Quinkan
NGARRA’s Uganda Village project is a community-based initiative aimed at empowering youth in a remote village in Uganda through the transformative power of photography and storytelling.
the HEArt BEhinD NGarRA
A conversation with the founder who discovered that when you hand a camera to a child, you don't just change their world—you change yours too.
driven by purpose, not profit
linking artistic expression to tangible, sustainable socio-economic development, transcending conventional aid paradigms, offering a robust framework for youth-led narrative construction and community-driven impact.
Andrew D. Flanagan sits quietly for a moment before speaking, his hands resting on the table between us. There’s something about his presence that suggests someone who has learned to listen before he talks, to observe before he acts. When he finally speaks about Ngarra, his voice carries the weight of someone who has witnessed transformation – not just in the communities he works with, but in himself.
“It started with a simple idea,” he says, his eyes reflecting a mix of humility and determination. “Provide cameras and give young people the chance to tell their story. Not a version interpreted by a stranger, but their story—the way they want to share it.”
What began as that simple idea has grown into something far more profound than Flanagan ever anticipated. Ngarra—meaning “together as one” in the Dharug language—has become a global movement that challenges how we think about storytelling, community empowerment, and the responsibility that comes with bearing witness to other people’s lives.
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Andrew is careful not to position himself as the hero of this story. Instead, he speaks of Ngarra as something that emerged from relationship, from listening, from recognizing that the most powerful stories were already being lived—they just needed the tools to be shared.
“What came from that one idea was more than anticipated,” he reflects. “It went beyond providing aid or financial support, and became a window to another world—a world through the eyes of children that is full of hope, dreams, and possibilities—that inspired not only those in the community but everyone who came in contact with it as we started to share their stories around the globe.”
The moment of recognition came early, when Flanagan first saw the impact that could come from the lens of a camera. “Not from mine,” he emphasizes, “but from theirs.”
This shift in perspective—from extracting stories to empowering storytellers—became the philosophical foundation of everything Ngarra would become. It’s a distinction that Flanagan returns to repeatedly in our conversation, the difference between taking someone’s story and giving them the tools to tell it themselves.
The Meaning of Ngarra
When Flanagan speaks about the name “Ngarra,” his voice takes on a reverence that suggests deep learning and respect for the indigenous knowledge that guides the project. He’s spent years understanding not just the word, but the way of being it represents.
“Everywhere you go on this continent currently known as Australia, you will find ngarra everywhere, spoken in different tongues but always pointing to the same truth,” he explains. “Coming from the Dharug way, just south of my home on Wonnarua and Awabakal country, it means ‘together as one.’ For the Yolngu in the north, it means ‘being together,’ held in unity. To the Noongar in the west, it’s ‘to be connected,’ and for the Kaurna in the south, it speaks to ‘combining in common purpose.'”
This isn’t just linguistic curiosity for Flanagan—it’s foundational philosophy. “No matter what native land you’re standing on, ngarra is law. Not the kind written on paper but the kind carved into the land itself. It’s a way of being in relation—with each other, with the Earth, and with everything that breathes and moves around us.”
He pauses, searching for words to capture something that goes beyond language. “It’s not just a principle; it’s a pulse, a rhythm that ties us all together, a reminder that we are all sitting around the same fire, bound by purpose and place and promise.”While cameras are the tools, Flanagan is clear that Ngarra is about something much deeper than photography. “This is more than just taking pictures,” he says. “It’s about creating spaces—spaces where connection and self-expression flow freely, where perspectives come together to invite us to see worlds we rarely get to witness, to listen to voices we rarely get to hear.”
These spaces, he explains, allow people to “sit alongside friends, families, communities, experience their lives and create relationships between people that would otherwise never get the chance to meet.” Every project, every frame captured, every story shared is done “hand in hand with the communities themselves, with all profits return to the people who hold these stories, fueling their dreams and strengthening the futures they imagine for themselves.”
This commitment to reciprocity isn’t just ethical—it’s practical. “It’s a partnership, rooted in respect and reciprocity, ensuring that when these stories travel beyond their homeland, the benefits travel back as well, creating embassy, an intercontinental common lore of shared story that bring us all together.”
The Not-for-Profit Imperative
When I ask about Ngarra’s structure as a not-for-profit organization, Flanagan’s response reveals the depth of his commitment to community sovereignty. “Our mission never was and never will be driven by profit, but by purpose,” he states firmly. “We are a not-for-profit project because the work we do cannot and should not be measured by financial gain, nor should it be kept behind a paywall, nor held in reserves or the hands of individuals.”
This isn’t just about tax status—it’s about accountability. “We are accountable to the communities we serve, not to shareholders,” he explains. “Being a not-for-profit project is a reflection of the lore, the stories, the communities, the people and the land that guide us. Our work is built on the principles of reciprocity, community, and sustainability—not on competition or individual gain.”
The commitment to returning 100% of profits to communities isn’t just policy—it’s philosophy. “This accountability to our traditional lore ensures that every decision we make is in the best interest of those who entrust us with their stories, their hopes, and their futures. It allows us to reinvest every dollar earned back into the communities we work with, creating a cycle of support that builds resilience, fosters creativity, and inspires lasting change.”
Global Connections, Local Roots
As our conversation continues, Flanagan speaks about the global reach of Ngarra’s work—projects spanning from Kakadu to Cambodia, from Guatemala to India. But he’s careful to emphasize that this global scope doesn’t mean imposing a single model everywhere.
“Napagi napagi. Gadugi. Ganoñhsésge. Wóohečhota. K’é: K’é,” he says, listing words from different indigenous languages around the world. “Wherever you go in the world there is the same way—because it’s the right way.”
This “same way” isn’t about identical practices, but about shared principles: reciprocity, community, connection, respect for the land and for each other. Each Ngarra project emerges from local needs, local protocols, local wisdom, while connecting to this broader understanding of what it means to be in right relationship.
The Ripple Effect
When Flanagan talks about impact, he doesn’t reach for statistics or metrics. Instead, he speaks about transformation—the kind that happens when young people realize their stories matter, when communities see their lives reflected with dignity and complexity, when viewers around the world encounter perspectives that challenge their assumptions.
“It’s more than photographs,” he reflects. “It’s a bridge between worlds, voices, and generations. The heartbeat of culture captured in light and shadow. A fire that awakens connection and change. An impact in the hearts and lives of all who witness it.”
This impact, he emphasizes, flows in all directions. The young photographers are transformed by the experience of being heard and seen. Their communities are strengthened by having their stories shared with respect and reciprocity. And viewers around the world are challenged to see beyond the single stories they’ve been told about indigenous communities, about poverty, about what it means to live in remote or marginalized places.
The Invitation
As our conversation draws to a close, Flanagan returns to the theme of invitation—the idea that Ngarra isn’t just about creating beautiful images or even empowering young photographers, but about creating opportunities for genuine human connection across difference.
“We invite you to join us,” he says, his voice carrying both warmth and urgency. “To sit by the fire, to listen, to see through the lens of these young people, to share in the experience of their worlds, their stories, and be a part of making real change in the world.”
This invitation isn’t passive—it’s a call to relationship, to responsibility, to recognizing that “one story, one image, one connection at a time, we can reignite the shared humanity that binds us all together as one.”
The Fire That Drives
Throughout our conversation, Flanagan returns repeatedly to the metaphor of fire—the fire that drives Ngarra, the fire around which we all sit, the fire that awakens connection and change. It’s clear that for him, this isn’t just poetic language but lived reality.
“Ngarra is more than a word,” he says as we prepare to part. “It is a living practice, a shared promise of connection, cultural strength, and collective responsibility to each other. This is the heart of the fire that drives us, that fuels this movement of togetherness, of cultural preservation, empowerment, community, family, and of global change.”
In a world increasingly divided by difference, Andrew D. Flanagan and Ngarra offer something both simple and revolutionary: the recognition that when we create spaces for authentic storytelling, when we honor the full humanity of every person and community, when we commit to genuine reciprocity and relationship, we don’t just change individual lives—we change what becomes possible for all of us.
The cameras are just the beginning. The real work happens in the spaces between—in the relationships formed, the assumptions challenged, the connections made across difference. It happens when we recognize that we are all, indeed, sitting around the same fire, bound by purpose and place and promise, together as one.
the way forward is back. this is how we come into relation. this is how we remember who we are. all one people. all one fire.
Andrew D. Flanagan is the founder and director of the Ngarra Nonprofit Project. Based on Wonnarua and Awabakal country in Australia, he continues to learn from indigenous knowledge holders and communities around the world who have shaped his understanding of what it means to be in right relationship with each other and the land. When not traveling for Ngarra projects, he can be found sitting by fires, listening to stories, and working to create spaces where every voice can be heard.
To the Voices, the Platforms, and the Stories Shared
more that words on a page on a screen; they are living conduits, carrying wisdom from the Ancestors, insights from the land, and the raw, unfiltered truth of our lived experiences.
This journey of empowerment, this sharing of vital narratives, is not a solitary endeavor. It is a collective breath, made possible by those who choose to illuminate the paths of young storytellers and the communities they represent. So, to all who have lent their voice, their space, and their influence to Ngarra – we offer our deepest gratitude. Your commitment is not merely reporting; it is an active participation in the ceremony of re-relation, weaving threads of understanding and connection.
We extend our heartfelt thanks to those who have engaged with our mission, who have seen beyond the headlines to the profound human stories at the core of Ngarra. It is in these shared narratives, these moments of genuine insight and reciprocal sharing, that the true work of healing and connection begins.
They impact everyone who encounters them, reshaping our perceptions, deepening our empathy, and reminding us that we are all part of the same intricate pattern. May these features continue to ripple outwards, strengthening the web of connection for all our relations. Thank you for being part of this vital work.
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