Nigeria: Journalist or Just a Blogger? Why That Question Misses the Point, By Joshua Olufemi

Nine years ago, we were on the verge of launching the NextGen Journalism programme. This initiative emerged from our examination of what mass communication students were being taught in the classroom, which revealed a significant gap that would hinder their competitiveness in the job market. To address this issue, we decided to refine the educational process. We gathered seven lecturers from different regions of the country who specialised in mass communication. They not only confirmed our observations but also helped us enhance our training modules, which were ultimately incorporated into the Campus Reporter App.

During our university tours to train campus journalism students, a few months after the design workshop with these lecturers, we visited a university in southeastern Nigeria. There, we trained students from the mass communication department and other disciplines who were members of the campus journalism union, focusing on investigative journalism, fact-checking, and data journalism. Partway through the session, the Head of the Department paused our training — not out of protest, but out of curiosity. She asked, “Why are you teaching them things that their lecturers don’t know? Do you want them to question what they are learning in class?” She went on to request that some veteran journalists and lecturers join us for the second day of training to create a balance between the practical concepts we were introducing and the curriculum.

When the lecturers observed our training methods and content, they requested that we extend similar training to them as well, noting a significant disconnect between classroom teachings and real-world professional practices.

These training sessions and additional mentoring efforts led to recommendations for incorporating Computer-Assisted Reporting into the Mass Communication curriculum, which were later approved by the National Universities Commission.

I provided the background above to present a case regarding online discussions about who qualifies as a journalist, what it takes to become one, and the distinctions between journalists, bloggers, and those I like referring to as infomediaries or infopreneurs. I decided to elaborate on my thoughts beyond the comment I made on a post by a colleague, which touched on what journalism in Nigeria should focus on, which really is going beyond just the questions of who is a journalist or what defines them.

One major argument that has been making the rounds is this: you can’t call yourself a journalist unless you’ve had some formal education, training, internship, or structured path that has prepared you. While I understand and even agree that training builds knowledge and understanding of principles, philosophies, and ethics that guide any profession, I believe the method of acquiring those principles, whether certification or otherwise, is not what defines one’s qualification. Especially in today’s world, it must be about output, about action, and most importantly, about the quality of what is produced.

In 2021, during Dataphyte’s university roadshow to several tertiary institutions aimed at enhancing journalism training by incorporating data journalism, we received feedback from many faculty members. They expressed that the concepts we were introducing were largely unfamiliar to them, except for the theoretical frameworks that supported them. For instance, some of the CAR (Computer-Assisted Reporting) trainers struggled with basic tools like spreadsheets for data entry and analysis. The tools we showcased were as challenging as giving bones to novices.

These experiences highlight a crucial truth: journalism is evolving, but our educational systems have not kept pace. It also raises significant questions about how we train journalists, who we include in the training, and what qualifies someone to be considered a journalist.

Moreover, if we consider the evolution of distance learning and continuing education. That was the first real attempt to “hack” formal education by enabling people who couldn’t access university classrooms or afford formal schooling to still learn. The latter concept dwelt on the opportunities for anyone to pick up new skills or deepen existing ones at any age or stage.

So, here the poser: If I go to a journalism school and after graduation I end up becoming a farmer and spend my life growing food, should I be called a journalist or a farmer? Now, consider someone who has been farming all their life. Maybe they’ve never stepped into a journalism classroom. But they start a media platform to educate others about farming, using podcasts, blogs, or video content. Their work is structured. They apply the journalistic essentials: the who, what, when, where, why, and how. So why shouldn’t they be called a journalist? Why dismiss them as “just a blogger”?

On the Ethics of Professional Comparison

Again, about the recurring statement “you can’t call yourself a doctor or a lawyer without going to medical or law school. So why should journalism be different?”; I believe that’s a flawed analogy.

This is because it confuses technical professions with behavioural and social disciplines. In law, you must be licensed to represent others, but you can represent yourself in court. In policing, you have state actors, but you also have citizen-police or neighborhood watch. These rely on shared knowledge of community rules.

While Law and medicine are grounded in defined, codified knowledge systems including diagnoses, legal precedents, biological imperatives; Journalism is grounded in human behaviour, observation, narrative, and context. It is behavioural science, not exact science.

Similarly, journalism has always had room for the witness, the chronicler, the concerned citizen. Yes, journalism has its methods. Yes, it has its ethics. But it also has its citizens. In the same way a person can represent themselves in court without being a lawyer, or a community member can act as a first responder without being police, a citizen can investigate, inform, and advocate without carrying the “journalist” title. Because journalism is not the preserve of the privileged. It is a practice, measured not by the institution that conferred your badge, but by the integrity of your output.

The Real Crisis is Not Identity, It’s Instruction

Before I delve deeper into legalistic or certification debates, I want to reflect on something more fundamental which I also mentioned in my comment to the colleague’s post: the quality of pedagogy, especially in a context like Nigeria.

When we launched the Campus Journalism Program I referenced above, one of the first things we noticed was that students from disciplines like the social sciences or humanities–outside of journalism–were often producing better quality content than students formally studying journalism.

Our conclusion? Journalism is inherently multidisciplinary. Limiting it only to those with diplomas or degrees in journalism is short-sighted. Instead, we should mainstream the principles and ethics of journalism across all academic disciplines, opening the door for anyone committed to the public interest mission of journalism–be it informing, educating, entertaining, or holding power accountable.

This further propelled us to expand our journalism experimentation into agriculture, health, extractive, security and environment. We called it “the five fingers.” What we found was clear: professionals, whether from health, agriculture, or the environment. could learn the ethics and tools of journalism and practice it meaningfully.

Just as we were going about this, Aproko Doctor, a medical doctor, took to the airwaves and started using behaviour change techniques to educate citizens about their wellbeing and health-related lifestyle decisions. Today, that initiative has morphed into a healthtech company that provides information on wellness, lifestyle, and medicine using AI. Call him what you will, but his work sits well within the development and interpretative journalism genre.

Henry Jenkins’ Convergence Culture provides a valuable perspective on the changing landscape of journalism, where traditional media merges with digital platforms, creating a participatory culture. Audiences transition from mere consumers to content creators, challenging the traditional gatekeeping roles in media and placing more value on the quality and impact of journalism rather than formal credentials. In this evolving environment, the definition of a journalist is increasingly fluid.

In the context of AI, IoTs, and wearable technologies, Jenkins’ submission becomes even more relevant. These tools enable individuals to gather and share information in real time, further democratizing journalism. The focus shifts from formal training to engaging audiences and fostering informed communities. Jenkins highlights that this participatory culture allows diverse voices to contribute to public discourse, encouraging a reevaluation of journalism that prioritises practice and impact over traditional qualifications.

A Final Word: Reimagining the Future

Let us be clear: journalism is under siege. Not from bloggers or infopreneurs, but from irrelevance, poor pedagogy, and ethical drift. To protect journalism, we must stop asking who has the badge and start asking who is doing the work and what does it take to accentuate its forms, frames and functions.

The future demands new journalism! One that is inclusive, interdisciplinary, intelligent, and intuitive. One that welcomes the nurse who podcasted her way through the pandemic, the lawyer who fact-checks electoral misinformation on X, and the farmer who documents the crisis of food security with stories, charts, and interviews. If they honour the truth, if they hold power to account, if they serve the public, they are journalists.

It is time to retire the old gatekeeping models. Not because we no longer need standards, but because we need higher ones. Standards that transcend degrees and titles and ask instead: What truth are you serving?

In a century when storytelling tools have changed, the information war is fought in megabytes and memes, and audiences are fragmented and cynical, we cannot afford pedagogies stuck in time.

The journalist of today must be part data analyst, part psychologist, part anthropologist, part engineer of truth. And this evolution cannot be confined to those holding legacy credentials. It must be open-source, collaborative and dynamic.

Because in the end, journalism is not a degree. It is a discipline. Not a title, but a temperament. More so, journalism is not a profession you enter. It’s a principle you live by.

Joshua Olufemi is the founder of Dataphyte and Goloka Analytics. He is passionate and committed to media innovation, management and revenue sustainability in Africa

By Premium Times.