September 8 is International Literacy Day. Yet I suspect that many South Africans will go through the day without even knowing that it exists. That, in itself, is disheartening. What is even more troubling, however, is that we are confronting a literacy crisis of profound proportions while failing to create the kind of national conversation that such a crisis demands. International research has repeatedly painted a disturbing picture of the state of literacy and numeracy in South Africa. Our children are struggling not merely to excel at reading, but to acquire the most fundamental skill of all: understanding what they read. Findings that many Grade 3 learners cannot read for meaning, while Grade 5 learners perform at levels expected of considerably younger pupils, should have triggered something approaching a national emergency.
But this is not an indictment of the education system alone. It is also an indictment of us as parents and as a society. We cannot continue to point fingers at schools and teachers while ignoring the culture that our children encounter at home and in their communities. We have to ask ourselves a difficult question: what kind of reading culture are we creating for the next generation?
We live in homes full of things, but not necessarily books
Many of us live in increasingly comfortable homes. We invest in expensive furniture, large television screens, sophisticated entertainment systems, smartphones and other consumer goods. Yet, walk into many of those homes and you will find bookshelves that are smaller than the television screen — if there is a bookshelf at all. More troubling still, our children rarely see us reading books simply because we enjoy reading. They see us scrolling through our phones, watching television, consuming social-media content and spending hours online, but how often do they see us sitting quietly with a novel, biography, history book, collection of poetry or newspaper?
Children learn by imitation. They absorb the habits of the adults around them long before they fully understand the instructions we give them. If we want our children to develop a love of reading, we cannot simply tell them that reading is important. We have to demonstrate that importance through our own behaviour. A child who regularly sees a parent reading for pleasure is likely to understand that books are not merely school requirements but a normal and enjoyable part of life.
There is also a historical dimension to our problem. Many of us were raised in an education system that conditioned us to read because we had to pass an examination. The prescribed book was something to be conquered, analysed and reproduced in an examination answer. Reading for pleasure was not necessarily encouraged as an essential part of personal development. We were taught to read for the examination rather than to read because a story moved us, because an author challenged our thinking, because we wanted to travel into another world or because we simply enjoyed the beauty of language.
My lesson from a publishing workshop in Tzaneen
Almost three decades ago, I encountered a powerful illustration of the relationship between reading culture and the publishing industry. I had been invited to Tzaneen by writer and publisher Vonani Bila to speak at a Timbila Publishing workshop. At the time, I was the Publishing Director of Heinemann Publishers. Before I took the podium, several authors had expressed frustration about publishers being unwilling to publish their creative work. The argument was that publishers were simply unwilling to take risks on African writers and creative literature because the trade market was constrained.
I decided to begin my presentation with a simple exercise. I asked the packed hall how many people had bought a music CD during the preceding month. A few hands went up. I then asked how many had bought one during the previous two months, and more hands went up. When I extended the period to six months, almost the entire hall raised their hands.
I then changed the question. I asked how many of them had bought a book for pleasure reading during the previous six months. To my surprise, fewer than 20 people raised their hands. The contrast was striking. Here was a gathering of writers and aspiring writers discussing the difficulties of getting their books published, yet very few of them were themselves buying books for pleasure.
I told the authors that they had, in part, identified the reason publishers were cautious about publishing for the trade market. If authors were not buying one another’s books, how could they expect the broader public to develop a sustainable culture of book buying? The publishing industry cannot exist independently of its readership. Writers need readers, publishers need readers, and a vibrant literary culture requires people who are willing not only to write books but also to buy and read them.
I also emphasised a principle that I continue to believe today: an author must first become a voracious reader before becoming a prolific writer. Writing does not happen in a vacuum. Writers develop their craft through exposure to language, ideas, different literary traditions, different perspectives and the work of other writers. A society that does not read will inevitably struggle to sustain a strong literary culture.
The economics of a nation that does not read
Today, I am involved in independent publishing through Brandhill Africa, and my experience is that the market is arguably even more difficult than it was when I was in commercial publishing. The publishing industry has had to embrace models such as print-on-demand partly because traditional large print runs carry enormous financial risks. Publishers cannot afford to print thousands of copies that may remain in warehouses for years without finding buyers.
Consider how sobering this is: a conventional profit-and-loss calculation for a book project targeting the South African trade market can be based on selling approximately 3,000 copies over five years. In a country of more than 60 million people, that is a remarkably small market for a book intended for general consumption. Of course, not every book is expected to become a bestseller, and different genres have different audiences. Nevertheless, the broader point is difficult to escape: we have not built a sufficiently large culture of book consumption to sustain the kind of publishing ecosystem that our population and intellectual resources should support.
This is not simply a problem for publishers. It is a cultural problem. It affects writers, booksellers, libraries, schools and ultimately the intellectual life of the country. A weak reading culture limits the market for books, and a weak market makes publishers more cautious. Publishers then print fewer books, take fewer risks on emerging writers and increasingly rely on lower-risk publishing models. The cycle reinforces itself.
South Africa’s peculiar problem of aliteracy
In advanced economies, the conversation often distinguishes between literacy and aliteracy. Literacy refers to the ability to read and write, while aliteracy describes people who possess the ability to read but choose not to read. South Africa appears to have developed an especially troubling version of this phenomenon: people who are technically literate but have little interest in reading.
This distinction is important because simply teaching someone how to decode words is not enough. We must cultivate the desire to read. A child may be able to pronounce every word on a page and still fail to understand, enjoy or engage with what they are reading. Similarly, an adult may be fully literate but rarely open a book after leaving school. The challenge, therefore, is not only to create literate citizens but to create a society of active readers.
The consequences extend beyond academic performance. People who read widely are exposed to different ideas, histories, cultures and perspectives. Reading strengthens comprehension, imagination, vocabulary and critical thinking. These are not merely educational competencies; they are essential capabilities for participating meaningfully in a democracy and navigating an increasingly complex world.
I have seen what a reading campaign can achieve
I was reminded of the possibilities of developing a reading culture in the late 1990s when I visited the United Kingdom. At the time, there was considerable emphasis on “developing new audiences” — deliberately seeking people who were not traditionally consuming cultural products. The objective was not confined to finding new readers. It extended to developing audiences for theatre, music concerts and other forms of cultural expression.
What struck me most was something very ordinary. I saw commuters on trains reading books. They were not necessarily academics or literary professionals. They were ordinary people travelling to work and using the journey to read. Reading was part of everyday life.
When I returned to South Africa, I was convinced that we needed to think creatively about how to develop new readers. I subsequently worked with colleagues at Heinemann Publishers to incorporate this philosophy into the launch of a new literary series, the Mamela Afrika Series. The series was conceived as an African-language equivalent of the internationally renowned African Writers Series and sought to make African literature available to readers in African languages.
Together with our marketing manager, Uncle Frank Horley, we managed to bring Metrorail into the initiative. Metrorail purchased 10,000 copies of books from the series, which were distributed as complimentary reading material to commuters travelling between Johannesburg and Pretoria. The name of the series itself resonated beautifully with the context of the project: Mamela Afrika, “Listen, Africa”. Here were thousands of people travelling daily between two major cities, and we were putting books directly into their hands.
The lesson from that experience remains relevant. If we want people to read, we must take books to where people are. We cannot always expect people who have not developed a reading habit to walk into a bookshop or library looking for something to read. Sometimes the book has to find the reader.
We need to make reading sexy
South Africa needs a mass mobilisation for reading. We need to move beyond occasional campaigns around literacy and create a sustained national culture in which reading is visible, valued and celebrated. Reading should not be presented to young people as another chore imposed on them by adults. We have to make reading desirable, social and aspirational. In simple terms, we have to make reading sexy.
Imagine a national reading mobilisation in which schools, libraries, churches, community organisations, businesses, broadcasters, celebrities, authors, publishers, booksellers and parents all participate. Imagine musicians talking about the books they are reading, sports personalities recommending books to young people, radio presenters discussing new titles and public figures being seen reading rather than simply talking about the importance of education.
Imagine commuters being given books on trains and buses. Imagine every school having regular opportunities for parents, professionals, artists, writers and community leaders to enter classrooms simply to read to children. Imagine children seeing their parents reading every evening at home. These may sound like small interventions, but cultures are built through repeated behaviour.
Parents, this one is also on us
As parents, we cannot outsource this crisis entirely to teachers. Teachers have an enormous responsibility, and we must support and resource them properly. But no teacher can single-handedly create a reading culture in a child who returns every afternoon to a home in which nobody reads.
Parents must create homes where books are normal. We must read to our children, tell stories, take them to libraries and bookshops, buy books, give books as gifts and discuss what we are reading. We should encourage children to choose books that interest them rather than making every reading experience feel like another school assignment.
Most importantly, we must let our children see us reading. We cannot demand that a child develops a habit that they never see practised by the adults they admire. The bookshelf in our home should be as much a statement of our values as the television mounted on the wall.
My International Literacy Day commitment
For the second consecutive year, I have been invited to my local primary school in Henley on Klip to read books to a class. I am delighted to accept the invitation because I believe that these seemingly modest interventions can make a difference. A child may forget many of the things adults tell them, but they may remember the adult who came into their classroom and opened a book for them.
This year, however, I would like to turn my personal commitment into a national challenge. On International Literacy Day, I call on every author in South Africa to commit some of their time to reading to children. Go into a classroom. Read at a church. Read in a community hall, library or youth centre. Or simply go home and read to your own children.
Do not give them a lecture about the importance of reading. Read to them. Let them hear the words. Let them experience the rhythm of language. Let them discover the magic of a story. Let them see that books are not merely examination instruments but gateways into imagination, knowledge, creativity and possibility.
And let us not leave this responsibility to authors alone. Parents, teachers, publishers, booksellers, broadcasters, businesses, community organisations and government all have a role to play. The literacy crisis is too important to be left to the education system alone.
The revolution can begin with a book
There is a tendency to think that solving South Africa’s literacy crisis requires only grand national interventions. Of course, systemic reform, teacher development, early childhood education, infrastructure, learning materials and properly resourced schools are essential. But there is another intervention available to every one of us, and it does not require sophisticated technology or enormous financial resources.
We can open a book and read it to a child.
Then we can do it again tomorrow, and the day after that. A reading culture is not created simply by declaring that we are a nation of readers. It is created when reading becomes part of the ordinary rhythm of family and community life.
This International Literacy Day, let us therefore move beyond statistics and speeches. Let us accept responsibility for the role we play in shaping the reading habits of our children. Let us support our teachers, buy books, read to our children and allow them to see us reading.
Above all, let us create a generation that does not merely know how to read, but wants to read. Because a literate society that does not read is a society leaving one of its greatest intellectual assets unused.
South Africa needs to rediscover the pleasure of reading. We need to rebuild the culture of buying books, exchanging books, discussing books and giving books to our children. We need to restore the idea that a book is not simply a school requirement but a companion, a source of knowledge, a doorway to imagination and an instrument for understanding ourselves and the world around us.
This International Literacy Day, let us make reading sexy again. And let the revolution begin with us.
Tujenge Afrika Pamoja! Let’s Build Africa Together!
Enjoy your weekend.
Saul Molobi (FCIM)
PUBLISHER: JAMBO AFRICA ONLINE
and
Group Chief Executive Officer and Chairman
Brandhill Africa™
Tel: +27 11 759 4297
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