In the midst of Sharjah International Book Fair’s dazzling halls — where glossy covers gleam under bright lights and new releases compete for attention — there is a corner that feels like stepping into another century. Here, a labyrinth of yellowed pages, faded photographs and precious newspapers forms a living archive of Arab history. This is the booth of the Arab Archive for Heritage Foundation, a family-run Egyptian treasure whose roots reach back 125 years.

The stall is managed today by Mohammed Sadeq, a soft-spoken guardian of memory whose profession began before he could even read. “My father used to take me with him to the market,” he recalls. “He would tie me to a lamp post so I wouldn’t run into the street.” What began as a safety precaution became the start of a lifelong devotion. By the age of seven, Sadeq was already working in the family trade — a trade his great-grandfather founded around 1900 near Al-Azhar Mosque, in the bustling early markets of Cairo.

His ancestors were known as Al-Warrāqeen — the paper collectors. They preserved everything printed: books, magazines, journals, photographs, and newspapers that captured the heartbeat of the Arab world across generations. Over time, the family business expanded, moving closer to the famous Soor Al-Azbakeya, Cairo’s legendary used-book market. There, Sadeq began shaping the shop into a sophisticated archival hub, cataloguing materials like a national institution.

At Sharjah Book Fair, his stall is a portal into the past. A 1969 issue of Al-Musawar documents the arson attack on Al-Aqsa Mosque. A 1970 cover celebrates a young Yasser Arafat, introduced as the leader of a revolution. One wall features newspapers announcing the death of Gamal Abdel Nasser, with mourning banners declaring “The Leader and the Hero Has Passed.” Another corner is dedicated to the history of the United Arab Emirates, showcasing rare documents from the nation’s earliest years.

For Sadeq, this is more than a business — it is a cultural duty. “When I read what Sheikh Sultan bin Muhammad Al Qasimi said in the 1970s about education and building Sharjah, I saw that everything came true,” he says. “Sharjah today is one of the most cultural places in the world.”

Despite the rise of digital archives and artificial intelligence, he remains firmly loyal to paper. “Technology doesn’t matter to me,” he insists. “If the world ever depends only on the internet, I’ll leave the job. But I know that won’t happen. Paper carries a soul.”

That soul is palpable at his booth. Each fragile page holds the echo of a decade — stories of independence, cinema, early Egyptian television, shifting sports culture, and the daily lives of people across the Middle East. For Sadeq, sorting through these relics is like living through centuries.

“I have gone through them all,” he says, smiling. “And I have lived a thousand years in one lifetime.”