I  purchased my first plane ticket to France at twenty-years-old, leaving behind all that was familiar to me. Little did I know the years growing up in the quiet plains of West Africa would make such an impression on my life– or that sharing it with the rest of the world, would become my destiny.

From the Northern part of Burkina Faso, Sabce, Africa, my family and I, of the Fulani Tribe, were nomadic herders. We led sheep, goat, and chickens to greener pastures. I was the youngest of seven brothers and two sisters, and one of three kids in my entire village that had that opportunity to attend school. However like most other kids, four months of the year, after school, and on weekends, I, too, was a herder. But it was on those two-mile hikes to and from school each day, I recall questioning our way of life.

We ate to survive. Being vegetarian, our main staples were millet and vegetable. And dry seasons in the region were the most difficult as many animals would starve to death. To me, that was very painful as the animals became an extension of me. I was reminded that each generation before me and after me was destined to remain a herder.

Though I loved the lifestyle for what it gave me: a deep connection to the animal kingdom (sheep would sleep beside and on me), the unforgettable beauty of rainy seasons, and an appreciation for nature that would stay with me forever– I became restless and desired change.

My family thought I was crazy to want more from life. My “sky is wide open” philosophy had them concerned that I was denying what our ancestors gave and did for us. But I couldn’t help it, something nagged at me. I wanted it to live on, so I began drawing my feelings and nature around me at twelve-years-old.