Documenting the Present for the Future - Shalom Tewobola

Whether tracing the complex mechanics behind Nigeria's shifting housing market or slowing down fast-moving internet discourse to find what is true, Shalom’s work serves as a living historical record, capturing the nuances of our present moment so that future generations know exactly what it felt like to live through it.

Tell us about yourself. How would you introduce yourself beyond your job title?

My name is Shalom Tewobola. I like to say I've been writing since I was born, because in many ways I have. Professionally, I'm a multidisciplinary storyteller who has worked across editorials, newsletters, podcasts, visual storytelling and PR, covering film, music, fashion, the creative economy, and internet culture. I currently work at Pulse as a Newsletter Lead and Editor.

Beyond my job title, I'm still a little girl who loves observing creative projects and writing about fun, interesting things. I'm endlessly curious about people and culture. I also love watching anime, although I haven't seen any this year because life has been incredibly busy.

Can you take us back to the beginning? What experiences shaped the person you are today?

I'd say it began with the books I was exposed to as a child. I read everything I could get my hands on, from Enid Blyton and Nancy Drew to John Grisham. I wasn't particularly selective; if there was a book around, I'd read it. I think that's why even today I instinctively return to the written word. The next thing that captured my attention was film. To this day, I can still recite scenes from movies I watched as a child. It's probably why of all the things I do, I enjoy film journalism most of all.

Was there a defining moment when you realized this was the path you wanted to pursue?

Not really. I studied Chemistry at university, and although I always joked that Chemistry was my side hustle while writing was my real job, I don't think I truly believed it. I never had a clear picture of what a writing career could look like. It wasn't until my NYSC year, when I got a job at Culture Custodian, that things started feeling possible. That was the first time I thought, "Okay, maybe I can actually build a career doing this."

There are still moments when I wonder if I should pursue a path that's more financially rewarding. But perhaps one day I'll find an intersection between chemistry and culture journalism. I like the idea that no knowledge is ever wasted.

What ideas, questions, or values consistently guide your work?

The question that guides almost everything I write is: How can I make other people see this subject the way I see it?

When I'm writing about something that fascinates me, it becomes my immediate object of affection. I want readers not only to understand it but to inherit some of that affection themselves. That's why I spend a lot of time thinking about language and openings that immediately pull people into a world. I recently wrote a profile of Dammy Twitch, and more than anything, I wanted the readers to see the director beyond his work. 

Honesty is another value that anchors my work. I try to be honest with myself and the subject I'm writing about. I think if you're not honest, your writing can become performative, and I think readers can always sense the difference.

What has been the most challenging period in your career, and what did it teach you?

I think it's right now, and I'm still learning. 

For the first time, I'm balancing being an editor with growing a product. I'm no longer only thinking about writing good stories; I'm also thinking about audience behaviour, structures, data, distribution, and what makes people engage with a piece of work. It's forced me to ask questions: What works? What doesn't? What patterns can I learn from? How do I communicate ideas more effectively? It's rigorous, sometimes overwhelming, but I genuinely enjoy it because I'm being stretched every day.

What project or piece of work are you most proud of, and why does it stand out to you?

I'd say a nonfiction essay I wrote that won an award in 2024. It was one of my earliest attempts at creative nonfiction, and I was trying to understand both myself and the idea of home on the page. The essay is called ‘A Molue Epiphany’ and was published in Isele. It marked a turning point for me. More than the award itself, it gave me permission to believe that I belonged in that space, like a sign from the universe. It was the first time I thought, "This is possible. Maybe there really isn't a limit to where writing can take me."

How do you think your work contributes to culture, society, or the conversations happening in Nigeria today?

I think one of the responsibilities of cultural journalism is documentation. There aren't enough people consistently documenting and interrogating the cultural conversations happening around us. Social media tells us what's trending, but it doesn't always tell us what's true, or why something matters.

A good example was the "Olodo uprising" conversation. Everyone quickly jumped on the bandwagon, but then I read a Substack essay by Adeseto arguing that there wasn't sufficient evidence to call it an anti-intellectual movement. I hadn't considered that perspective until I read his piece. That's the kind of work I try to contribute towards, slowing conversations down enough for people to think more critically about them.

What Misconceptions do People Often have about Your Profession or about You Personally?

People often think I'm just playing. Writing looks easy from the outside because people only see the finished article. What they don't see are the hours spent researching, reading, interviewing, fact-checking, restructuring paragraphs, and rewriting sentences. Sometimes an article that's under 1,000 words represents days of work. 

What are You Currently Reading, Watching, or thinking about that has Influenced Your Perspective Recently?

I'm currently reading A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens, and it's fascinating to see how much the English language has evolved while human nature has remained remarkably similar.

Lately, I've also become interested in anthropology. I'm fascinated by the question of why people behave the way they do and how culture shapes our everyday lives, beliefs, and habits. I find myself constantly observing people and asking, How did this become normal? Why do we tell ourselves these stories? 

That curiosity has started influencing my writing because it pushes me beyond simply describing events to examining the cultural and historical forces behind them.

When People Look back at Your Work Years from Now, what do You Hope they Remember about You?

I hope my work becomes something people can return to as historical records and research material. I love the idea that someone in the year 3000 could stumble across something I wrote and discover that a woman named Shalom Tewobola lived through this moment, documented it, and tried to make sense of it. I want my work to outlive me for generations to come. 

More than anything, I hope my work reminds people that whatever they're experiencing isn't entirely new. Someone before them wrestled with similar questions, survived them, and left behind words that say, "You're not alone."