It’s Time to Stop Waiting for Permission

A conversation with Khadija Farah.

Khadija Farah is a travel and documentary photographer from Nairobi, Kenya. From climate change to women’s issues, she is passionate about stories that provide a ‘light bulb moment’ or challenge public discourse on a subject. Her work has appeared in TIME Magazine, The New York Times, The New Yorker, The Washington Post, ESPN, and more. Khadija participated in the first Women Photograph mentorship program in 2017 and is part of the 2020 Lit List by Authority Collective, Women Photograph, Diversify Photo, and World Press Photo's African Photojournalism Database. To find more information about Khadija and her work, check out her website here.

TC – What motivated you to pursue a career in photography? What do you find unique and fascinating about your work?

KF – I was always the one taking pictures on my family vacations. In fact, I’m not in a lot of family pictures because I always insisted on taking them. Before turning to photography, I was a social worker in a refugee camp in northern Kenya and would get frustrated when certain journalists would try to capture someone’s entire story after some brief interactions.

I got the opportunity to start posting some of my photos and stories from the camp on social media and the positive reaction spurred a deeper interest in the industry. I was reluctant at first to become a freelancer and lose my safety net, but I eventually quit my job and became a full-time photographer.

TC – As a woman in a male-dominated field, what are some of the biggest challenges you have faced as a photographer? How have you overcome them? 

KF – Perception is at the top of the list. I can show up for a shoot and people will not be expecting me or someone who looks like me. This means that I get questions like “why are you doing this?” or “does your husband allow you to do this?” It means I get treated more delicately than my male counterparts and without notice, can be denied access to a shoot by the chief of the village, just hours after the male journalist writing the story was given full access.

To draw less attention and to avoid other unnecessary questions, some female colleagues and I have started wearing wedding rings. Weirdly, this has helped shift some of that perception and even garnered some respect from the aunties.

Safety is another concern. I often go to places and do not know whom I’m meeting or my way around the village. This is not something editors typically consider when we’re sent out to a shoot. We’re generally left to rely on the goodwill of people and simply hope that nothing bad will happen. We’ve started sharing our live location, though that only partially minimizes our concerns.

However, I do get invited into some spaces that men wouldn’t get invited into. Women, and also children, tend to feel more comfortable with someone like me than my male counterparts. This helps foster a more welcoming space and allows people to be more forthcoming with their stories, ultimately leading to more powerful pictures.

TC – Have you noticed any recent changes in the industry? Is it headed in the right direction?

KF – In a way, it is, in part because organizations like Women Photograph are advocating for women to be hired and offering women opportunities through grants. I do see more of us entering the field and more of us succeeding and taking chances.

However, we’re certainly not where we should be. Certain agencies will still tell me they aren’t hiring, though just a few weeks later, I see new people were hired. As women photographers, we understand that hiring a man might be less of a liability, but it’s a tiring experience. We make great work – but we’re always left to wonder whether we’re good enough. In our world, the work can’t just speak for itself. We are forced to justify our worth and told to reach the highest level simply to achieve some sort of recognition. It’s quite frustrating when we know this is not standard practice across the industry.

TC – Do you think a gendered perspective is important, both within the practice of photography and within the community of practitioners? How so?

KF – Absolutely. I believe it’s especially important for people who are hiring photographers or new employees to have a gendered perspective. When editors are thinking about whom to send out to tell a story, they must be mindful of the context. For instance, if the story is about survivors of gender-based violence, the solution shouldn’t be to just send out anyone available, but someone who can gain their trust and be able to share their honest, unbiased story.

This is a big reason why more women are getting job as photographers nowadays. People are becoming more sensitive about whom they’re sending out to cover a piece. The truth is, many of our stories involve trauma, and the quality of photographs and the intimacy will be different depending on who is tasked with capturing the moment.

TC – We work with leaders from different backgrounds – as a documenter of moments, what do you think leaders can learn from a photographer like yourself? 

KF – The importance of hiring local talent. It might sound very basic, but cultivating local leadership and local talent within your organization is key to success. As locals, we know the place, the people, and the culture, and that is important in photography and every other industry.

We saw this during the Covid-19 pandemic when employers could not fly in international photographers to do the work, so they hired locals like me and other local photographers. This gave us opportunities to tell stories to a wider audience and allowed the world to see photographs captured from a unique and often overlooked perspective.

TC – If you could go back in time and give your younger self one piece of advice about pursuing a career in photography, what would it be?

KF - I would tell my younger self to stop asking for permission and to stop waiting for permission to be given. I knew from when I was very little that if I could do photography, I would. As a child, I would admire the work of Kenyan photojournalist Mohamed Amin and felt incredibly impacted by his work, even though I didn’t fully understand why. What I did know is that I wanted to make people feel and care about something – and that photography was the way to do it.

For the longest time, I wondered whether I would be allowed to do this kind of work – or if I could even do it. I was a very good kid and did what was expected of me. The fear of embarrassing my family or ruining the family ultimately put my dreams on hold. 

Today, the answer is simple: stop waiting for permission and take up the space.

TC – Can you share one photo that continues to resonate with you today? 

KF – This image is special to me because it was the first time that I was trusted to do a multiple-page spread on an issue I care about – climate change and climate migration – and for a publication I admired. It features Veronica Parkolwa and her son, Festus, in front of their former home which is now submerged underwater due to rising lake levels. I love how strong and defiant they look in the face of great adversity. The photo was also incredibly difficult and fun to shoot – it's not every day that I get to wade in knee-deep, crocodile-infested water for a photo!

Interview by Cristina Rue - 03/2023.

Lake Baringo, Kenya- Nov. 17, 2020. Festus and Veronica Parkolwa stand at the entrance of their former home. Copyright Khadija Farah, all rights reserved.