A place for women, by women: that’s what Umoja, a village in Samburu County, northern Kenya, represents. It looks much like other tribal settlements or manyattas – with surrounding grasslands and huts, where communal living is the norm – except for one thing.

It’s void of men.

Umoja is the Kiswahili word for unity, and it’s evident that this concept is at the core of this community. Founded in 1990 as a sanctuary for women of Samburu escaping gender-based violence, Umoja is home to females of all ages. Men are prohibited from entry to create a safe space for girls and women who are survivors of sexual violence and abuse, ostracized by their families, as well as those escaping child marriage or female genital mutilation (FGM).

Ghanaian photographer Paul Ninson first found out about the Umoja women from a blog post and decided to go to Kenya to photograph this village in 2017, partly because, he said, he felt these stories “needed to be told from (an African) perspective.” With no prior contact with the women, he took the trip blind, knowing only the general location of the village.

The first few members of Umoja were from remote Samburu villages scattered across the Rift Valley. Exact numbers ebb and flow, but at its largest, this self-sustained village has been home to about 50 families made up of women and their children, and continues to educate its residents on women’s rights and gender-based violence. Any male children of the women are permitted to live in the village until they turn 18.

He says gaining access was very difficult, and he was only welcomed by the women after explaining the purpose behind his visit, adding that they were “very, very happy” when he showed them the pictures he took.

The lifestyle of those who live there is modest, with the women working to earn income for food and educational resources for the village’s children and some of the women themselves. Located about a kilometer away from Umoja is a campsite where many tourists stay when visiting the region to explore the famous Maasai Mara wildlife reserve. Tourists who wish to visit Umoja are charged a small entrance fee, and can buy elaborate beaded jewellery and other crafts handmade by the Samburu women.

“Community storytelling”

“Village with no men” is one of several photography series by Ninson, who said he aims to capture images that “raise awareness about social, environmental, or political issues and inspire people to take action, provoke thought and discussion about important topics.”

He decided to travel to other African countries to share “undertold or untold stories of people of the continent” – an element of what he calls “community storytelling.”

“We [Africa] have narrative problems; how we’ve been depicted over and over again,” Ninson said. This, he added, is a consequence of Africa’s stories being told by outsiders.

After expanding his portfolio with images he shot around Ghana, Kenya and Ethiopia, Ninson went to New York to study at the International Center of Photography in 2019, where he worked closely with a friend and mentor, Brandon Stanton, of the storytelling platform “Humans of New York.”

In an email to CNN, Stanton said he’s been inspired by Ninson’s talent and drive since the pair first met in Ghana in 2016, when Ninson shared his desire to become a professional photographer. While Ninson says he learned a lot from working with Stanton during that period, Stanton added that Ninson’s faith has been a strong example for him, describing him as his “spiritual advisor of sorts.”

Africa’s largest photography library

It was while exploring New York as a student that Ninson started accumulating photobooks written by and about Africans – books that Africans didn’t have access to back home, he said.

Ninson resolved to buy as many as possible to send to Ghana, keeping them in his apartment until he ran out of space and had to get a storage unit. Eventually, with the support of Stanton and the Humans of New York platform, he raised over $1 million to fund the first stage of the Dikan Center in Ghana’s capital of Accra – Africa’s largest photography library and visual education space, which opened in December 2022.

Stanton, who attended Dikan’s opening, said watching Ninson build the center was “surreal.”

“He has stepped into a leadership role so effortlessly and intuitively. So many people who meet him walk away feeling as if they have met a future leader of Ghana,” Stanton said, adding that “(Ninson) has been so successful in launching the Dikan Center that it is often overlooked that he is an elite photographer.”

Ninson said Dikan, which means “take the lead” in the Twi language, is a space that has already started to teach other storytellers on the continent through workshops and classes, offering free use of the vast library of photobooks, and putting on photo exhibitions.

His goal, Ninson said, is “to connect people with each other and with the world around them,” and plans to return to Umoja within the next year.

“I believe in the power of storytelling,” he added. “It has the power to bring people together and to help us see the world in new and unexpected ways.”

The exhibition was organised by NGO ForumZFD Serbia, which has also published a book of Cvetkovic’s photos called ‘My Bosnia’.

Slaven Raskovic, the exhibition organiser and editor of the book, said at the opening that in all the countries of the former Yugoslavia, the narratives about what happened have been over-simplified to a few incidents and locations.

“What I would emphasise as the special value of the ‘My Bosnia’ book is the fact that through Cvele’s photographs, we can really see some of the locations and events that are very unknown, or completely unknown, not only in Bosnia but in the whole of the former Yugoslavia,” Raskovic said.

With no prior contact with the women, Ninson took the trip blind, knowing only the general location of the village. He says gaining access was very difficult, and he was only welcomed by the women after explaining the purpose behind his visit, adding that they were “very, very happy” when he showed them the pictures he took.

Raised in the small Welsh seaside town of Barmouth, photographer Lewis Vorn often found his mind wandering. “Growing up in the middle of nowhere, my imagination was triggered by TV, music and magazines,” he says. “But also by having the space to walk around for hours day dreaming.” Immersing himself in such broad visual media, Lewis now cites various pop culture as being the primary influence to his work, from Scooby Doo to Britney Spears and horror movies.

This love of “silly, weird, colourful and chaotic” creative work has fuelled Lewis’ penchant for lightheartedness, both in his images and the way he works. He loves collaborating with people who want to make something fun, and experimenting with physical materials and props (see a Teletubby eating smiley faces below).

When it comes to the photographing, Lewis describes himself as “quite greedy”, shooting interchangeably on three cameras and always trying his utmost to get as many images as possible. This results in a “messy” and “scatty” process – with brilliant results. His trademark, layered images have a certain nostalgia about them, while still exuding a fresh, current and stylish feel.

Claudia Casado is a lifelong fan of Gimnasia y Esgrima La Plata, a football club in the city of La Plata in Argentina. Her daughter Mayra and her granddaughters, Katia and Mayte, are also fans of the club. They are pictured in Casado’s house in a poor neighbourhood, which is decked out in blue and white – the official colours of Gimnasia.

The fight for gender equality within sport really interests me. Clubs are generally considered to be dominated by men, but women have been occupying these spaces for many years, on and off the football field. Women’s football has grown over the past 10 years at a global level, but female players still face a struggle in terms of training, finding spaces to play, and earning a fair salary.

Female fans also do a tremendous amount of work that is only just starting to be recognised, in terms of maintaining stadiums, organising trips to matches, accompanying the team to different places, and carrying out work in the community – running soup kitchens, for example.

In Argentina, female football fans have a history of being sexualised. In the 1990s, the image of a female football fan was one of a woman with perfect curves. I wanted to show a real woman and how she lives with football in her daily life.

This photo represents what it is to be a fan of Gimnasia. I live in La Plata and for me, Gimnasia is family. Casado represents the neighbourhood and she is the head of a family with three generations of women who are football fans.

The photo is part of an exhibition, Cuerpas Reales, Hinchas Reales (Real Bodies, Real Fans), featuring photos by 78 female photographers from across Latin America. It is a celebration of female football fans and an empowering call for inclusion and diversity. As a collective, we want to show the different ways in which women enjoy and live their passion for football, while challenging gender stereotypes.

The exhibition has toured Argentina, Bolivia, Uruguay and Chile, and from 13-30 July is part of the 6th annual Latin American foto festival at the Bronx Documentary Center in New York. Erica Voget is an Argentinian photographer, follow her on Instagram