Every May 17, Indonesia celebrates National Book Day. Yet, despite the growing reach of information technology, the literacy gap between urban centres and remote regions remains alarmingly wide.
According to UNESCO, Indonesia’s reading interest index is still relatively low. Worse, there are stark disparities in literacy levels between different regions.
For example, data from the Center for Education and Culture Policy Research (2019) shows that reading literacy activity in Papua Province is just 19.9%—far below the national average of 41.03%.
But literacy inequality isn’t just about numbers. We need to understand that literacy is more than just the ability to read. It also includes the ability to comprehend information, think critically, and participate meaningfully in society.
Low literacy levels limit people’s ability to take part in development and, in turn, can widen the social inequality gap.
One aspect that often gets overlooked in literacy discussions is taxation. In reality, taxes play a strategic role as a tool for equity—including in education and literacy development.
Through taxes, the state gathers resources that can be allocated to building educational infrastructure, supplying books, training librarians, and digitising access to reading materials.
The government allocates at least 20% of the national budget to education, as mandated by the 1945 Constitution. A portion of this goes toward literacy initiatives, such as the National Literacy Movement, village library development, and book distribution to remote areas.
But large budgets alone won’t solve the problem. Achieving literacy equity requires a locally grounded approach.
This need becomes evident when we look at real-life situations. Take Papua, for instance—here, the literacy challenge isn’t just a lack of books. It’s also about how disconnected reading materials are from the lived experiences of the people.
Papua is rich in culture, language, and biodiversity. Yet in terms of human development—especially literacy—it still lags behind.
As noted by Yektiningtyas and Modouw (2023), Papuan children often prefer playing outdoors to reading. It’s not because they dislike reading, but because the books available feel unfamiliar. For many of them, stories about rice, apples, trains, or elephants don’t reflect their daily lives.
That’s why libraries need to transform—not just as storage spaces for books, but as dynamic institutions that bridge reading content with local realities. Folktales like Ebi and Kandei emotionally resonate with children in Papua because they see themselves in the stories.
When children name the birds of paradise or tilapia fish they encounter every day, they’re not just reading—they’re bringing literacy to life.
Transforming libraries in remote areas starts with recognising local social and cultural contexts. There are three key steps we must take:
First, revamp book curation to better reflect local values. Regional governments and educational institutions should promote the publication of local folktales, complete with contextual illustrations and translations into regional languages.
Second, train librarians who understand Papuan cultural dynamics and can act as friendly learning facilitators—not just bookkeepers.
Third, foster multi-stakeholder collaboration involving traditional leaders, teachers, local writers, academics, religious communities, and the private sector. The goal is to make libraries a shared movement, not just a top-down initiative.
Across Indonesia’s rural and remote areas, some community reading centres have already pioneered child-friendly reading spaces. The challenge, however, is that many of the books rely on donations from outside the region, which don’t always align with local life and culture.
That’s why we need affirmative regulations—backed by tax funding—to strengthen local book production and distribution, and to support digital library access in hard-to-reach areas.
Literacy flourishes when it’s nurtured by cultural closeness and real-life relevance. When people see taxes not just as a financial obligation but as a contribution to national enlightenment, every rupiah paid becomes an investment in civilisation.
We hope that from the remotest villages to the tallest city schools, children will be able to access books that spark imagination and broaden their horizons.
Libraries are gateways to new worlds. In our villages and rural heartlands, that gateway can only open when it’s built on familiar ground—through language and culture that is understood and respected. And with well-managed tax revenue, the state has the power to make literacy a basic right—not something determined by geography or distance.
Literacy equity is a long-term mission. But the path to social justice can begin with every relevant book, every trained librarian, and every child who reads with understanding. Taxes must be mobilised to support social justice—including through equal access to literacy.
