“A community becomes confident when it is recognized by other communities”
Nubian elder, December 2008
The first old photograph of the Nubian community was shown to me just days after I arrived in Nairobi. Sitting in his family’s home located in Kibera on the outskirts of Nairobi, a Nubian elder handed an old, framed photograph to me and said, “These are my ancestors and you know, we have lived here in Kibera for over 100 years.” Over the next month, one family after another would share similar photographs, each triggering not only nostalgia for better times and a reverence for past generations but also a sense of disappointment in how the course of their community had changed so dramatically.
For decades the identity of the Nubian community in Kenya has been questioned and challenged. In many ways, history and the interpretation of this history by everyone involved has played a significant factor in influencing the status of the Nubian community in Kenya today. But as is often the case, if we are to understand today, it is essential to look to the past.
People in the Nubian community today look to their past to provide not only the evidence needed to secure their rightful place in the present and in the future, but they also look to their past as a way of holding on to that strong sense of community and identity that for any number of reasons is threatened with every passing year. For the older generation, the old photographs collected during this project construct a portrait of how they believe other Kenyans, as well as younger Nubians, should see this community in Kenya’s history. For the younger generation of Nubians, the old photographs construct a portrait of their community that reconfirms their right to belong to, be recognized by and fully participate and have equal rights in the country and on the land of their birth.
When the Nubian elder showed me that old photograph, he was taking the first step in constructing a visual history of his community that had not previously existed. His contribution was followed by the contributions of nearly 100 other Nubian families in Kibera. Individually, each of the old photos provides an important piece of information. Collectively, they expose a story of the past, and this defined how important it was to create a photographic essay that not only would document, record and expose the stories and struggles Nubians live with today but, more importantly, would also show who this community was in the decades leading up to and just following Kenyan independence and what this community contributed, which is a part of the Nubian story most people in Kenya do not know.
This project, along with the 350 old photos collected by a talented, thoughtful and inspiring group of Nubian youth in Kibera during this project, as well as my own work does not attempt to present an exhaustive or authoritative visual history of the Nubian community in Kenya. However, as a collection, it does present a portrait and a story—a family history of sorts—of this community that many Nubians and most people in Kenya have never seen before.
Now, 13 years have passed since this project was launched.
The Nubian community has had successes during this time, and it has set legal precedents that have paved the way for many other minority groups in Kenya (and Africa) to seek protection and justice. Yet, the Nubian community continues to be marginalized. The Nubian community, especially Nubian youth, have amplified its voice in Kenya yet Nubians still struggle to be fully heard. With the new redesign of this website (which now includes over 100 archival photos and will soon incorporate more essays and contributions from Nubians today) the importance of this project is more valuable now as it was then. This new and updated version of the original website aims not only to serve as a resource to educate the public about the history and challenges the Nubian community have faced in the past, but also to serve as a platform for Nubian voices and artists to contribute to as a way to discuss the present (and the future).
Time and again I am reminded of the strength photography possesses: as documentation, as evidence, as preservation, as expression. While a photograph, a written story, a sculpture or a painting regardless of its date of creation, are inherently open for interpretation and scrutiny, one thing cannot be denied: they all, in one capacity or another, provide a voice. Together, we hope this project will provide a new platform for Nubian voices and stories to seen, heard and acknowledged.