Dina/Nouf Al-Makhrami (2001)

Dina/Nouf Al-Makhrami, a 23-year-old artist from Oslo, Norway. Originally from a small town in Yemen named Jaar. She is currently pursuing a bachelor degree in fine arts at the Oslo National Academy of Arts Where she is focusing on analog photography, textile, and graphic design. For Dina, art has been. a way to explore, grow and establish her identity. Her work has given her a sense of pride and the courage to speak up and fight for what she believes in. Dina's art is a reflection of her experiences and passions, as she strives to create pieces that are both meaningful and visually striking.

My art practice:

Through my art practice, I focus on archiving the stories of the people around me, our memories, our histories, our ways of being. I do this because I know that people like us have always been at risk of being erased, rewritten, or shaped into something more acceptable for ‘Western eyes.’

Édouard Glissant’s idea of the ‘right to opacity’ speaks deeply to me. He believed that we don’t have to make ourselves completely understandable to others, especially to those who have historically tried to define us on their terms. My archive isn’t about proving our existence or translating our stories for the Western gaze. It’s about preserving them as they are, in all their depth and complexity. Some stories don’t need to be explained; they just need to be held and remembered.

Achille Mbembe talks about how archives are never neutral they are about power. Who gets to be remembered? Who gets left out? For too long, those decisions have been made for us. By creating this archive, I’m reclaiming that power. This is more than just collecting stories; it’s an act of survival, a way of resisting erasure. Mbembe speaks of ‘necropolitics,’ the power over who gets to live and who is left to disappear. I feel this deeply not just in a physical sense, but in how entire cultures and ways of being are made invisible.

That’s why this work is urgent. Archiving isn’t passive, it's an active refusal to be erased. It’s a way of holding onto who we are, beyond the pressures to conform or disappear. In my practice, I am not just documenting the past, I am protecting the future.