Documenting The Nuer: An Unexpected Story of Portraits, Refuge, and Cultural Legacy
A group of Nuer youth. Photograph: ©Steven Wade Adams, Ethiopia. 2016.
This story has been a long time in the making. My first encounter with the Nuer occurred during a visit to east Africa in 2016, where I had the unique opportunity to visit several traditional Nuer villages along the border between South Sudan and Ethiopia, near the city of Gambella.
Little did I know that the images I made during this visit would later hold profound significance for others with deep connections to this region.
This all resulted in a story of photography that became meaningful in ways that one would never expect.
Portraits of the Nuer People: An Unexpected Collaboration
The border between Ethiopia and South Sudan is fluid, with people moving across it to utilize their traditional pastoralist lands. At times these movements can lead to conflict and violent interactions amongst competing groups.
My colleagues and I camped in the oppressive heat near one Nuer village very close to the border in southern Ethiopia.
Young Nuer boys bathing near their village. Photograph: ©Steven Wade Adams, Ethiopia. 2016.
As we approached the village itself, we were greeted by a group of villagers who had been anxiously awaiting our arrival. They enthusiastically welcomed us with a traditional dance and a great deal of singing.
Eying our cameras, they were insistent that we get right to it and take everyone’s photos. I have always loved making portraits but was surprised by the profound interest they had in our picture making.
The mix of young and old had some pretty specific ideas as to how the interactions were going to play out. The first few clicks of the camera were met with squeals of delight each time they saw the images on the back of the camera. Soon, everyone wanted a turn. I should note that smart phones were virtually non-existent amongst these people at the time, so getting photos of themselves was still a rarity.
I felt a bit sad that I had no means to print or share the images, but this didn’t seem to really seem to matter to them. The joy of seeing their images on the back of the camera seemed sufficient and the experience was a delight for all of us. Even now, these portraits are some of my most beloved images.
Nuer women and girls grind grain for part of their traditional food staple. Photograph: ©Steven Wade Adams, Ethiopia. 2016.
Connections and Meaning Through Photography
While the initial interaction was certainly enjoyable, my connection with the Nuer people has deepened over the years. Several years later, my friend and colleague Carrie Hessler-Radelet asked if she might purchase a print of the photograph below depicting a young girl in a Nuer village at sunset. She intended to gift it to a couple she was very close to. All I knew was that the husband was born into the Nuer tribe and had left his ancestral home in South Sudan as a child.
Sunset at a Neur Village. Photograph: ©Steven Wade Adams, Ethiopia. 2016.
Childhood Origins in South Sudan
In 2023, I received a heartfelt text message from one of the recipients of the image. She introduced herself as Anna and shared in detail her husband Peter’s remarkable journey, explaining that the framed photograph now displayed in their dining room was the most meaningful art they owned. It served as a beautiful reminder of Peter's traditional childhood, which he experienced for far too short a time. She also wanted to know if there were more images of this encounter that she might be able to obtain.
When Peter was a teenager, he arrived alone in the United States as a refugee. He was one of approximately 3800 “Lost Boys of Sudan,” who escaped a harrowing past in a war-torn country, ultimately finding a safe haven in the United States.
Peter, like many others with him, did not know his exact age - as he had no birth certificate or medical records from his childhood. He was assigned an arbitrary birthdate of January 1 and an age based on his height. The Nuer are a very tall people. Being already at least six feet tall, he was assigned the arbitrary age of eighteen years. Still, anyone who saw his boyish smile - or even today if they see a photo of him at that time - would no doubt place him as more likely to be a very tall 13-15 year-old. A consequence of this older assigned age was that he wasn’t placed with a family or enrolled in high school as would normally have been the case for school age boys. Instead, he was set up to be housed with another male refugee.
This didnt discourage Peter and while he accepted hard labor jobs in a warehouse he was also determined to continue and improve his education. He read whenever he could and became a regular at the local Barnes and Noble bookstore, where he studied all the necessary subjects to prepare him to take the General Education Degree (GED), for high school diploma equivalency. All of Peter’s hard work paid off and he was accepted to the University of Florida (Go Gators!) before going on to earn multiple Masters degrees in international development, peace and conflict resolution, and U.S. foreign policy and national security.
The challenges that Peters endured and his gratitude for the opportunities afforded to him have left him with a keen interest to use his education for helping others. After becoming a U.S. citizen, he then served for several years as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Azerbaijan, China, and the Republic of Georgia.
Growing up in Refugee Camps
Going back to his place of origin in South Sudan, Peter was only 3 years old when he fled his village caught in the crossfire of war. His memories are difficult to recall, but he does remember someone grabbing his hand and pulling him away during an attack on his village. To this day he does not know whose hand it was but that likely saved his life. Miraculously, he ended up in a refugee camp across the border in Ethiopia. However, his life continued to be threatened as unrest followed him. As a result of war in Ethiopia, he was forced to flee yet again, eventually finding himself in yet another refugee camp in Kenya with scores of others attempting to escape the widespread violence across Sudan and Ethiopia. Peter remained in the Kenyan refugee camp from 1992-2001 until he had the fortune to be of the approximate 3,800 boys to be resettled to the United States.
Peter describes these early parts of his life as extremely difficult and there was often very little to eat. Yet, he also cherishes memories of traditional customs including singing and dancing with other Sudanese refugees who found some comfort by holding onto their shared identity and culture.
Peter is quick to acknowledge his intense gratitude and how incredibly proud and happy he is to be here and to be an American. “America gave me dignity,” he says, He knows first-hand what is good about the promise of America and has committed his life to giving back. His service in the Peace Corps and his career in international development reflect his dedication to helping others.
Life in a Nuer village is focused on the care of their cattle. Photograph: ©Steven Wade Adams, Ethiopia. 2016.
Selecting the Final Images to Represent Family Legacy
When I spoke with Anna Lena for the first time in 2023, I was so excited to learn of the family quest for cultural identity and how my images might help them in that journey.
Like most of the Lost Boys, Peter traveled across vast distances across international borders with no clothing or shoes. Accordingly, he has minimal physical reminders of his past African life, so the photographs I captured of the Nuer represent something intensely personal for him and his family.
After numerous calls and emails, we collaboratively selected a final series of four photographs for printing. These images resonated deeply with Peter, representing aspects of village life that he remembers from his childhood and both he and Anna are passionate about preserving his cultural origins as part of their family legacy.
Once the photos were printed and shipped to the East Coast, Anna Lena carefully framed and displayed them throughout their modest home. They are the most prominent photos on the walls, reminders of humble beginnings, depictions of traditional life, of joy, journey, and family. Their appreciation for these images is profound, and I feel truly honored by the emotional significance they hold for them.
Gratitude and Connection
Recently, in June of this year, Carrie paid a visit to the home of Peter, Anna Lena and their growing family. She was surprised and delighted to see my photographs being prominently displayed throughout the home.
She sent me a video clip that featured happy voices expressing their heartfelt gratitude for the images of a very traditional way of life I had made in the remote corner of the Ethiopian-South Sudan border so long ago.
This young Nuer woman and her son along the Nile in Southwest Ethiopia. Photograph: ©Steven Wade Adams, Ethiopia. 2016.
I have yet to meet Peter and Anna Lena or their family in person, but from the experience of working with them to deliver the final set of images, and through the various notes of gratitude I have received since, I have been able to appreciate in a small way perhaps why these images have such deep personal meaning to them and their family. I can’t help but feel that some of the joyous moments of human connection I was blessed to experience with these people back in 2016 was able to live on to be shared in a way that continues to unfold to this day.
I can only dream of making more photographs that connect to people in such a profoundly personal way, and the prospect of doing so inspires me to get out there and try.
Steven Wade Adams DVM, PhD
Humanitarian Photographer & Visual Storyteller