Book Review: Unyọñ Ufọk by Emily Nkanga

Unyọñ Ufọk which means “going home” in Ibibio, is an intimate photobook by British-Nigerian photographer Emily Nkanga. Through the use of analogue photography, Nkanga reflects on grief, identity, and belonging, using her camera as a tool to freeze moments that might otherwise slip quietly into memory.

Sunrise in Ewet Housing, Uyo. January 2021

The project began with the passing of Nkanga’s father, drawing her back to her hometown in Akwa Ibom, Nigeria. What started off as a way to cope with her loss, Nkanga’s lens gradually shifted towards a broader exploration of her father’s legacy and his imprint on the local community. This organic evolution is evident in the photographs. What starts as mourning transforms into memory-making and, ultimately, into a tribute.

My grandfather, Elder Okon Udo Nkanga, in his room. February 2022

The use of analogue photography adds a tender layer of nostalgia to the work. The texture, light, and temporal softness of film evoke a shared sense of reflection, inviting viewers not just to witness Nkanga’s journey, but to consider their own associations with home and familial love. The sequencing of images subtly moves from ceremonial scenes of cultural burial rites to the quiet rituals of everyday rural life, offering a window into Akwa Ibom’s slower, more contemplative rhythms, far from the chaos of city living.

Uwem Sunday Hanson. February 2021

“I feel like I almost had a duty to [document] Akwa Ibom, from the inside, at least,” Nkanga notes. And it is precisely this insider’s gaze that renders Unyọñ Ufọk so affecting. Her photographs don’t exoticise, they remember, honour, and witness.

Boxers training. February 2021

In one poignant passage, Nkanga shares that she never had the chance to photograph her father before he passed. “Your dad dies only once,” she says. And yet, through this body of work, his presence lingers—embodied in the land, the people, and the quiet love woven through each frame. What began as a farewell becomes, in the end, a celebration: of her father’s life, of her own roots, and of a community’s quiet resilience.

Unyọñ Ufọk is available to purchase and stands as a powerful example of photography’s ability to hold space for memory, mourning, and meaning.