Shelves of hope at Lampara's launch

AT a Quezon City media event, children’s authors confront the country’s literacy crisis with stories designed to meet young readers where they are.
Photo by Amelia Clarissa de Luna Monasterial / DAILY TRIBUNE images.
I have always considered myself a reader first, and a writer second. Books built the architecture of my inner world. They taught me language, sharpened my questions, and gave shape to feelings I could not yet name. They were my first friends, especially as a child who often felt lonely and alienated.
So when I walked into the JRich Corporate Center in Quezon City on Tuesday, 3 March 2026, for the media launch of Lampara Publishing House Inc., I expected to feel at home. Instead, I felt something closer to humility.
Because as much as I loved reading as a child, I realized that I did not grow up with the kinds of children’s books Lampara was presenting that afternoon.
On display were the company’s Reading and Numeracy Packages, including the Magbasa Tayo! and Let’s Read! series, the first local decodable texts in the Philippines. Around me were stacks of brightly illustrated books, structured learning kits, and the urgency that hung in the air once the numbers were mentioned.
Ninety percent of Filipino children aged 10 struggle with reading.
It is one thing to say that statistic out loud. It is another to sit in a room full of people who have built their careers around trying to change it.

WITH over 1,000 published titles, Lampara has grown to be one of the vanguards of children's literature in the publishing industry.
Photo by Amelia Clarissa de Luna Monasterial / DAILY TRIBUNE images.
What went wrong
I grew up reading, yes. There were school-sponsored short stories, lessons taught inside fluorescent-lit classrooms, and hours spent in a reading nook. But child-appropriate books are not just about subject matter. They are about how the story is told.
Children learn about complex ideas through carefully framed narratives. Faith, for example, is often introduced through gentle retellings of stories like Noah’s Ark or the laughter of Sarah at the promise of her son Isaac. The themes are profound, but the language is warm, protective, and mindful of a child’s emotional capacity.
That was not always my experience.
The world I encountered through some of my early reading felt darker than it needed to be. I learned about guilt before I learned about grace. About failure before love. That framing mattered and shaped me into the sullen child, teenager, and adult I grew to be.
That is what struck me most at the Lampara launch. Writing for children is not easy. It requires skill, discipline, and sensitivity. It means engaging a child’s curiosity and imagination, teaching practical realities about the world, all the while preserving innocence, hope, and wonder.







