This Egyptian Wildlife Photographer Swapped Safaris for Yoga Retreats

In a world obsessed with speed—fast Wi-Fi, fast fashion, fast food—there are still those who seek stillness. It unfolds at dawn in Egypt’s Eastern Desert, where yogis move like silhouettes against dunes, their breath syncing with the wind. It hums in Cairo’s Rehab district, within a sunlit studio named ‘Our Earth Space,’ where mothers-to-be reclaim their bodies as sanctuaries. And it pulses in the journey of Amira Ihab: a former wildlife photographer who traded chasing lions for cultivating stillness.

“I started behind a camera lens when I was 19,” Ihab says, her voice steady, as if recalling a clear memory. “I didn’t have a plan, really—just a restless urge to travel, to see the world, and capture its beauty.”

For years, she did just that. With a self-taught photographer’s eye and a backpack full of curiosity, Ihab framed the wild’s untamed poetry: elephants marching through Tanzanian dust storms, Namibia’s skeletal trees clawing at apricot skies. But beneath the adrenaline of the chase simmered a quiet dissonance. “When I came back home, I tried different things—advertising, teaching. But something was missing.”

That “something” found her in the stillness of travel. “Between quiet moments in nature, long walks, and the space of being far from home, I found yoga.” What began as a private ritual soon reshaped her life. After many training sessions, and a lot of learning—and unlearning—yoga evolved into her full-time job.

By 2025, Ihab’s vision crystallised into ‘Our Earth Space.’ “It started in the garden at my family’s home. It was simple, and it felt right.” Today, her retreats—hosted under desert skies, atop coral reefs, and in collaboration with Bali’s ‘Zuna Yoga’—are antidotes to modern frenzy. 

Egypt’s landscapes are both muse and guide. “My background in photography still shapes how I design journeys—I see everything through a lens of wonder.” Ihab hopes participants don’t just witness beauty, but truly feel it. To leave with memories that stay in the body, not just on a screen. At Wadi El Gemal National Park, dawn yoga sessions mirror the desert’s patient rhythms; in the Red Sea, floating meditations dissolve the line between body and water. “The desert strips you bare. And in that bareness, you find everything.”

Motherhood, she admits, rewired her entirely. “It taught me to slow down, be patient with myself, and deeply value rest and support.” This spirit now shapes her prenatal classes, where women come not to “fix” themselves, but to reclaim their bodies as sanctuaries.

Challenges? Of course. Running your own venture isn’t without challenges—doubt, exhaustion, uncertainty. Yet collaborations—like with Zuna Yoga—anchor her mission: “to support others in growing and sharing their own light.” 

As for the future? “I see Our Earth Space exploring new cultures, weaving in creative and ecological elements, and staying true to its roots.” 

A new Cairo studio is imminent, but Ihab’s metric for success remains intangible. “There’s a sunrise I often think about—just me, my camera, the ocean, and the sound of my own breath. In that moment, I felt both incredibly small and completely connected. That’s the feeling I hope to share.”

In a world racing toward the next big thing, Amira Ihab’s revolution is refreshingly simple: slow down, feel deeper, and let the wild—both outside and within—guide you home.