Noor Images has added Tanya Habjouqa and Robin Hammond to its roster as nominees, at a time when the Amsterdam-based photo collective is looking for new storytelling approaches to document contemporary global issues.
“We want to diversify in terms of what Noor stands for,” Noor member and vice-president Benedicte Kurzen tells TIME. “We want to maintain these entrenched core values, but are also ready to explore a new visual language and new approaches on different media platforms.”
While aware of the pushback against the agency model, Habjouqa, a half-Texan, half-Jordanian photographer based in East Jerusalem, says the boutique size of Noor offers the camaraderie she needs to thrive as a photographer. “I feel isolated in East Jerusalem,” she says. “I crave to be pushed, challenged. So while some may question the financial benefits of agencies, the infusion of ideas and frenzy to stay on my toes is priceless.”
Beyond the obvious geniality that a team offers, Habjouqa values the agency’s reputation for wrestling with the ugly parts of the human experience. “They do not shirk from the serious socio-political-environmental issues,” she says. “Partially punk, utterly human and politically driven, individualistic and innovative in thinking and telling. This is the work I aspire to and the kind of individuals I want to collaborate and build a platform with.”
For Kurzen, Habjouqa’s formal approach to photography veers away from traditional photojournalism. “We come from a visual culture that Tanya is pushing up against and questioning,” she says. “Her work, which takes time to conceive and is borderline conceptual, is refreshing to the Noor members.”
Hammond’s work, from portraits of survivors of homophobia to victims of mental illness, aligns more closely with the Noor vision, Kurzen says. “His career of course is very impressive and we feel that his work grapples with difficult issues that falls in line with our overall goals as documentarians.”
Hammond remembers Noor’s launch early in his career. “Ever since, I’ve admired the vision of the photographers and watched with interest the work they’ve produced,” he tells TIME. “They have always been examples to me of great photographers coming together.”
Chronicling the Struggles of LGBT People Around the World
Joseph Kawesi, 31
Uganda, March 2015
Joseph Kawesi, a transgender woman, sits at home in the Ugandan capital of Kampala with her mother Mai, 65.
Kawesi still has nightmares about the night in December 2012 when she says police officers dragged her out of her home after a tip-off that she might be gay. She says the officers beat her, and then raped her with a club. Kawesi is now an activist working to support LGBT people affected by HIV/AIDS in Uganda.
Uganda's president signed an Anti-Homosexuality Act into law in Feb. 2014, that broadened the criminalization of same-sex relationships, adding to colonial-era laws that already prohibited sodomy. The law was overturned on a technicality in August, but Parliament could pass a new anti-homosexuality bill this year.Robin HammondKasha Jacqueline Nabagesera, 34Uganda, March 2015
“We have a very long way to go in this struggle but I am glad that we are not just sitting back," says Kasha Jacqueline Nabagesera, 34, one of the early pioneers of the gay-rights struggle in Uganda.
In 2003, she founded Freedom and Roam Uganda, a gay-rights advocacy group; last December she published and distributed Bombastic, a free magazine focused on the personal stories of Uganda's gay men and women. Robin HammondHakim Semeebwr, 26Uganda, March 2015
Hakim Semeebwr, a transgender woman and sex worker in Kampala, Uganda, is also a drag queen and goes by the name Bad Black. She says: "Ugandans, they had something in their heads that gays are sick, cursed, abnormal and not African. Now that we are out, they can't deny we are Ugandan."Robin HammondIshmel (left) and Gabriel (right) (not their real names)
Nigeria, April 2014In December 2013 they say a vigilante group, suspecting them of being gay, took them from their homes in the northern state of Bauchi. Under Bauchi's Islamic Sharia law, the penalty for gay sex is death by stoning. Ishmel and Gabriel say they were deprived of food and light and beaten in prison. They were eventually acquitted of the crime because there were no witnesses (Shari'a requires four), but both say they were cast out of their homes for bringing shame on their families. Since January 2014 when then-President Goodluck Jonathan signed a law criminalizing same-sex relationships, arrests of gay people in Nigeria have multiplied. Robin HammondBuje (not his real name)
Nigeria, April 2014
Buje spent more than 40 days in prison after being taken from his home by a vigilante group aligned to the Bauchi City Shar'ia Courts in December 2013.
After guards beat him in prison with electric cables, Buje confessed to committing homosexual acts. They lashed him 15 times with a horsewhip as punishment. He says his family told him: “God should take your life away so that everyone will have peace because you have caused such shame to our family.” Since Nigeria’s president signed a harsh law criminalizing same-sex relationships in Jan. 2014, arrests of gay people have multiplied and advocates have been forced to go underground or seek asylum overseas.Robin HammondTiwonge Chimbalanga
Malawi, Nov. 2014
Transgender woman Tiwonge Chimbalanga married Steven Monjeza in 2009 but on Dec. 28 of that year they were arrested and charged with various offences relating to unnatural indecent practices between men. The magistrate sentenced them to 14 years imprisonment, saying it was to protect Malawian society from being “tempted to emulate this horrendous example.”
Because Malawi is a signatory to numerous human rights treaties, there was international outcry over the case. Amnesty International declared them both 'prisoners of conscience.' After five months in prison, on May 29 2010, then President Bingu wa Mutharika pardoned Chimbalanga and Monjeza, releasing them on the condition that they had no further contact with one another. Fearing for her safety, Chimbalanga fled to South Africa where she lives now. She is still struggling to find a job.
In July 2014, the Justice Minister announced that Malawi would review its anti-gay laws and no longer arrest people for homosexual activity, but it remains illegal. On April 17 2015, a new law came into force banning all same-sex marriages and unions.Robin HammondFlavirina Naze
South Africa, Nov. 2014
33-year-old Flavirina Naze, a transgender woman from Burundi, says she left her home country because she had suffered physical attacks because of her sexuality. In Burundi, the penalty for same-sex sexual activity is imprisonment for up to two years.
During a transgender conference in South Africa in 2009, Naze says an LGBT activist warned her that it might be dangerous to return to Burundi because persecution of the LGBT community was increasing as elections approached.
Fearing for her life, she decided to stay in South Africa, where she was granted asylum. When her asylum permit expired, she could not afford to renew it and is now in South Africa illegally, where she cannot get a job. She has become a sex worker in order to survive.Robin HammondDolores (left) and Naomi (right)
Yaoundé, Cameroon, Dec. 2014
Transgender women Dolores and Naomi say they were stopped at a police checkpoint after spending the evening at a club and taken to the station because they could not produce identification. They say police beat them severely every night for a week, until they were sent to provisional detention, where they remained for three months. Eventually they were found guilty of homosexuality and sentenced to five years in prison.
Human rights campaigner and lawyer Alice N’kom appealed the conviction and prosecutors dropped the case due to a lack of evidence. Dolores and Naomi were acquitted in January 2013 after 18 months in prison. “I was obliged to undertake any kind of activity to survive,” says Dolores. “Prison is the worst place I have ever been.”Robin HammondAmanda (not her real name)
South Africa, Nov. 2014
Amanda says she was traveling with a friend in 2007 when a man asked her if she dated girls and if she was a lesbian. When Amanda said yes, she says the man pulled out a gun, put it to her head and said: “I’m going to show you are a girl.” He told her to strip off her clothes and raped her. He ran away but Amanda went to the police station and the police managed to arrest him.
He was eventually found guilty and sentenced to 10 years behind bars. But Amanda, 28, still feels afraid. “I hope I will be okay one day because he got what he deserves."
Despite South Africa becoming the first country in the world to prohibit discrimination based on sexual orientation in 1993, homophobic sentiment and violence runs high. Robin HammondBoniwe Tyatyeka
Cape Town, South Africa, Nov. 2014
Boniwe Tyatyeka holds a framed photograph of her daughter Nontsikelelo (also called Ntsikie) who disappeared in September 2010. One year later, her decomposed body was found in a neighbor’s dustbin; she had been raped, beaten and strangled to death. According to Tyatyeka, the neighbor said he had done it to change her because she was a lesbian.
South Africa was the first country on the continent to legalize same-sex marriage and its constitution guarantees LGBT rights, but social stigma around homosexuality remains. “Nitsikie was a child with dreams,” Boniwe says. “Even now when I’m on the go, I am always looking out like I will hopefully see Ntsikie.”Robin HammondNisha Ayub
Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, Jan. 2015
Nisha Ayub, 35, is a transgender woman who was arrested and sentenced to three months in prison for cross-dressing, a practice illegal under Malaysia's Islamic law. She was imprisoned in the male section, where she says she was verbally and physically abused.
Despite having breast implants earlier that year, she says she was made to walk topless through the prison and the guards shaved off her long hair. "One of the worst things about being in prison is that you don't feel like you own your body anymore," she says.
Once released, Ayub discovered she had lost her job in a hotel so she became a hostess in a bar, where she had to perform sex acts for money. Eventually, she heard of an NGO in Kuala Lumpur helping transgender people and now she advocates for other transgender women in Malaysia.Robin HammondAbinaya Jayaraman
Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, Jan. 2015.
Abinaya Jayaraman always considered herself a boy until her late teens, when she started to learn about the transgender community. She was very scared to tell her strict family about her true identity but in June 2008, she finally told her mother but was rejected, she says.
Desperately lonely, Jayaraman attempted suicide in April 2009 with a cocktail of sleeping pills and painkillers. She says her mother didn’t visit her once during her three-month hospital stay. The family later disowned her and threw her out of the house. Uncomfortable with acting like a man at work, she eventually quit her job in corporate banking and turned to sex work to survive.
“I have no choice. I’m lonely, homeless and live in fear because I decided to be who I am. If I had the chance I would leave Malaysia and go somewhere where I can live and earn with dignity," she says. In Section 377 of Malaysia’s Penal Code, homosexual acts between men and women are criminalized and can amount to whipping and a 20-year prison sentence.Robin HammondO (right) and D (left)
St Petersburg, Russia, Nov. 2014
Lesbian couple O (27) and D (23) were holding hands and sharing a kiss on their way home after a jazz concert late at night on Oct. 19 when they say they were attacked. A stranger accused them of being lesbians, punching and kicking them repeatedly.
Although Russia decriminalized same-sex relationships between consenting adults in private in 1993, there are currently no laws prohibiting discrimination towards LGBT people. In June 2013 Russia introduced federal law criminalizing the distribution of LGBT “propaganda” among minors, which prompted international uproar.
“Now, in Russia, holding hands is dangerous for us,” says O. “But if the goal of these attackers was to separate us, they failed. They only made our relationship stronger.”Robin HammondMitch Yusmar
Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, Jan. 2015
47-year-old transgender man Mitch Yusmar is photographed at home in Malaysia with his partner of 17 years, Lalita Abdullah, and their adopted children Izzy and Daniya.
The Malaysian government retains a penal code criminalizing sodomy that dates back to the colonial era. It can include a 20-year-prison sentence and even corporal punishment. Yusmar’s relationship with his partner is not legally recognized and they live in fear that their family could be torn apart if something happened to Abdullah, who is the only legally recognized parent.
“The core of our being is our family,” he says. “It can become very frustrating that we need to work doubly hard to ensure that our basic rights are looked after. But we have hope that some day things will be better.”Robin HammondSally
Beirut, Lebanon, Feb. 2015.
Sally, a transgender woman, arrived in Lebanon last summer fleeing her home in Syria when one of her family members joined the Islamic State of Iraq and Greater Syria (ISIS). She says ISIS kidnapped, interrogated and likely killed her last partner.
“They are worse than the Syrian investigation services. ISIS consider gays as a contagious disease, so that’s why they kill them,” she says. Sally says many of her gay friends have been captured and stoned to death, shot or pushed from the roof of buildings, even when there is no proof (which is required under Islamic law).
Sally now has a short-term job in Beirut teaching literacy to survive and is waiting for resettlement. “I can never go back to Syria. If I went back, they would kill me," she says.Robin HammondKhalid Beirut Lebanon, Feb. 2015.
Khalid, 36, left his home in the Iraqi city of Baghdad after a great deal of persecution. He had been in a relationship for a year with another man when one day in 2013, his boyfriend’s older brother found them in bed together and informed both families.
In Iraq, same-sex relationships are legal but are considered taboo by the majority of the population and honor killings are common. “I was really afraid for my life,” says Khalid. He left home and went to rent a room in Baghdad’s red light district but in the second week of his stay, the landlord came into his room drunk and raped him.
Khalid moved into another area of the city but he started receiving death threats from a work colleague who belonged to an extreme religious sect. One night, the colleague propositioned Khalid and, when he refused, pulled out a gun and raped him. “After that I couldn’t look into the eyes of anyone at work,” he says.
Khalid then began a relationship with a doctor and moved in with him, but one night the doctor invited two friends round and the three men raped Khalid. He knew that violence against gay people was increasing, and that a religious group had killed two of his friends already.
Two Lebanese organizations, ‘Proud’ and ‘Secret Garden’ advised him to leave Iraq. He left at the end of January 2015 and came straight to Beirut, where he applied for refugee status and is awaiting resettlement. He says: “What we are facing is beyond what anyone could imagine, because reality is much worse than what I mentioned.”Robin HammondGad (not his real name)
Beirut, Lebanon, Feb. 2015
33-year-old Gad says he left the war-torn city of Homs, Syria in July 2014 because his neighborhood was bombed several times. He moved to Lebanon in search of a job to assist his parents. He found work at the hammam giving massages. (Gay men often go to hammams for sex)
In August 2014, police raided his place of work and took the staff and clients to the Hbeish, the morality police. He says they kicked, punched and beat them with water tubes, demanding names of other gay people.
The Lebanese penal code prohibits having sexual relations that ‘contradict the laws of nature’, punishable by up to a year in prison. A humanitarian organization provided them with lawyers and they were released after 28 days, but since Gad’s release, he hasn’t been able to find a job or a place to live. “They cancel our dignity just because we are gays.” Robin Hammond
The New Zealand photographer joined Noor to access a platform that will augment the voices of his subjects—those silenced by societies or social norms in which they must live. “On the website of Noor, a statement stands out: ‘Some things simply need to be seen,'” he says. “My work is about having them heard and having them seen.”
The two new members, who were represented by Panos Pictures, join NOOR’s team of 12 photographers: Nina Berman, Pep Bonet, Andrea Bruce, Alixandra Fazzina, Stanley Greene, Yuri Kozyrev, Benedicte Kurzen, Sebastian Liste, Kadir van Lohuizen, Jon Lowenstein, Asim Rafiqui and Francesco Zizola.
A young girl plays on the beach in the party dress she wore the night before at a wedding, at the Deir al-balah Refugee camp in Gaza.Tanya Habjouqa—NoorAysha, 30, has been a widow for three years since 11 years of marriage to Abu Layla, a fighter in Deraa. Here, she shows a tattoo on her shoulder that reads, “Why did you leave me when I needed you?” The tattoo relates to a dramatic quarrel the two young teens had when they were dating. Upon making up, they each tattooed the message as a reminder of how horrible it was being apart. She never imagined the tattoo would take on such poignant meaning years later.Tanya Habjouqa—NoorNadia, 25, lives with 17 displaced family members in a two-bedroom apartment. Above, hangs her mother-in-law’s lingerie, one of her only intimate items smuggled from Syria, which she offered to share with Nadia if her son returns from the front lines. Tanya Habjouqa—Noor"Kill me instead,” she screamed.
Fadia, 19, traces the cracks in her rented apartment as she describes death of her father. He was killed in his bed, returning home from his work exhausted, as a laborer. Shortly before morning prayers, the security forces entered his room and shot him, execution style, in the head. When her little brother screamed, the guns were turned on him. She screamed, “Kill me instead.” She now lives with her aunt in a crowded one-bedroom apartment occupied by 15 family members. They survive off of digging through trash containers to find bread to dry and sell to herders, earning a couple of dollars a day.Tanya Habjouqa—NoorView from Jordan's highway, just seven miles from the Syrian border.Tanya Habjouqa—NoorLayla, 13, and Sama, 15. Their mother, Um Muhammad, 39, says
Life is hard without her fighter husband. A mother of 6, Muhammad is struggling to secure the monthly rent while under constant pressure to marry off her daughters to Jordanian and Syrian suitors. Layla, right, was trampled upon in her sleep when an army unit stormed their house looking for their father before they fled to Jordan.Tanya Habjouqa—NoorLagos, Nigeria. Robin Hammond—NoorA goat-herding family in the Sheikh Mountains between Burao and Berbera, Somaliland. The family sells their goats to traders who take the animals to Burao Livestock Market where they are purchased for export to Saudi Arabia and other countries in the region. Sheikh Mountains, Somaliland. 06 October 2013.Robin Hammond—NoorZimbabwe’s first high-density suburb, Mbare, was established in 1907. It was originally called Harare Township, a name later used for the capital city itself. Robin Hammond—NoorAbdi Rahman Shukri Ali, 26, has lived in a locked tin shack for two years. He stays with his family in Dadaab in Eastern Kenya, the world’s largest refugee camp, where Somalis fleeing conflict and famine have sought safety. Dadaab Refugee Camp, Kenya. June, 2011. Robin Hammond—NoorO (right) and D (left)
St Petersburg, Russia, Nov. 2014
Lesbian couple O (27) and D (23) were holding hands and sharing a kiss on their way home after a jazz concert late at night on Oct. 19 when they say they were attacked. A stranger accused them of being lesbians, punching and kicking them repeatedly.
Although Russia decriminalized same-sex relationships between consenting adults in private in 1993, there are currently no laws prohibiting discrimination towards LGBT people. In June 2013 Russia introduced federal law criminalizing the distribution of LGBT “propaganda” among minors, which prompted international uproar.
“Now, in Russia, holding hands is dangerous for us,” says O. “But if the goal of these attackers was to separate us, they failed. They only made our relationship stronger.”Robin Hammond—Noor
