Hickamatu Leigh is an artist photographer, storyteller, and young feminist activist from Sierra Leone. Known for her impactful photography and filmmaking focussed on the lives and experiences of Sierra Leonean girls and women, her award-winning work includes honours from the Women Deliver Arts and Film Festival 2023, and the SDG Vanguard Award in 2024 from the UN Foundation.
Her film, Gboroka, which explores Female Genital Mutilation (FGM), has been selected for the African Film Festival in New York. Ahead of the screening, Leigh shares the inspiration behind the film and why African women’s stories are important.
Poda-Poda Stories: Let’s start with your journey with photography as your language. How did you choose photography as a medium, and what has that journey been like?
Hickmatu Leigh: I don’t think I chose photography,photography chose me.
For a long time, I lived in silence. Growing up, I began to realize how much our environment shapes who we become. In my community, we were taught that the things that happened to us especially as girls were normal. That to be quiet was to be respectful. That to question tradition or religion meant you were rebellious, ungrateful, or even sinful. But deep down, I kept asking: what about us? What about how we feel? What about our voices?
I was angry. I wanted to stand out. I wanted more.
After graduating with a degree in public health, I struggled to find work. I was home, idle, reflecting a lot and that’s when it hit me. I had always loved taking pictures. It brought me peace. It made me feel seen, like I was actually good at something. Friends and family would tell me, “You’re really good at this,” and for once, I decided to believe them.
Photography became my language during a time I couldn’t speak. I was in a dark place, feeling invisible and not enough. But through the lens, I began to reclaim my worth. I started to see the power of visual storytelling especially in a country where so many stories about women like me go untold.
Over time, photography transformed from a safe space into my purpose. It took me into rooms with UNICEF, WHO, Purposeful, winning awards and having international exhibitions. More importantly, it led me to myself. Through photography, I have healed. And now, as a new mother, it feels even more sacred. It’s how I speak to my child, my ancestors, and the world. It is how I remain visible, rooted, and free.
Poda-Poda: What is your creative process like as an artist working in visual storytelling?
Leigh: My creative process is deeply spiritual. It often begins with a feeling sometimes from a story I’ve lived, or heard, or imagined. It could be sparked by a conversation, a sound, or even a single image. But once the spark comes, I sit with it. I reflect. I pray. I ask myself: What truth are we trying to honor here?
I write. I dream. I talk to the people whose stories I want to tell. I let their energy guide me.
For me, visual storytelling isn’t just about aesthetics. It is about emotion, legacy, and truth. I let intuition lead the way. Whether I’m documenting girls’ voices or exploring the sacredness of womanhood, I always aim to show the beauty in the struggle. My images are often black and white because I want people to focus on the emotion, the texture and the story.
My photography is a conversation that speaks without shouting, one that honors identity, culture, and resilience. Through veils, masks, and raw portraiture, I try to reveal what has been hidden. My work is my voice. It is my resistance and my offering.
Poda-Poda: That’s a good segue into the next question, which is about your film, Gboroka. I love that your work focuses primarily on Sierra Leonean women and this movie tackles a very sensitive and complex topic in Sierra Leone. How were you able to handle that sensitivity and drive the discussion forward about FGM in your film?
Leigh: Gboroka is deeply personal. It is my story—our story.
In Sierra Leone, topics like FGM are often surrounded by silence and shame. But I know firsthand how powerful visual storytelling can be, and I knew this was a story that needed to be told. Not with blame, but with honesty. Not to condemn our culture, but to show all of it the beauty, the pain, the complexity.
As a team through AWATS (African Women and Their Stories), we approached it with a lot of care. We didn’t want to sensationalize the topic, we wanted to humanize. We centered the voices of women and girls. We listened. We felt. We allowed their truths to guide the narrative. Gboroka is a conversation starter. It’s powerful, it’s triggering, but it’s necessary.
The goal was never just to make a film, it was to open space. Space to feel. Space to talk. Space to imagine a different future for our daughters.
We have screened Gboroka in a few places so far and had two international film selections. Every time, it stirred something deep. We’ve now launched our impact campaign and are actively taking the film to schools and communities to continue the conversation and inspire change. That’s the power of art it reaches where words can’t always go.
A still from the film Gboroka, which explores FGM.
Poda-Poda: What was the writing process like when you were working on the film, especially from the perspective of merging the visual with narrative?
Leigh: When I was writing Gboroka, there were moments I genuinely felt afraid. I remember sharing the idea with my mom and my aunt and their response was, “This na society secret, dem nor dey pull am na doe.” That moment hit me hard. It reminded me just how deep and sacred this silence is. But it also fueled the urgency. There was a strong will in me to tell this story from my own perspective from the stories the women before me whispered, the things I had seen, felt, carried. I wanted it to be raw. I wanted it to be honest.
We wrote Gboroka from the heart. We didn’t sit down to create a script that explains everything. We sat in silence. We sat with the question of what it means when a girl can’t speak her truth, when she screams inwardly and is told to call it tradition. We didn’t want to preach. We wanted people to feel.
Because I’m a photographer first, I approached every scene like a still image. I visualized pain, hope, and resistance in motionless frames. And that’s why Gboroka has no dialogue intentionally. We wanted viewers to interpret it on their own terms, to confront their emotions, their discomfort, their memories. Every frame was deliberate carrying weight, grief, silence, but also beauty.
We wanted to show the richness of our culture, the rhythm, the colors, the rituals but also the parts we’re not allowed to talk about. The wounds hidden behind smiles. So Gboroka isn’t just a film. It’s a question. A mirror. And I’m proud we dared to make it.
Poda-Poda: What are you hoping will be the outcome of Gboroka when people watch it?
Leigh: I hope Gboroka lingers.
I hope it opens doors for conversations we’ve been too afraid to have. I hope it helps girls feel seen. I hope it challenges parents to reflect, and community leaders to protect. I hope decision-makers move from silence to action.
But above all, I hope it births empathy. Real change happens when people feel something deeply. Data doesn’t always shift hearts, but stories do. If Gboroka helps even one person see things differently, it has done its job.
Poda-Poda: Choosing a creative career in Sierra Leone, as you may know, is not an easy path to forge, especially as a woman. What has helped you in your journey, and what advice would you give to budding filmmakers?
Leigh: It hasn’t been easy. Some days, it still feels like I’m fighting just to be heard. But what keeps me grounded is my why.
I remind myself constantly of my purpose for the girl I once was who needed to see someone like me doing this work. I lean on my sisterhood, my partner, and my faith. And now, as a mother, I carry a new kind of fire. Everything I create now is also a message to my child. A reminder that their mother tried to shift something.
To young filmmakers, especially women in Sierra Leone: your voice is enough. You don’t need permission to create. Start small. Start honest. Build your tribe. Protect your vision, and don’t be afraid to feel deeply.
Storytelling is resistance. It is love. It is a way of remembering and a way of dreaming. The world needs your voice, don't be afraid to use it.
Gboroka will be screening at the New York African Film Festival in May.