Project dinila

Unrecognised struggle, unseen potential, and incurable lost

I woke up rather early that day, went to the kitchen to brew my first cup of coffee and lit my first stick of the day. The sky was overcast in the dullest grey colour imaginable. As I poured the water into my brewing cone, I prepared my well rested body to get my gear out of the box and load it into my bag.

I was fighting my indolent nature to get things moving and about. I grabbed the nearest bag next to me, poured my cup of coffee while lit up my second stick and took a deep drag before drinking my cup. I decided to pack my F3 with 300mm f/4.5 and 35-105mm f/3.5-4.5. While it’s not ideal for my liking, it’s been some time since I shot manually and the 35-105mm was one of the lenses that I barely used.

The event started at 7.00 am sharp. I left home by 6.55 am, and I was thinking to myself. It would start with all the ceremonial protocol and formalities. When I arrived at 7.30 am. It seemed everyone had already got cracking, and the stadium was divided into two parts, into the eastern and western sides. I crept my way from the western sides, passed through some officials and I successfully penetrated the stadium without raising any questions or detention.

People were gathering around the entrance. The air was full of excitement and anticipation, some folks chatting with one another. The athletes were ushered by their coach into the starting line, while others were huddled up discussing their strategies and, amongst these sober looking sports personalities.

I was standing awkwardly in my all black attire from yesterday. Looking around the corner, I couldn’t seem to find my mates. I snapped some images and decided to walk across the field to the eastern side.

As I arrived on the eastern side of the field, I caught the sight of my mates, sitting on the ground. Both of them are coaches for Paralympic athletic athletes. Ade was in the spotlight today. His athletes were competing in quite a lot of numbers for this two days event, while his wife, Icung, are somehow a little bit relaxed. She was on a scouting mission.

My attention was called onto the field when I heard a loud scream coming from the sandpit. Someone attempting a jump. Luckily I already had my gear ready, snapped at the right moment and here it goes.

It’s a bit of missed focus here and there, since it’s been sometime since I used a manual focus lenses, but it something that as a film photographer a skill that I must honed every now and then. This is my second time shooting an athletics event, and this time I was a bit trigger happy with a new battery pack for my camera.

It was a warm Monday morning, but my heart was filled to the brim with an even greater sense of comradery, a sense of respect and trust between two individuals that facing greater challenges, stigma and discrimination from both society and governmental bodies. A second class athlete in the eyes of men in the batik suit but an athlete with the resilience of a champion attempting to etched their name in the epic of history.

I’m closing this chapter with a poignant series of images of two human beings doing their best in the destitution and always giving their finest labour just to be seen as something that needs to be done, not something that needs to be celebrated.

Part 2 is coming up soon, in technicolour. In the meantime, let us celebrate these wonderful human beings and their eternal spirit.

Potramk
2025