LocationsReflections of a conservation photojournalist
The story of wildlife is our story
March 2, 2026
Firefighters protecting the Pantanal wetlands in Mato Grosso do Sul, Brazil in 2024.
Photo: Fernando Faciole
I’m a conservation photojournalist based in São Paulo, and a National Geographic contributor and Explorer. But long before that, my relationship with wildlife began in a much simpler way.
I grew up spending long periods in a trailer surrounded by the Atlantic Forest with my family. I remember keeping tadpoles in a small container and checking on them every day, waiting for the moment when legs would begin to grow. I remember watching beetles cross the forest floor after the rain and wondering how something as delicate as a butterfly could begin life as a caterpillar. Those moments shaped my way of seeing. These quiet moments taught me patience and attention, and they gave me the sense that nature is not something separate from us. It is something we belong to.
Fernando Faciole spent long periods of his childhood in the Atlantic Forest, Brazil, which sparked his love for nature.
Photo: Fernando Faciole
Photography entered my life when I was around fifteen. I began bringing a camera with me on fishing trips with my father, and those journeys gave me the privilege of experiencing extraordinary places, including the Brazilian Amazon. While others focused on fishing, I often found myself absorbed by the light rising over the river, the silence of the forest at dawn, and the presence of wildlife along the banks. The camera became a tool for observation. It taught me to slow down and look carefully.
Only later did I choose to study biology. I wanted to understand more deeply what I had already begun to witness and photograph. I wanted to learn how ecosystems sustain themselves, how species depend on one another, and how fragile balance can be. Science gave structure to my curiosity and strengthened my sense of responsibility as a storyteller.
Fernando Faciole, during one of his assignments at Lake Naivasha, Kenya in 2022.
Photo: Fernando Faciole
Fernando Faciole, on assignment in Eburru Forest, Kenya in 2022.
Photo: Fernando Faciole
At the early stages of my photography career all I wanted was to capture beautiful wildlife portraits and landscapes. I believed nature itself was the centre of the narrative. But spending time in the field gradually changed that perspective, and I slowly became a conservation photographer, aiming to reveal the quieter layers behind a wildlife portrait or landscape: the threats surrounding those ecosystems, the local communities coexisting with them, the researchers working to find solutions and the complex realities that are not immediately visible. The more I worked alongside communities directly affected by environmental change, the clearer it became that there are no environmental stories without the human stories attached to them.
Deforestation is not only about forest loss. It is about land rights, economic pressure and cultural identity. Climate change is not just about rising temperatures. It is about displacement, adaptation and survival. Ocean degradation is not only about coral reefs bleaching. It is about food systems and coastal livelihoods built over generations. Conservation and human reality are inseparable, and acknowledging that connection changes the way we communicate these issues.
Brazil embodies this complexity every day. We are home to extraordinary biodiversity, from the Amazon rainforest to the Atlantic Forest, from the Cerrado to the Pantanal. These ecosystems are globally significant, yet they face immense pressure. Deforestation driven by land disputes and economic expansion, illegal mining, intensifying droughts and large-scale fires are not distant headlines for us. They are visible realities. In the Atlantic Forest, only a small fraction of the original biome still stands. In the Pantanal, extreme drought and wildfires have reshaped landscapes that once seemed resilient.
And yet, the story is not only one of loss. I have seen researchers dedicate decades to monitoring fragile species. I have witnessed local communities building solutions with limited resources but extraordinary determination. There is urgency, but there is also resilience.
We live in a time when images circulate endlessly. Photographs move quickly across screens and disappear just as quickly. The challenge is not to produce more visuals, but to create meaning. An image may capture attention for a moment, but a story gives it depth.
When environmental issues are communicated only through statistics, we understand scale. Charts and targets are essential for policy and international agreements. But numbers alone rarely move people to act. Stories do. When biodiversity loss is understood through the lived experience of someone protecting their territory, it becomes personal. When water scarcity is seen through a family adjusting to a changing river, it becomes tangible. When conservation is portrayed as collaboration between scientists, communities and local leaders, it becomes human.
A giant anteater pup follows its caretaker after the day’s last feeding, when they are encouraged to exercise in their rehabilitation centre.
Photo: Fernando Faciole
Representation carries responsibility. The people connected to these ecosystems are not passive victims. They are knowledge holders, decision makers and active participants in shaping solutions. How we frame them influences how audiences understand responsibility and agency.
Over the years, my work has taken me to more than 30 countries across all continents. Different ecosystems and cultures, yet the same truth remains. Wildlife is not separate from people. Healthy forests regulate climate and secure water sources. Pollinators sustain crops. Wetlands and mangroves buffer storms. Oceans feed communities. When ecosystems collapse, the consequences extend far beyond individual species.
Wildlife matters because it sustains the balance that all life depends on. Protecting it is not only about preserving beauty or preventing extinction. It is about safeguarding stability and opportunity for future generations.
On World Wildlife Day, I think back to that child observing tadpoles in the Atlantic Forest and to that teenager photographing the Amazon at sunrise. Caring felt natural because it came from proximity and lived experience.
There is no denying the scale of the crisis we face. Species are declining, ecosystems are under pressure and the climate crisis intensifies vulnerabilities. But there is also space for hope. I have seen restoration efforts working. I have seen landscapes beginning to recover. I have seen young people choosing careers in conservation because they believe change is possible.
So on this World Wildlife Day, my message is simple. Do not give up. There are still forests standing. There are still communities protecting what remains. The story of wildlife is not separate from the story of humanity. It is the same story, and the way we choose to tell it shapes the way we choose to act. And the way we act will shape what remains.
Fernando Faciole photographing the Pokot community in Laikipia, Kenya in 2022.
Photo: Fernando Faciole
Fernando Faciole is a National Geographic Explorer in storytelling, a conservation photographer, and biologist from São Paulo, Brazil, with dual citizenship in Brazil and Italy. Faciole is a member of the International League of Conservation Photographers (iLCP), where he became the youngest Brazilian to join and only the third from his country in this prestigious network.
From photographing flamingos in captivity in the Dominican Republic to capturing the devastating drought and wildfires in the Pantanal wetlands, and telling the story of crabs on one of the most remote islands on Earth, his images have been published by leading outlets including National Geographic Magazine and BBC Wildlife Magazine. Faciole’s storytelling has earned international recognition, including the Impact Award at Wildlife Photographer of the Year 2025, Public Award at the Environmental Photography Award (2024 and 2025), the Panda Award at the Wildscreen Festival (2022), and a place on the Forbes Under 30 Brazil list in 2024. He is documenting the endangered Giant Armadillo (Priodontes maximus) in the Atlantic Forest’s Rio Doce State Park, in collaboration with ICAS researchers, highlighting the conservation challenges and efforts to protect this keystone species. His work can be found at www.fernandofaciole.com and on Instagram @fernando.faciole.
