Who is Library sa Merkado really for?

By Noel Galon de Leon

Of course, it is good news that there is now a new “Library sa Merkado” at the Iloilo Central Market. In a city and a country that have long been confronting a reading crisis, any space that brings books closer to people is easy to applaud. But applause is not enough. More importantly, we need to ask what this project is really for. Is it truly for readers, especially for the children said to be its primary beneficiaries, or is it simply a good-looking idea, one that photographs well, is easy to post on social media, and is useful in creating a positive image for the local government?

There is nothing wrong with putting a library inside a market. In fact, it has the potential to become a radical and democratic way of bringing literature and knowledge closer to ordinary people. The market is a place of the masses. Vendors, porters, shoppers, workers, parents, and children who accompany their families are all there. But a good location does not automatically mean a good program. The more important question is this: how many people will actually use the library? And more importantly, what is the city doing to ensure that it does not simply become a room with books but without a real community of readers?

There is another problem that is difficult to ignore. The library is open from 8:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m., Monday through Friday. But when do many families and workers usually go to the market? Is it not during weekends, when they have more time? If the primary target is children who accompany their parents while shopping at the market, why were the days and hours when they are most likely to be there not immediately included in the design of the project? If weekend operations are still merely being considered, there seems to be room to ask whether the actual needs and movements of its intended users were sufficiently studied before the initiative was launched.

The question of accessibility also goes much deeper. We often hear that books need to be “brought closer to the people.” That is true. But physically bringing books closer to people is not the same as creating readers. You can place a hundred books in the busiest part of the city and still accomplish nothing if there is no clear and sustained program that encourages people to read. Where are the regular storytelling sessions? Where are the reading activities for the children of vendors? Where are the workshops, book clubs, volunteer readers, and programs that will help children who struggle with reading? A library is not decoration. A book is not furniture.

It is also encouraging to hear that Iloilo City now has two district libraries, eight barangay reading centers, four outdoor libraries in city plazas, and now one market-based library. But we need to be careful about counting spaces. The real measure of success is not how many libraries exist but how many people actually visit, read, borrow books, return, and gradually become lifelong readers. Does the city have data on the use of its existing reading centers? How many children return regularly? How many books are being read or borrowed? How many communities are actually benefiting? If we do not have answers to these questions, then we may simply be better at counting buildings than measuring real impact.

We should also talk about the opening ceremony itself. The mayor’s storytelling activity with her daughter and selected daycare children certainly made for a pleasant scene during the inauguration. But the real test begins after the cameras leave, after the speeches are over, and after the ribbon-cutting ceremony ends. Will there be people left behind to care for the space? Are there enough librarians or trained personnel? Will new books be added regularly? Is there a budget for maintenance and programming? A library does not come alive simply because an official opens it. It comes alive when children return day after day because they have a reason to come back.

We should also discuss the collection itself. What books are inside the Library sa Merkado? Are they merely old donations? Are there contemporary children’s books? Are there books in Hiligaynon, Kinaray-a, Filipino, and other languages used and recognized by communities in Iloilo? Are there books written by Ilonggo and West Visayan authors? If the goal of the library is to expand the imagination of children, then they should also be able to see their own world in its pages. It is difficult to encourage a child to love reading when the only places, lives, and experiences they encounter in books belong to someone else.

This is where being critical becomes even more important. We do not have to oppose the Library sa Merkado in order to question its shortcomings. In fact, precisely because we want the project to succeed, we need to question it. Genuine support is not blind praise. Genuine support means asking whether enough is being done, whether the design is appropriate, and whether there is a clear long-term plan. If Iloilo City is serious about confronting the reading crisis, the conversation cannot end with the opening of a reading space. It must confront the much more difficult task of building a culture of reading.

So the most important question remains: who is the Library sa Merkado really for? Is it for the child waiting while their mother shops? Is it for the child of a vendor who has no quiet place to read? Is it for the vendor who wants to continue learning? Or is it for a good headline, a good photograph, and another project that can easily be added to the list of accomplishments of the local government? It is not enough to say that “education should be accessible wherever our people are.” The real challenge is to ensure that there is genuine education, genuine reading, and genuine change happening wherever our people are.

I want to believe that the Library sa Merkado can become more than a publicity stunt. It can become a powerful model for a community-based reading program. But that will only happen if the project is not abandoned after the opening ceremony. It needs funding, people, regular programs, quality and locally relevant books, and a clear way of measuring its impact. Otherwise, there is a danger that the library will remain nothing more than a symbol of good intentions. And in a country facing a deep reading crisis, good intentions are no longer enough. We need programs that do not simply look good in photographs but genuinely change the lives of readers.

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Noel Galon de Leon is a writer and educator at the University of the Philippines Visayas. He teaches in the Division of Professional Education and at UP High School in Iloilo. He currently serves as Faculty-in-Charge of the UP Visayas Language Program Office and as Secretary of the National Committee on Literary Arts of the National Commission for Culture and the Arts (NCCA). His poetry has been recognized by the Don Carlos Palanca Memorial Awards for Literature.