Visule did not wait to be solicited. To collaborate with sitters he approaches them. He lingers with them. His camera often not visible. People would have to wait for him to share that he was a photographer. For most of our time together that morning in Arderne Gardens, Visule carried his cameras inside his bag. I had asked to observe him photograph and join a visit he would make to the Garden.

The most outstanding characteristic of Yasmine Hatimi’s photography is its compelling sense of place. Her work highlights Moroccan communities in a manner that is realist and unadorned yet full of tender experiments: shades, gazes, stark architecture. Leaping beyond her previous projects on Moroccan masculinity and culture, her new portfolio of images offers a unique interiority. 

Kanu’s photographic practice asks: to what end do we make these pictures? The photographer’s proximity to the Temne, as one of them himself, is a powerful corrective gesture. It shifts the project from anthropological claims to collaborative memory-making. A photograph could be, in part, a gift.

There are no people in Lidudumalingani’s images, but there are ghosts everywhere. The dead haunt suburban sidewalks, highways, city parks, rivers, bridges, dams, illegal dumpsites, hotel rooms, all where human lives collide. Sites of Mourning is primarily shot in Johannesburg and follows the trail of South African newspaper reports.

A small town in Anambra State, southeastern Nigeria, Neni is a neighbouring community to Adazi-Ani, where Amarachi Nnoli’s photography project Anwuli: An Invitation to Joy is staged. For the project, Nnoli moves from home to home, her mobile studio in tow, making portraits of those who have consented to pose.

The typical photograph in this series shows a person in the middle of an activity. Those activities, as Thero Makepe explains, are often re-enactments of his family’s past. We can assume correctly that these pictured individuals are members of his family. They perform a version of themselves, at his bidding, for the camera.

Fibi Afloe’s photographs were taken in a compound house where her family and other families lived for 70 years. Hers is the third generation of occupants in the same locale. Her experience is not as common in this century as it was in the previous one, when it was wholly possible to live all your life in the house you were born.