Can you photograph people in Morocco?

The light is perfect. The old man in the doorway looks like a painting. You raise your phone. And something shifts — in his face, in the air between you.

Morocco is one of the most photographed countries on earth. It's also one of the places where photographing people without asking causes the most friction. The two things are connected.

The general rule is simple: **ask first**. In Darija, *nqder nsewwrek?* (can I photograph you?) or even just pointing at your camera and raising your eyebrows will do. Most people will say yes. Some will say no. Both answers deserve the same respect.

**Women and children should generally not be photographed.** This isn't a suggestion — it's a cultural boundary. In conservative neighborhoods, photographing a woman without her consent can cause genuine offence to her and her family. With children, parents may not be present to give permission, and the image ends up on a stranger's phone in a country they've never been to. In rural and remote areas, communities may be more relaxed — or more protective. The answer is always the same: it comes down to asking.

Some people you'll encounter are performing *for* the camera: snake charmers on Jemaa el-Fna, henna ladies, musicians, water sellers in traditional dress. They expect payment for photos — usually 10–20 MAD. This is their livelihood. The photograph is the product. Pay before or agree a price after, but don't pretend you didn't take one.

Shopkeepers and artisans are often happy to be photographed, especially if you've bought something or shown genuine interest in their craft. Market stalls, architecture, food — all fair game. It's people's faces where the line sits.

The instinct to photograph everything is understandable. The medina is visually extraordinary. But a camera creates distance. The best moments in Morocco — the tea you're offered in a carpet shop, the conversation on a rooftop — tend to happen after you put the phone down.