For a moment, the workers disappear in the clouds of dust that billow across the white limestone plains as the old circular saws they handle cut through rock in a deafening noise.Every day thousands of men and boys, some as young as 12, travel in the back of pickup trucks to the limestones quarries of Al-Minya, about 300km (186 miles) south of Cairo in Egypt.

They slice the limestone into bricks by pushing the machines with saws across the lunar landscape.The old equipment is unsafe and the work is extremely dangerous.

Wearing scarves and sunglasses to protect themselves from the dust, many workers have respiratory diseases and complain of severe eye pain.

In the summer, the temperature in the quarries can reach 50C.View image in fullscreenView image in fullscreen“There are regular accidents.

Some men have lost arms, legs and their lives,” says the French photographer Lucien Migné, who travelled to the quarries in 2022.

The workers “are aware of the risks, but they feel they don’t have a choice”.

The limestone quarries are the main source of employment in the region.

Workers can earn up to 120 Egyptian pounds (£3) a day, but risk paying the price with their lives.From Egypt and Ethiopia to Bangladesh, Migné’s work tells the stories of forgotten and marginalised people, whose livelihoods have remained unchanged by the rapid computerisation of society.Migné focuses on what he describes as “feudal” power dynamics between the world’s rich and poor, which come to the fore in how people work.

“It’s about shedding light on these working conditions with the idea that the photos can perhaps empower someone to act.”Throughout his reportage, Migné says he has been “astonished” by stories of human resilience in the face of strenuous, insecure and low-paid work.View image in fullscreenView image in fullscreenIn the Manshiet Nasser district of Cairo, a Coptic Christian community has been collecting, sorting and recycling the city’s waste for nearly a century.

Known as Zabbaleen, which means literally “garbage people” in Egyptian Arabic, the group are stigmatised for their religion and their work, and many live in extreme poverty.And yet, the Zabbaleen have created one of the most efficient waste recycling systems in the world – providing one of Africa’s most populous cities with a critical service.

Women sort the waste while men recycle materials in informal, family-run workshops.

The city produces waste faster than the Zabbaleen can process it and the work continues through the night.

Many have respiratory diseases, probably caused by the toxic fumes given off when plastic is melted into small pellets that can be reused.“It’s gruelling and backbreaking work.

But people aren’t complaining.

Like in every job, people talk and laugh,” says Migné.

“I found that people lived in great dignity.

They consider what they do a job like any other.

As long as there’s a job to do, then it’s good to take.”View image in fullscreenIn Ethiopia’s northern Tigray region, Migné met people struggling to survive after two years of war and a year of fragile peace.More than 1 million people remain displaced by the conflict.

Smallholder farmers have lost their crops, livestock and sources of income because of the war.

“I have seen people dying of hunger,” he says.

“People here want the world to notice them.”In the Gheralta mountains, Leter Kidam sows teff seeds.

She doesn’t have enough money to buy fertilisers and expects a poor yield.

Her daughters have to help her work the land if they are going to have anything to eat.

“Here, if you do nothing, you will have nothing,” says Migné.In the south of the country, the semi-nomadic Borana people, who traditionally live from their livestock, have lost nearly all their cows and goats for a different reason: five consecutive years of drought.

To survive, many have decided to leave their rural land and live in refugee camps in cities.View image in fullscreenDidwardy, 16, Elguda Guyo, 56, and Tume Belisso, 30, live in a camp in the town of Dubuluk.

They now earn a salary from a wealthier farmer managing hay reserves in preparation for the next dry spell.“Many of the Borana people I met were suffering the loss of their traditional way of life and culture.

Their independence in work was directly tied to this way of life,” Migné says.Migné wants his work to bear witness to disappearing trades, jobs and cultures.

“The world is changing faster than ever before.

Photography enables [us] to leave a trace of what has been.”This has been a pressing task in Bangladesh, where Migné documented the lives of people working at the Lion Circus – the largest circus still travelling the country.

Once very popular, circuses now attract dwindling numbers of spectators and the tradition could soon disappear.View image in fullscreenView image in fullscreenLion Circus artists (from left) Beaty, Rosina, Tuntuni, Roni and Babul in Barguna, BangaldeshThe Lion Circus’s tight-knit troupe comprises several families, who live on the fringes of Bangladeshi society.

With up to three shows a day, the work is physically demanding.

The troupe lives in shacks made of corrugated iron at the back of the circus tent.

The children don’t go to school but are brought up collectively by the troupe and learn the circus acts from a young age.

Here, work, family and culture are colourfully and joyfully intertwined.“I love to show that beyond the daily hardship, there are family lives and strong social ties,” says Migné.

“In the west, as people increasingly work online, these strong bonds which for centuries have underpinned people’s working lives are being eroded.”The photos, he hopes, can be a reminder of what wealthier societies are losing.View image in fullscreenWorkers walk through the limestone quarry in Al-Minya, Egypt, with the machines used to cut the limestone..

This article first appeared/also appeared in theguardian.com