Arsen Gvenetadze fondly remembers all his customers - helping couples to become parents is a joy worth treasuring. Mahir and Lala (not their real names) made no exception. “They were our very first patients when we introduced in-vitro fertilization (IVF) treatments in 2012,” recalls the 53-year-old gynecologist who heads a state-of-the-art reproductive clinic in Georgia’s capital Tbilisi. “They were in their late 30s and had already three daughters. The intended father told me “if the treatment is successful and the child is a girl, we’ll go for an abortion.” He wanted a son to keep his family name alive.”  It didn’t happen. The couple had twins, one of them is a boy - the family name was safe. Their case was not the only one Gvenetadze has come across in his 27 years of professional practice, it is likely not to be the last.

The only difference is the iPad. The tablet on Liliana’s lap is the only hint of the 21st century -- all the rest around her, on the palm tree-dotted promenade overlooking the Black Sea, looks like her first beach holiday in Abkhazia in the 1970s -- then the USSR, today one of Georgia’s two breakaway regions.  

Freedom takes different forms – for Soso Gagoshvili, it comes in the shape of a 123-year-old orange rust-covered printing press. Tucked away in Tbilisi’s Avlabari district, among car repair garages and decaying apartment blocks lays a crumbling wooden house. In its cellar, down a 40-foot creaky iron spiral staircase, sits a German-made machine used by budding Communists at the turn of the XX century.  

Miguel is stateless, one of the 595 individuals without a nationality registered in Georgia, according to the UN refugee agency, which speaks of at least 10 million stateless people worldwide, with approximately one third being children. About 680,000 are in Europe, yet migration flows since 2015 have made also that number a pure estimate.

Abkhazia’s youth, both millennials and post-millennials, have grown up surrounded by the legacy of the 1992-1993 conflict with Tbilisi over independence -- shattered buildings, power cuts, food shortages, a trade embargo, isolation from the outside world.  But they also have experienced changes that, to many, suggested a more promising future. Yet beyond a few bohemian cafés and burger joints along the Sokhumi promenade, places for young Abkhaz to relax or party with friends are still hard to come by. Large, youth-focused events are rare, though Abkhazia does have its own rock bands. 

From above, Baku is a blend of low old buildings, modern high rises and uninviting Soviet apartment blocks. Its walled historical heart, İçəri Şəhəror Old City, features elegant stone facades and shiny pebbled streets, a result of a steady beautification which earned Old Baku recognition as a UNESCO World Heritage site in 2000.

The Kura-Araks watershed has united individuals living across the South Caucasus for centuries, providing a lifeline to communities on either side of human borders. However, the interests of each nation often clash, leaving many issues, like water contamination, unaddressed. Neglected, daily life grows bleaker by the day for those whose livelihoods depend on the waters. This story follows the visual connections between the lives of those living along both rivers, documenting their struggle and resilience.