How do you balance being present and experiencing the moment versus focusing on getting the shot?
This is a tough and constant dilemma for many photographers. It’s a tricky balance, but an important one—because how you navigate it shapes your perception, what you see, how you see it, and ultimately what you create.
With time, I’ve learned to simply pause—to observe what’s happening for at least the first few minutes of a sighting (though it’s not always possible!). I’ve realised it’s not only about photography, but about connecting with the moment—and that connection brings perspective. When you slow down and truly observe—the rhythm of an elephant herd, the patience of a leopard, the balance in an ecosystem—you start to notice patterns that reflect into your own life.
For me, it’s often about putting the camera down and taking a quiet moment to appreciate how lucky I am to be there. By allowing myself to absorb the scene, I better understand the story I want to tell and the emotion I hope to capture—because I’ve felt it first. Everyone finds their own rhythm out there, but for me, it’s those quiet moments that give the photograph—and the experience—its depth.
What are some common mistakes people make when photographing wildlife?
Too much focus on technical and gear
Many beginners focus too much on having the “best” gear. You don’t need the top-of-the-line camera to get a great photo.
I use high-end Nikon gear because I’ve reached a point where I’ve exhausted the capabilities of what my earlier cameras could do. That’s when an upgrade makes sense — when your creative vision outgrows your equipment, not the other way around. The real progress comes from refining your craft, not from chasing new gear.
Technical knowledge—exposure, composition, and the fundamentals—enables you to express your vision. Learn them, master them, but understand that these are merely tools, much like your camera. In wildlife photography, I’d say it’s roughly 30% technical, 70% creative.
Ansel Adams summarises this perfectly – “The single most important component of a camera is the twelve inches behind it.”
Lack of patience and learning to slow down
As we’ve already discussed, patience is critical in two ways. First, understanding that nature operates on its own schedule—you can’t force it to perform. Second, managing your own excitement when encountering a new sighting.
Many people are prepping cameras on the bean bags before we’ve even stopped. I’ve seen groups of sleeping lions where, in the first five minutes, hundreds of images are captured. This makes post-processing such a burden, with so many near-identical shots to sort through. It’s easy to get excited, but taking a few moments to observe, breathe, and truly feel the scene first will guide your creative choices. Of course, split-second action shots require speed—but the more time you spend in the wild, the more you witness these moments, the more you practice, the better your instincts become.
Neglecting light and composition
Even with the best camera, poor light or framing can make a technically perfect image feel flat or uninteresting. Photography is about more than capturing a subject—it’s about capturing the story, the mood, and the environment. Learning to read and work with light, shadows, understand perspective, and consider the surroundings is probably more important than any lens or gear. In the field, I often take a few moments to observe how the light falls, how the animal interacts with its environment, and where I can position myself to create a compelling composition. These small choices—framing, angle, background, and timing—can transform a simple snapshot into an image that truly resonates.
Over-Processing in post
Post-processing is there to elevate a strong image, not to rescue one. It can’t replace thoughtful planning, patience, or awareness in the field. If a shot doesn’t turn out as you intended—if the focus is off, the composition feels weak, or you can’t see a creative way to enhance it—sometimes the best approach is to set it aside or even discard it.
Use it as a learning opportunity: ask yourself what went wrong, how the light, timing, or angle could have been better, and remember this for your next outing—experiment, try again and then again. Over time, this mindset will train your eye, improve your instincts, and ultimately lead to stronger images straight from the camera, reducing reliance on heavy post-processing.
Whether you’re a budding photographer or taking your camera on safari for the very first time, Amish’s hands-on guidance in Kenya will help you see — and shoot — the wilderness in a new way. His approach is personal, patient, and designed to help you grow in confidence behind the lens.
Reply to this email if you’d like more details or forward this to an aspiring photographer who dreams of capturing Africa’s wild beauty.
Happy travelling,
Diana