Abdul Hamid Kanu: Freeing Freetown From the Western Gaze

Contrary to its name, Freetown, Sierra Leone is hardly free in narrative—it’s no surprise considering that photography has long told stories about Africa, but rarely out of Africa. But Abdul Hamid Kanu is here to remedy that. In the 29-year-old’s work, this West African nation refuses to be treated as a symbol of war and violence any longer. His portraits and street scenes reject the ‘poverty porn’ that has long clouded western depictions of Africa, replacing stereotypes with truth.

His images are still, unforced, and organically cinematic, resulting in a body of work that resists the voyeurism of global media and, instead, builds an archive of belonging. In Kanu’s portfolio, Sierra Leoneans are not subjects of observation but collaborators in storytelling. There’s grace in the ordinary—a man standing over a foosball table in a crowded alley, a group of boys washing their faces at the beach before prayer, a woman embracing a bubu music player at a rally. Each image is both document and mirror, evidence of a culture that refuses erasure.

Photography, for Kanu, is highly personal. His mother worked in a photo studio, while his father, an engineer, had the spirit of an archivist. “Growing up around images and memories made me realise how powerful photography can be in preserving who we are and where we come from,” he reflects. That understanding grew bigger when he returned to Sierra Leone in 2020. Seeing Freetown anew, he began using his camera as both a tool of documentation and a form of resistance.

Grounded in place, his process always begins with connection. “I spend time with people, listen to their stories, and let those conversations guide the work,” he explains. “It’s not just about photographing a place; it’s about understanding its rhythm and spirit.” That sense of rhythm runs through his images. There’s no attempt to dramatise. Instead, Kanu uses photography to build a gallery of everyday life: a visual record of how people live, love, and carry on. “My goal is to create work that comes from within—honest, layered, and true to us,” he says.

When Kanu founded Muyu Journal, an independent platform dedicated to creative storytelling from Sierra Leone, he wanted to expand that ethos beyond photography. “I hope to see more platforms, ownership, and collaboration across the continent,” he shares. The first print issue, launching soon, will spotlight the artists, writers, and thinkers shaping local culture in real time. It’s Kanu’s way of weaving community into continuity, a living record of where Sierra Leonean art is currently at and where it’s going.

He’s also working on his first photobook, a visual meditation on memory and the everyday, to continue his exploration of how routines form a quiet language of resilience. His photographs, often shot in black and white, feel suspended in time. They echo the work of figures like Gordon Parks and James Barnor, pioneering artists who used the camera to humanise rather than define. “I’m constantly moved by how people live, interact, and find beauty in everyday situations,” Kanu continues. This curiosity gives his work an emotional clarity that’s both tender and political. His restraint feels radical and chic in an era of oversaturated storytelling. He lets images breathe and, in that stillness, emerges dignity. 

“I want to contribute to building an archive of contemporary Sierra Leonean life, a place where future generations find representation,” he adds. In his frame, Sierra Leone is not waiting to be discovered; it’s already complete. And through his lens, the story shifts. The western gaze loses its power, and something more truthful takes its place: a portrait of home captured from within.