Knowledge for All: My Story of Starting a Publishing Company
By Ayo Adesina
You see, in Nigeria, there’s a saying: "When one person lifts up their hand, we all benefit." I grew up with this mantra, and it has guided my journey in ways I never thought possible. Today, I want to share my story of starting a publishing company—a venture born out of a desire to make knowledge accessible to everyone.
I remember vividly the first time I fell in love with reading. It was a hot afternoon in Ibadan, my hometown, and I stumbled upon my older brother’s dog-eared copy of Things Fall Apart. I was just a kid, maybe around ten or eleven, and that book opened my eyes to a world filled with rich stories, complex characters, and deep cultural roots. It felt like a treasure chest filled with wisdom, waiting to be explored. That day, I promised myself that one day, I would share stories like these with others.
Fast forward to my university days. A lot of my friends were struggling with academic materials. You know how it is—textbooks are expensive, and many students simply can’t afford them. I often found myself in discussions with classmates, lamenting how knowledge seemed to be locked away, accessible only to those who could pay. It didn’t sit right with me. I thought, “Why should anyone be denied knowledge just because they don’t have enough money?”
With that thought echoing in my mind, I decided to take action. After graduation, I gathered what little savings I had—around 50,000 Naira, which, in hindsight, was barely enough for a decent laptop. But I was determined. I had a vision of a publishing company that would cater to the needs of students and aspiring writers, focusing on local content that truly represented our voices. I called it Knowledge for All.
Starting a business in Nigeria is no small feat. From navigating the bureaucratic maze of registering a company to sourcing quality manuscripts, it felt like I was climbing Everest without gear. There were days I wanted to throw in the towel. I would sit at my small desk, staring blankly at a screen, feeling overwhelmed. But then I remembered my brother’s book. I thought of all the potential stories and knowledge that could be shared. That thought kept me going.
A big breakthrough came when I connected with local authors and educators. I organized workshops in my community to help budding writers understand the publishing process. The response was incredible! People showed up, eager to learn and share their experiences. I realized then that I wasn’t just building a business; I was creating a community. I felt the warmth of collaboration and support in every session, and it fueled my passion even more.
As our first manuscript went to print—an anthology of short stories by emerging Nigerian writers—I was filled with a mix of fear and excitement. What if no one bought it? What if I failed? But then again, what if I succeeded? I reminded myself that this was about more than just profit; it was about giving people a platform.
The launch day was a whirlwind. Friends, family, and even strangers filled the venue, laughter and chatter echoing around us. As I stood there, looking at our first published book, I felt a wave of pride wash over me. It was a tangible representation of my dream. I had taken that leap, and it was worth it.
Of course, things didn’t always go smoothly. There were nights spent tossing and turning, worrying about finances and distribution. I learned the hard way that not all printers are reliable, and sometimes, books would arrive late or not at all. But each challenge taught me something new. I learned to negotiate, to adapt, and to keep moving forward.
As we grew, we began to expand our catalog, including textbooks and self-help books tailored to the Nigerian educational system. I wanted to ensure that every student had access to materials that spoke to them, not just regurgitated information from foreign sources. I became a fierce advocate for local content, believing strongly that our stories, our culture, and our experiences mattered.
One particularly memorable moment was when a young girl named Adaeze reached out to us. She was a secondary school student who had struggled with English, feeling like it was a barrier to her education. After using one of our books, she wrote to tell us how it had changed her perspective. “I can understand now,” she said, “and I want to write my own stories.” I was moved to tears. It was moments like these that reminded me why I began this journey.
Now, looking back at the road I’ve traveled, I realize the importance of community, collaboration, and resilience. I’ve met countless individuals who have inspired me—writers, educators, and readers alike. Each conversation has taught me something invaluable about the power of knowledge.
As I continue to grow Knowledge for All, I often think about the future. What will it look like? I want to reach more people, support more authors, and create even more impactful content. My dream is to have a world where every child in Nigeria can pick up a book and see themselves reflected in its pages. A world where knowledge isn’t a privilege but a right.
So, to you reading this, I want to say: don’t be afraid to follow your passion. Whether it’s publishing, writing, or anything else, know that your dreams are valid. It’s okay to stumble and fall; what matters is that you rise again. Surround yourself with people who uplift you, seek out mentors, and never stop learning.
The journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step. Will you take that step today? What do you think? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments!