IN RECENT years, Dabawenyos have eagerly awaited the arrival of the “Big Bad Wolf” book fair, an international sensation offering deeply discounted books. There’s nothing inherently wrong with affordable books—on the contrary, making literature accessible to the masses is a noble endeavor. However, while physical books remain out of vogue in this digital age, the goal of these book fairs is undeniably commendable: to place affordable literature into the hands of the public.
As someone who once reveled in the tactile joy of books—the crisp sound of turning pages, the intoxicating smell of freshly printed paper—I understand the allure of these fairs. They offer a euphoria unique to book lovers. But ask me if I’ll attend another one? My answer is a firm no. I’ve learned my lesson: the thrill of acquiring piles of books is fleeting, and the reality of watching them gather dust is sobering.
During my last visit to the Big Bad Wolf sale, I spent over p6,000 on books. Where are they now? Sitting on my shelves, collecting dust and perhaps even a colony of mold. My indiscriminate buying, fueled by the allure of “cheap” finds, was driven more by impulse than purpose.
This is not to malign corporations like Big Bad Wolf or National Bookstore Mega Sale—far from it. These organizations have done tremendous work in promoting literacy by making books accessible and affordable. The fault lies not with them, but with us as consumers. We must approach book buying with responsibility and intention.
Books are more than just objects; they are vessels of knowledge, creativity, and transformation. From self-help guides that can inspire kindness and growth to novels that spark imagination, the books we buy hold the potential to enrich our lives. But this potential is wasted if they remain untouched, relegated to shelves as silent witnesses to our neglect.
The phrase “Don’t judge a book by its cover” comes to mind—a cliché, perhaps, but apt in this context. Owning a book is not the same as reading it, let alone sharing its wisdom. Books have a spirit, a transformative energy that can only be realized when their content is engaged with and shared.
My plea is simple: share the knowledge you acquire. Read your books and allow their lessons to seep into your life. Then, pass them on. Lend a self-help book to someone in need of motivation. Gift a cookbook to a friend caring for a sick parent. Use fiction to spark creativity in your workplace or community.
I write this not to chastise, but to reflect on my own journey as a book hoarder turned advocate for responsible reading. My education at the University of Southeastern Philippines (USeP) instilled in me a deep appreciation for literature—an understanding that books are meant to be lived, not merely owned.
Let us, as readers, be more mindful. Let us embrace the spirit of sharing and use our books as tools for personal and communal growth. Only then can we honor the true essence of the written word.
–George Evan B. Cuadrillero
