When the Lens Crosses a Line

When the Lens Crosses a Line

Apr 26 , 2025. By Eden Sahle ( Eden Sahle is founder and CEO of Yada Technology Plc. She has studied law with a focus on international economic law. She can be reached at edensah2000@gmail.com. )

Over two years ago, on our first wedding anniversary, my husband and I wanted to do something meaningful. We decided to recreate our wedding as a quiet celebration of love, growth, and everything in between with our first child growing inside me.

We spared no expense. We hired one of the most sought-after photographers in town, paying nearly 300,000 Br to preserve this moment in time. We stood together, smiled, and let a stranger witness our joy through the lens.

When the photos came, they were beautifully large framed, edited, and carefully wrapped. But there it was: a glaring logo and phone number, stamped etched onto every photograph. Our intimate moment, branded like an ad. Even before we got the photos ourselves, our friends and family had already seen, shared without our permission on the photographer’s social media pages. Two years later, our images are still being used to promote someone else's business.

In an age where personal images travel farther than ever, privacy is becoming increasingly fragile. The first breach of privacy doesn’t happen online, it often happens at home. That smiling portrait hung in the living room, meant to honor a milestone, now feels like a branded billboard. And when we later had our baby’s photo taken, we watched the same story unfold: our child’s face, on a stranger’s page, under a logo we never agreed to carry.

What’s supposed to be a treasured keepsake becomes a marketing tool. Photographers are increasingly embedding branding into everything: wall portraits, albums, digital copies. These details, inserted without consent, turn clients into unwitting advertisers, often in their most personal spaces.

Even after buying the pictures at high prices, we remain constant advertisers inside our own living room. Our photos hang in our house, and every guest who sees it also sees a brand we never agreed to promote. And we are not the only ones. I see these famed photographers' logos in most households angering families.

To be fair, photographers have every right to protect their intellectual property and build their brand. Discreet branding, particularly when agreed upon, helps them compete and ensures their work is recognized. But there is a fine line between promotion and intrusion, and many have blurred it.

A recurring issue is that clients aren’t given a choice. Clients aren’t being asked; they’re being assumed. Branding is treated as standard, not optional. Some photographers even suggest clients enjoy being featured online, as though it were an honor to be used as proof of their prestige. But joy turns to frustration when families, like ours, find themselves involuntarily turned into marketing material.

This isn’t about photographers protecting their work. Copyright law already gives them that right. They own the photo but not the right to use that photo however they like, especially for commercial promotion. That requires consent from the client.

And it’s not just ethically problematic; it’s legally questionable too.

Last year, Ethiopia enacted its first comprehensive Personal Data Protection Proclamation, inspired by the European Union’s General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR). Under this law, images are considered personal data. Using a photograph for promotional purposes without explicit consent can now be considered a violation. Ethiopia’s Constitution also guarantees the right to privacy, extending to personal and family life.

Elsewhere, legal frameworks are even clearer. The GDPR mandates informed consent for any commercial use of personal data, including photos. The U.S., while state-specific in its laws, often protects individuals through “right of publicity” provisions. Globally, the Universal Declaration of Human Rights enshrines privacy as a fundamental right.

But even where the law is silent, ethics should speak loudly. Adding a logo to someone’s family portrait without permission is like engraving your initials into their wedding ring. It’s an act of ownership over something that isn’t yours. It turns professional service into a transactional relationship that benefits only one party.

The fix is simple. Photographers should present clear contracts outlining how images may be used. Clients should be offered the option to opt in – or out – of promotional use. Branding, if requested, should be subtle: on the back of a frame, within a printed album, or included discreetly in metadata; not across the image itself. And when children are involved, even greater care is required.

This is where professionalism matters

There is growing demand in Ethiopia for better regulation of personal data and image rights. Until lawmakers catch up with laws and implementation, the responsibility falls on both photographers and clients to set respectful boundaries.

The lens should capture memories, not claim ownership of them. In the end, a family photo should be a source of joy not a reminder that our privacy was collateral in someone else’s marketing plan.

The camera may belong to the photographer, but the moment belongs to the client. Until stronger laws are passed in Ethiopia, it’s up to us the public and professionals with integrity to reset the norm.

Photos are personal. Memories are not marketing tools. And homes are not ad spaces. Photographers have the right to grow their brand but not at the expense of privacy, consent, and trust.

PUBLISHED ON Apr 26,2025 [ VOL 26 , NO 1304]

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