The boy is a close friend, an artist I met in Ghana about a year before I made this photo. The image perfectly captures our relationship at the time: the affection, the intimacy and the vulnerability. People who see this often ask: “Is that your boyfriend?” It’s a double standard. I’m not sure male photographers get asked that kind of question.

I’d been working a lot with my family, particularly my sisters, and was timid about making images of men’s bodies. I don’t think I was ready to navigate friendship and desire in the way this image does.



We met at a guesthouse in Accra, the capital of Ghana, and shot for over three hours. We talked, joked around and tried out different positions. It wasn’t organised with an end result in mind. We just tried to set up a comfortable environment so that something could emerge. There’s something off about the shot that I really like. Is he going to sleep or just waking up? Is this a body you desire? Is it the precursor to something more? There’s an ambiguity, which I hope makes people think.

More than anything, though, I love the tenderness, the way his hands fall on his belly like he’s protecting himself. There’s a nervousness that comes with letting yourself be vulnerable with someone else, let alone someone with a camera. Cropping off his head draws your attention to those other features. You stop asking, “Who is he?” and start looking at the way different parts of the body can communicate things.



Society puts immense pressure on people to look a certain way, to have a certain type of body. That has always been the case for women, but men are increasingly held up to these unattainable standards. Our bodies are such interesting conglomerations of things, I don’t think they should all have to fit the same mould.



I wanted to open up the idea of what can be desired. To the western eye, images of black men are usually hypersexualised or super intense. It’s rare to see one at rest, let alone one that seems so vulnerable. These bodies don’t often get featured in the major galleries or shows. But as a photographer, I don’t think I should just complain about that. I have the ability to make the images that I want to see in the world.

When you’re working with people in a state of undress, you have to realise how much you’re asking of them. They may have insecurities and quirks you can’t fully understand. Photographers haven’t always cared enough about that. I try to be sensitive, to explore how power dynamics change when it’s a woman behind the camera and a man in front of it. Throughout history, the male gaze has usually been about asserting power. I think about how to be fair, how I would feel if it was me. I hope my work is a starting point for people to think about bodies in different ways.

Mimi Cherono Ng’ok’s CV

Mimi Cherono Ng’ok. Photograph: Alfredo Esteban

Born: Nairobi, Kenya, 1983.

Studied: BFA (University of Cape Town, Michaelis School of Fine Art).

Influences: Rotimi Fani-Kayode, Felix Gonzalez-Torres, Rinko Kawauchi, the Muppet show, Michael Jackson.

High point: “Living and working as an artist.”

Low point: “Dealing with the shadiness of the art world.”

Top tip: “Read as much as you can.”