The small village of Wyamdé in the northern part of Togo is covered in soot, giving the landscape a somewhat lunar appearance. The heart of the village beats loudly, rhythmically, healthily, hammering stone against red-hot steel.

– How much does that stone weigh, 10-15 kilos?

– The heavier, the better. It depends on the blacksmith. He must strike the red-hot iron firmly. He cannot afford a mistake.

A mistake means a serious injury, and accidents do happen. There are no fancy machines, no professional tools here. A woman diligently fans the flames in a clay furnace with two cowhide bellows. A man waits for a piece of steel rim to glow red-hot. Instead of a blacksmith’s hammer, a granite stone; instead of an anvil, a piece of granite rock.

People built of titanium, machines of blood, bone, and muscles hard as granite, give new life to old car rims, turning them into hoes and plows.

The furnace emits intense heat, with 40 degrees even in the shade. The air hangs heavy and stagnant. Sweat pours from my forehead just from watching the blacksmith at work. I know of no harder job. I am grateful for my own. The people of Wyamdé have my utmost respect.

Mateusz Gasiński