An Exclusive Interview With
ROSHI ABA
British-Iranian, London-based Multi Award-Winning photographer
By Ariel SU
Through Their Eyes
A Journey Through People and Cultures
Featured Projects:
. Eagle Hunter Family
. Mongolia Nomadic Life
. Inside the Noodle Factory
Eagle Hunter Family
Roshi Aba © All rights reserved.
Roshi Aba © All rights reserved.
“Autumn had begun its slow creep across the land when I first found myself near Lake Issyk-Kul, chasing whispers of the berkutchi—the legendary eagle hunters.
The air carried the bite of winter’s approach, and the hills rolled endlessly, dotted with yurts, their smoke curling into the cold sky.”
– Roshi Aba
Roshi Aba © All rights reserved.
Roshi Aba © All rights reserved.
We are thrilled to present an exclusive interview with Roshi Aba, a British-Iranian multifaceted adventurer, talented photographer, and passionate theatre enthusiast. Originally from the colourful landscapes of Iran, Roshi is now based in London, United Kingdom. Throughout her vibrant career, she has traveled across the globe, using the art of photography to capture and document the rich tapestry of life and the ever-evolving essence of humanity.
At the heart of Roshi’s journey lies a deep commitment to connecting with individuals from various backgrounds. Her work evokes a profound message: that the bonds we create as humans can effortlessly bridge the divides of geography and culture beyond political boundaries and divided countries.
Through captivating interactions with people from diverse traditions, she weaves a narrative that highlights the vast spectrum of global diversity.
“Then I met Nursultan. He wasn’t particularly tall, but his presence was commanding. Wrapped in thick furs, he stood with a golden eagle perched on his arm—a creature of muscle, feathers, and piercing eyes that missed nothing.
“How long have you hunted?” I asked.
“Since I was a boy,” he said simply, his voice as steady as the mountains.
“My father trained me just as his father trained him. An eagle is not just an animal—it is a warrior, a part of my soul.”
At his whistle, the eagle launched skyward, its wings slicing the air. Nursultan rode, eyes sharp, scanning the land. Then—a cry. The eagle dove, a streak of gold and shadow, striking with precision. The hare
never stood a chance.”
-Roshi Aba
Roshi’s academic journey includes earning a Master’s degree in theatre from the esteemed Royal Central School of Speech and Drama. These academic years have profoundly shaped her understanding of storytelling and the intricate nuances of human emotions.
These elements seamlessly intertwine in her photographic practice, where each image is not just a visual representation but a poignant exploration of the stories and sentiments that resonate within different cultures.
Over the past decade, Roshi has explored some of the world’s most remote and vibrant corners—from isolated villages hidden in nature to bustling urban centers full of life. Her experiences are immersive, shaped by the rich traditions and unique lifestyles of the communities she engages with. Through her lens and thoughtful storytelling, she invites audiences into these worlds—offering a vivid and honest look at the diverse ways of life that shape our global identity.
The house I stayed in was small, its windows thick with frost. A single stove burned at its center, demanding constant attention. The grandmother of the family wrapped a heavy shawl around my shoulders and pressed a cup of tea into my hands.
Roshi Aba © All rights reserved.
“Winter is our greatest test,” she said, her voice as steady as the land itself. “But we survive. We always have.”
Each morning, the men rode out before sunrise, barely visible in the blizzard. The women milked cows, kneaded dough, and knitted woolen garments for the market. Children ran through the snow, their laughter
bright against the silent white.”
– Roshi Aba
An Exclusive Interview With
ROSHI ABA
British-Iranian, London-based Multi Award-Winning photographer
By Ariel SU
Lens Magazine: It’s a pleasure to interview you, Roshi. We are excited to showcase your three unique projects, which have received international recognition and awards through various competitions and photography organizations. Let’s start at the beginning. How did it all begin? Have you always had a passion for photography?
Roshi Aba: Thank you so much. It’s truly an honor to be interviewed by Lens Magazine, and I deeply appreciate the opportunity to share my work with your readers.
My path into photography wasn’t traditional. I didn’t study it formally and never followed a set plan.
What I did have, from an early age, was a deep curiosity about people—their emotions, body language, and the stories behind their silences. That curiosity eventually led me to study theatre, where I earned a master’s degree in London. Theatre helped me understand the language of human emotion, stillness, and unspoken expression—skills that continue to shape how I approach photography today.
Over time, I realized that photography could allow me to capture those same raw emotions and complex inner worlds in a single frame. With a camera in hand and a growing understanding of technique, I found a new way to tell stories—stories that didn’t need words to be powerful.
It was only after years of quiet exploration and creative discovery that photography became something more intentional.
My first journey was to India, where I spent a month traveling all across the country—from Rajasthan to Gujarat, Varanasi, Delhi, and beyond—spending nearly the entire time on the road.
That trip became a turning point. India overwhelmed and inspired me in equal measure. The sheer diversity of landscapes, languages, religions, and rituals was unlike anything I had ever encountered.
Every region revealed a new rhythm, and every face held a different story. I met people whose lives were shaped by contrast—sacred and chaotic, ancient and modern, joyful and heartbreaking. Their resilience and depth became my first true teachers in the field.
As my practice deepened, I began traveling with the purpose of photographing, documenting, and connecting on a deeper level with the world around me.
Over the past ten years, I’ve traveled to more than 80 countries, always in search of honest faces, layered emotions, and cultural narratives that speak to our shared humanity. For me, each photograph feels like a miniature book—a single frame that holds a full story, rich with meaning, memory, and feeling.
Photography has completely transformed how I live and see the world. I think of the people I’ve met in difficult moments—those living in the harshest environments with unshakable grace and resilience. Their strength reminds me to shift perspective, let go of what’s temporary, and return to what truly matters. That has been one of the most incredible lessons photography has given me.
Mongolia Nomadic Life
Roshi Aba ©All rights reserved.
Mongolia Nomadic Life
“The wind carried a taste of dust and distance, a whisper of lands unmeasured. Mongolia stretched before me like a living canvas—an endless expanse of golden steppes, rolling mountains, and forests thick with mystery. I had come here with a singular goal: to find the Tsaatan, the reindeer herders of the north, and capture their way of life through my lens. But the journey was not as simple as I had imagined. It would take me eight long days to reach them, stumbling through a season that made everything more difficult.”
-Roshi Aba
Roshi Aba ©All rights reserved.
“The nomadic families I encountered along the way became my guides, offering me shelter in their gers, feeding me mutton and salty milk tea, and pointing me in the right direction. In one ger, a woman with a weathered face and a strong voice laughed when I told her where I was going.
“You chose the hardest time,” she said, pouring more tea into my bowl. “Even we don’t travel so much now.”
I nodded, feeling the weight of her words but knowing that turning back was not an option.
After multiple failed attempts—wrong turns, dead ends, misleading trails—I finally found a group of Tsaatan people. Relief washed over me as I approached their camp, a small cluster of yurts (teepee-like tents) hidden in the dense forest. I made it.”
– Roshi Aba
Lens Magazine: You were born in Iran and later moved to London.
At what age did you move to London, and why? How did Iranian culture influence your artistic photography style?
Roshi Aba: I moved to London in my early twenties in search of academic growth and the freedom to express myself fully. But no matter where life has taken me, I always carry Iran with me—not just as the country of my birth but as a profound and living presence in my soul. Growing up in a land with over 10,000 years of history, I was surrounded by beauty—intricate architecture, handwoven carpets, ancient symbols, and stories passed down through generations. These visual elements weren’t just ornaments of culture; they were silent teachers. They shaped my eye for detail, love for symbolism, and instinct for emotional depth in visual storytelling. That influence lives in every frame I capture.
After years of traveling across the globe, I see the earth as one shared home, and I belong to all of it. My identity is fluid, my vision is global, and my inspiration comes from the contrasts and connections between cultures. Iran gave me my foundation and roots, but the world continues expanding my wings. Together, they shape the way I see, feel, and create.
Roshi Aba ©All rights reserved.
Lens Magazine: Let’s discuss your remarkable “Eagle Hunter Family” project taken in Kyrgyzstan.
I understand you first visited Kyrgyzstan in 2018 and returned several times. What initially attracted you to Kyrgyzstan in 2018? Did you travel alone or participate in a group workshop during your visit?
Roshi Aba: In 2018, I was officially sent to Kyrgyzstan for a documentary project. Once I arrived, I found myself in a region called Bokonbayevo. The first thing that caught my eye was an eagle hunter—his stance was striking and epic, almost like something straight out of ancient times. I was immediately drawn to photograph him.
But then, the real magic happened.
I got to know the man behind the hunter. He wasn’t just a figure in a dramatic scene—he was a provider for his family.
He had two beautiful daughters; the eldest was already training eagles at eleven years old. As I spent more time with them, I realized they were just like us—warm, hardworking, and full of love. They were doing these epic things not for show but to make a living.
Over the years, they became like family to me. I’ve visited them almost every season—winter, summer, you name it. And while the initial draw was the striking visuals, what matters most now is the connection between the man, his family, nature, and the animals. That’s the heart of the story.
Roshi Aba ©All rights reserved.
Lens Magazine: How did you communicate with the family?
Roshi Aba: Due to the language barrier, communicating with the Eagle Hunter family was definitely a challenge at first. Although my family is originally from Tabriz in northwestern Iran, and I understand Turkish, the dialect spoken in Kyrgyzstan differs from Azeri and Iranian Turkish. I could understand a few words, but most communication was made possible through my wonderful friend and professional guide in Kyrgyzstan, Begaly.
Begaly has been a constant support during my time there. He’s always with me on location, and his presence makes everything flow easily. His understanding of both the culture and the people is invaluable.
Interestingly, some of the most genuine moments of connection happened without words—through facial expressions, gestures, and a shared warmth. For me, communication isn’t just about language; it’s about connecting through the universal language of empathy and human experience.
Lens Magazine: What special knowledge do they have from their unique way of life, which is uncommon and unattainable in the Western world?
Roshi Aba: As a photographer, I’ve spent years searching for stories that go beyond what we see.
In Kyrgyzstan, I found something powerful: knowledge that isn’t written in books but passed down through generations. It’s quiet, natural, and deeply connected to the land.
In the West, we often try to control nature. But here, people live with it. They understand the wind, the snow, and the sky- not through weather apps or science but through instinct and experience. They’ve learned to survive by listening closely to the world around them.
Even the way they raise eagles is filled with meaning.
An eagle isn’t just a hunting partner; it becomes part of the hunter’s soul. After twenty years, they release them back into the wild. That takes real strength—knowing when to hold on and when to release.
They’ve shown me that resilience doesn’t always look strong on the outside. Sometimes, it’s quiet. It’s a grandmother making bread before sunrise, a child riding through deep snow with confidence, or stories shared around the fire at night.
In today’s fast-paced world, we often forget what really matters. But in Kyrgyzstan, I was reminded to slow down, listen deeply, and live with meaning and connection.
Lens Magazine: The second series we feature here is Mongolia Nomadic Life, focused on the Tsaatan community. What can you tell us about this travel?
Roshi Aba: Oh, Mongolia was a challenging journey! When I started, I had no idea exactly where I was going or how long it would take. All I knew was that I wanted to see the people with reindeer. I was captivated by the image of a boy sitting on top of a reindeer, and I knew I had to reach that destination.
The journey wasn’t straightforward. We needed a special permit for the Siberian area, which cost around $300. And since the war between Ukraine and Russia had just started, I was extra cautious about crossing any borders. It was a bit scary at times, but I was determined to find these people. It was also the wrong season—autumn—when the roads were terrible, and the reindeer herders were either far up in the mountains or on the Russian side. We drove in extremely rough conditions—sometimes for 16 hours a day, covering only 70 kilometers. After about eight or nine days, we finally found a small family with 30 reindeer.
They told us that most of the community was further up the mountain, probably in Russia, so I decided to stay with this family and get to know them. The language barrier was tough, but we connected through expressions and body language. They even gave me a tent, and I spent a couple of nights there, photographing their lifestyle and playing with the children.
My ultimate goal is to return in the middle of winter when I can climb higher and see the larger group of Tsaatan people in their full environment.
Lens Magazine: Unlike other nomadic Mongolians who herd sheep, goats, and horses primarily for food and trade, the Tsaatans have a unique relationship with their reindeer. How would you describe their connection with the reindeer?
Roshi Aba: I observed pure respect for nature, animals, and the earth from the Tsaatan people. The Tsaatan are among the most respectful tribal communities I’ve encountered. Even though they ride reindeer, they don’t exploit them. The reindeer are like family members—they are rarely eaten and only in absolute necessity.
When a child is born, they’re given a baby reindeer around age two or three. The children grow up with these animals, forming a bond like siblings. Each child has one or two reindeer that they grow up with, creating a deep, mutual understanding. The reindeer truly are part of the family, and they’re treated with immense care and respect.
The Tsaatan are incredible at working with nature. In their harsh, cold environment, no other animal could help them like the reindeer do. They know how to utilize these animals without ever abusing them. The relationship is built on mutual respect; you can feel that in every interaction. It’s amazing to see how they harness nature’s resources in a practical and deeply respectful way.
Roshi Aba © All rights reserved.
Inside the Noodle Factory
“I watched the men and women move between hot, steam-filled rooms, their bodies drenched in sweat. Their faces, worn from years of the same intense labor, were a testament to their resilience. They didn’t just work—they preserved something that was slipping away from the world outside. In a land where tradition was fading under the weight of modernity, this factory was one of the last strongholds of a way of life that refused to die.”
-Roshi Aba
Roshi Aba © All rights reserved.
Lens Magazine: Your project, Inside the Noodle Factory, was taken in Vietnam. Is it a private family factory? How did you discover the family? Is it an ancient method for creating the noodles?
Roshi Aba: The traditional rice noodle factory in Vietnam was an incredible find. This method of making rice noodles is extremely rare and almost extinct.
Only a few families in southern Vietnam still practice it.
I discovered this factory through a friend who knew the area well and tipped me off about these old, traditional trades.
When I first visited, I was amazed to see how the rice noodles were made. The factory was actually a family-run house, with two men and their families working in extremely hot, steamy conditions.
Because of the intense physical labor in those conditions, the workers were incredibly strong, almost like bodybuilders. Because of the steam, I had to clean my camera lens every five seconds, and I ended up with only a handful of clear photos out of hundreds. It was a real challenge but also an amazing experience.
Every 20 minutes or so, the men would leave the steamy room, head out to the balcony, and drink a big bottle of beer. They’d go through two or three bottles each time, which added up to about six bottles over a couple of hours. When I asked them how they could drink so much, they explained that the beer was the only thing keeping them hydrated in that intense heat. Without it, they would get dangerously dehydrated.
Interestingly, there was no sign of drunkenness—just hardworking people using what they had to get through the day. The women also worked hard, transferring the hot noodles to another room and packaging them in smaller portions. Even without the steam, it was still a tough environment, but they handled it with such strength and focus.
Lens Magazine: You have received international awards for five consecutive years in global competitions. What advice do you have for young photographers looking to embark on this journey in photography?
Roshi Aba: If there’s one thing, it’s this: be brave, follow your instincts, and don’t hesitate.
If you feel drawn to photograph a particular subject, grab your camera, make a connection, and just go for it. You’ll find that people around the world are generally much friendlier than you expect. Unless they’re psychopaths—which is pretty rare! —most people are kind, curious, and eager to help, especially when you’re a visitor.
Open your heart, smile, and show respect. When you become part of a community, even briefly, people will let you capture amazing moments. That’s really the core of what I’ve learned—everything else is secondary.
Roshi Aba © All rights reserved.
Lens Magazine: Do you have any special advice for female photographers traveling to distant places around the globe?
Roshi Aba: My advice for female photographers traveling to distant places is: don’t be afraid! Awareness and caution are important, but they shouldn’t hold you back from fully experiencing the world. Let your curiosity guide you. Don’t worry about what’s waiting in the future—focus on what you want to do right now. If your heart tells you to be somewhere or to photograph something, just do it. Don’t let clichés or societal expectations hold you back.
I know that as a woman from Iran, there can be a lot of cultural pressures and expectations. But I truly believe there are no limits. Women can do anything they set their minds to, and sometimes, it’s all about stepping out of your comfort zone. Be bold, follow what feels right, and remember that your curiosity is your greatest asset.
Roshi Aba © All rights reserved.
Lens Magazine: What does the future hold? Where would you like to visit in the future? Are there any scheduled exhibitions or art events in the coming months?
Roshi Aba: I’m not sure what the future holds, but I know my next few months will be packed with adventure! I’m heading to northwestern China to photograph that region, then down to Tibet. After that, I’ll return to Indonesia, which is like my second home. The tribal and community stories there are so captivating that I sometimes forget to photograph them because I get so immersed in the culture. I’ll also return to Kyrgyzstan, which feels like another second home.
I’m also excited about my upcoming book, “Flash and Fire,” A Journey Through Tradition and Culture, which will be published soon in the UK and available worldwide. Through photography, it explores the deep bonds within traditional communities and the timeless beauty of their way of life.
I’ll have a piece showing at Photo Paris, along with a few other exhibitions. I’m all about short-term plans, living in the moment, and capturing whatever feels right.
Roshi Aba © All rights reserved.
