Emily Nkanga Wants to Build A Selfless World With Her Camera

Emily Nkanga’s love for photography began in secondary school. It was more of a hobby and even nearly got her expelled—but that didn’t deter her. While studying at the American University of Nigeria, Emily honed her craft by photographing budding artists on campus, setting the foundation for what was to come.

There’s a saying that opportunities come to those who are prepared. For Emily, this preparation led to an internship that introduced her to the world of celebrity photography, expanding her horizons and solidifying her ambitions. But she didn’t stop there. In 2021, she ventured into film, directing Dear Bassey, followed by Reaching for Gold (2023), a compelling documentary about boxers from her hometown, Akwa Ibom, and most recently, Yam and Egg, which premiered at AFRIFF to much acclaim.

Beyond her art, Emily is driven by a profound desire to make the world more compassionate. Even while based in London, she remains deeply connected to Nigeria, using her camera as a tool for social change and cultural preservation. Her approach transcends mere photography; it’s a mission to amplify voices and shed light on important narratives.

Culture Custodian spoke with Emily about her work, exploring the landscape of her artistic journey—its challenges and triumphs.

Your creative journey weaves photography and film. What drives you to use these formats to express your creativity?

I didn’t really like writing. As much as I wanted to, I found it quite difficult and daunting. Every time I would write a paper in class, we had a thing where our instructors would make us give a short presentation or they would ask you what your paper was about before the professor read it. And I always found that my professor would say he was looking forward to reading my paper. Then after he read it, he would say that what I said in class wasn’t what I had written in the paper. And I just realized there was a gap in my expression.

In the process of figuring out that gap, I found that photography and filmmaking were easier for me to express what I was saying. I like that open-ended feeling of people, I give them something and they can deduce or say different ways they feel about it. 

When you’re behind the lens capturing artists like Olamide, Joeboy, and Wizkid, how do you approach capturing their essence?

I do actual research: listening to their music a lot during the time leading up to photographing them, watching interviews, looking at old pictures that they have already out there.  So if I’m listening to a musician and I’m seeing their old pictures, I can tell the kind of image they have and the types they approve of, If there’s a gap between what is already out there and where they are right now, I try to see how I can fill that gap in their branding or representation. I read their tweets too, just every single piece of information I can find out there because it’s not every time you get the chance to talk to the talent before the shoot. I want people to see the real person and connect with them.  

Your commitment to social work appears deeply personal. What unspoken stories from your past or present compel you?

A lot of my documentary work has resulted from personal interactions. I don’t make money from documentaries, and for a long time, I didn’t look to make money from documentaries because I was doing other commercial stuff.  So for me, a lot of any documentary I’ve done is about social interactions that I have been touched by because I understand that holding the camera and whatever position I have been handed is a responsibility. Even when I do commercial work, I also realize I have that responsibility. Even with my recent documentary projects, the exhibition in Uyo, Uyon Ufok, which means going home in Ibibio, started from grief. When I started to document people around my dad’s burial, I did not know that I would have an exhibition down the line. I also did the documentary on the boxers which helped me find solace somewhat. 

Tell me about the challenges faced while putting together the Unyon Ufok exhibition in Akwa Ibom. What did you learn about your community or yourself during the process?

For myself, I learned that I can be quite resilient in terms of my end goal for something. I used to think that I was not mentally strong. I felt like if something didn’t go right, I would give up. But because that was my first one, there were times when I almost wanted to cancel it because certain things were not going right. I quickly found out that I was good at working with people and understanding the challenges people were facing because I had to manage different components.

Yam and Egg, which premiered at AFRIFF, explores the EndSARS movement. What personal experiences from that time motivated you to create the film?

A lot of people moved after ENDSARS, it was the catalyst for most of them. So it only made sense that for a contemporary film, we use a contemporary situation to be the catalyst for the adults moving. I’m most interested in the aftermath of cases like when I did the IDP Boko Haram project. I wanted to do that because I found out these people had been displaced from their houses. What was happening to them now?  What are we doing now? What is their quality of life now? How can we improve that? If we’re able to talk about the aftermath of things, it might inform people to make better decisions to stop things from happening next time or put in place better infrastructure to help people.

Your work often blends personal memories, cultural documentation, and social commentary. How do you balance them without becoming too preachy or losing the artistic essence?

I feel like you end up just having to be authentic to yourself and to the story. If I’m doing something like a comedy or popcorn film, that’s fine.  But if I’m doing something that has these elements that you have said, I end up having to rely on what is authentic to me, that’s the only thing I can defend. 

I don’t think my job really is to entertain people except I’m doing comedy or commercial work. I consume a lot of documentary work and I’m like what is authentic to me? There will be people that are like you in the world. I listen to a lot of feedback and I have certain people I share the film with before we get to the final cut.  I think my work is more to educate and to make people see the realities of things. 

If your entire body of work could whisper a single profound truth, what would that truth be?

That’s a serious question. Currently how I feel with my work is I want people to see different perspectives of people. I don’t like when people see things as black and white.

It’s about just having better human interaction. There’s a lot of selfishness in the world, and my work could change in the next five years if I feel like I’ve done quite a number of that. I see selfishness in different industries, down to personal interactions. People are always looking for someone to laugh at, someone to scam, someone to hurt. It’s sad because that’s how the world has always been, and I want to make it better in the way I can.