I've always wondered when Nigeria experienced its "good old days"—that nostalgic cliche that older generations use to describe a time that was more perfect or, at least, better than the present. Of course, it's usually also a dig at the newer generations as responsible for the perceived current drop in standards and values.

In my review of Nigerian newspapers from the 1990s and 2000s, I found little evidence of these so-called good old days. There's always the occasional sparkle, but nothing any different from what currently happens today.

So I was pumped to find a set of newspapers in January that sent me as far back as 1948—which felt like a time when these mythical good old days existed. Sure, this was colonial Nigeria, three years after the end of the Second World War. Still, it was also likely a time of innocence, stronger community ties, and optimism for a future of social change and maybe even flying cars.

But what I ordered wasn't what I got once I started digging, but it reinforced something I've always suspected: history isn't just a snapshot of what the past looked like; history explains the present.

Let's Travel Back To 1948

If you follow Archivi.ng on Twitter and Instagram (you should), you know we're currently posting a series of complaints by Nigerians published in The Daily Service newspaper in 1948. More than anything, it's an examination of what the public discourse looked like at a time completely different from the present, but a lot of it felt familiar.

Women were a frequent target of public commentary, from the ones who rejected romantic proposals from older men to those working as clerical staff, in nursing, or just generally exercising personal freedom to do as they wished. But there were other things: racism, matrimonial issues, complaints about government neglect, and moral outrage over aso ebi, which is hilarious in hindsight.

Sharing these historical insights sparked conversations about Nigeria's past, attracting over 2,000 new followers and generating 3.5 million Twitter impressions. On Instagram, these posts reached more than 75,000 viewers, highlighting a growing interest in our archival work.

One key thing I took away from the experience: we're caught in a historical loop. Take away the British colonial leadership and the impressively refined writing of 1948, we're still largely dealing with the same social issues.

This realisation drives our work at Archivi.ng—documenting, analysing, and making history accessible to help us understand our present. It's also why we launched The Archivi.ng Fellowship: to uncover and preserve critical moments in Nigeria's history.

The Archivi.ng Fellowship Is In Motion

The Archivi.ng Fellowship officially kicked off in January, and I couldn't be more excited. Our fellows are already laying the foundations for their projects, and we'll start seeing them take shape over the next few weeks. I want you to follow closely on that journey, so expect fellowship updates with every dispatch until the end of the six-month programme when we launch the projects.

Our fellows are working on subjects that explore different aspects of Nigeria's history, highlighting the patterns, struggles, and triumphs that shape our present.

Aima is creating a documentary about Nigeria's recurring waves of migration, focusing on the 1980s brain drain and its parallels with the present-day Japa movement. Habiba will probe the literary and creative resistance during General Sani Abacha's military regime between 1993 and 1998. Oghosa's animated miniseries will make Nigeria's tragic civil war accessible and relatable to younger generations. Samuel will bring Nigerian history to life through the experiences of everyday people who lived through it. Shalom will tell the story behind the story of Black Orpheus, the oldest literary magazine in Nigerian history.

There's a lot to look forward to here. By exploring these stories, Nigerian history remains a living conversation rather than a forgotten past. I hope you're along for the ride.

Free Knowledge Africa

I mentioned in last month's dispatch that partnering with other institutions is one of our biggest driving forces this year to further advance our goal of being the source of knowledge about Nigerian history in mainstream consciousness. 

Following up on the recent partnerships with That New News in December and Loose Talk in January, we've concluded a new partnership with Free Knowledge Africa (FKA), a nonprofit initiative that seeks to promote free and open knowledge about the continent.

We're thrilled about this collaboration because our objectives align: advancing open access to historical and cultural knowledge in Nigeria. Those 1948 newspapers are courtesy of FKA's efforts, and there are more where they came from.

Partnerships like this are important to us, and we're working on many more of them, to keep our mission on track. Hook us up with opportunities that you think fit this direction.

We Need You, As Always

Our most important goal this year is to give power to the power user and build products that'll be supremely useful for everyone who needs them. But we can't build in a vacuum.

Over the past year, we've received specific requests and general comments about our work that have helped us to finetune where to invest energy and plug holes. But we need to hear even more from you. Your insights, challenges and suggestions will help shape the future of Archivi.ng and build a platform that truly serves your needs.

If you'd like to participate in our ongoing user research work, please take a moment to fill out this form.

The Archivist: The Women Issue

I spent most of January discovering that the same frustrations, hopes, and debates that filled newspapers in 1948 still shape our discourse 77 years later. 

Take women, for example. In the so-called "good old days," they faced scrutiny for their choices, from rejecting suitors to seeking careers. Today, the platforms have shifted—Twitter threads and podcasts instead of newspaper columns—but the talking points are the same: who women should be, what they should wear, and how they should exist.

This theme sits at the heart of the next issue of The Archivist. We'll be diving deep into the ways Nigerian women have shaped, resisted, and redefined their place in history—through culture, politics, and everyday life. 

As we navigate this quarter's issue, I'm particularly curious about the lessons we can extract from these recurring debates. More importantly, how can we ensure that history doesn't merely repeat itself, but evolves?

Look out for the stories that explore this curiosity in the third issue of The Archivist, starting this month.

See you on March 1.