I was born in Angola, but the upheavals of the country’s decolonization and independence process forced my family to migrate to Portugal. I built my life there until 2008, when the pull of my homeland became undeniable, and I returned to Angola. Working on the front lines of public projects for social and institutional development meant looking daily into the eyes of extreme poverty and vulnerability. This immersive experience did not just alter my career—it radically dismantled and rebuilt the way I see human existence. Driven by a profound need to document the quiet heroism of these communities, I turned to documentary photography. My purpose shifted from observing to witnessing: telling survival stories through a deeply humanistic, transformative lens, and restoring the dignity, voice, and reverence that society had stripped away. For me, the camera is a tool to study the raw architecture of the human condition—specifically, the fierce resilience that emerges from the absolute fragility of life. While my early work leaned into color, I have come to work almost exclusively in black and white. Stripping away the distraction of color forces the viewer to confront the naked emotion of the scene, making the narrative uncompromising and impactful. Today, my practice is entirely project-based, allowing me to abandon fleeting snapshots in favor of deep, structured, and visually solid narratives. Ultimately, I do not wish for my images to be merely looked at; I want them to provoke a reaction, trigger a conscience, and demand action. Forcing society to look into its own shadows to inspire change is my ultimate purpose—both as a photographer and as a human being.