Each time a child settles down to read a book or listen to a story, they are delivering fuel to their imagination. The better the writing, the higher the quality of the fuel, of course, but there is such a strong connection between reading and a rich inner life, that — much like malnutrition can bring about physical stunting — those who have not been fired up through reading in childhood struggle to access their imagination later. Beyond entertainment, reading is foundational to a child’s emotional and cognitive development. According to bibliotherapy studies, reading — which includes audio access — can help children process difficult emotions and experiences, thereby offering a safe space for reflection. The Organisation for Economic Cooperation and Development notes that early reading correlates with improved mental health, self-expression and empathy in children. When young readers encounter characters who look, speak or feel like them, it reinforces a sense of belonging. And when they see different lives represented, it builds bridges across cultures. Yet, for many children globally, the experience of seeing themselves in the pages of a book remains a rare one.

Historical overview: Minority representation

Until recently, children’s books (all over the world) centred around predominantly white, Western protagonists. In the UK, the Centre for Literacy in Primary Education (CLPE) reported that in 2017, only 1 per cent of children’s books featured a Black, Asian or Minority Ethnic (BAME) main character. By 2020, this had risen to 15%, which reflected growing awareness and advocacy. Across the Atlantic, the Cooperative Children’s Book Center (CCBC) found that in the US, only 9 per cent of children’s books in 1990 featured characters from Black, Indigenous or People of Color (BIPOC) backgrounds. Despite public commitments to diversity, as of 2023, just 38 per cent of children’s books featured BIPOC characters. And these were not necessarily protagonists.

The numbers underscore slow but noticeable progress. Yet they also reflect how deeply ingrained the underrepresentation has been and how much further there is to go.

Why has BAME representation regressed?

Following the 2020 global reckoning with racial injustice, publishers worldwide promised to amplify diverse voices. This commitment led to a visible, though often short-lived, surge in books featuring BAME protagonists. However, recent years have seen a troubling regression. Publishers cite “diversity fatigue,” reduced sales for such titles, and logistical or budgetary challenges. But critics argue this reflects a return to the status quo. The push for diversity was, in many cases, reactive rather than transformational.

Instead of structural changes in editorial teams, marketing priorities or supply chains, many diversity initiatives remained surface-level. Some authors of colour report having projects greenlit during the 2020 wave, only to see them shelved months later. Without sustained investment, the gains of the past few years risk being undone.

Who is writing the stories?

Another crucial aspect of representation is authorship. Who gets to tell the stories? While the number of books featuring BAME protagonists has increased, many of these are still written by white authors. In the US, only 8 per cent of children’s books in 2023 were written by Black authors, despite Black children making up a much larger proportion of the school-age population.

There are several reasons for this imbalance. Authors of colour often lack access to literary agents, influential publishing networks and mentorship. Their stories are frequently deemed “too niche” or not “marketable” enough by predominantly white gatekeepers. Economic barriers also play a role; writing a book, submitting it to publishers, and surviving the often long and uncertain publishing process is easier for those with financial stability and institutional support.

The “own-voices” movement, which advocates for people from underrepresented communities to tell their own stories, has brought these issues into focus. Authentic storytelling isn’t just about diverse characters, it’s about the depth, nuance and cultural understanding that comes from lived experience.

Africa: A landscape of potential and challenge

Across the African continent, there is a glaring shortage of quality stories written by Africans for African children. In many classrooms, stories still come from the UK or the US, often featuring unfamiliar settings, foods and customs. While these books have value, they cannot substitute for locally-rooted stories that reflect the hopes, dreams and struggles of African children. A true story from Kenya brings this into the harsh light of reality. A Kenyan girl, 11 years of age at the time and an avid reader, complained to her white school friend that in the imagination games they played together regularly, she saw herself as a white character with “fair” hair, because these were the characters she was reading about every day. Now that she is older and has access to more diverse content, this has changed, but it is nonetheless an alarming wake-up call.

Several factors contribute to such scarcity of representative content: underfunded publishing sectors, limited distribution networks, and a lack of government investment in local literature. In some countries, there are few incentives for writing or illustrating for children, and even fewer for doing so in indigenous languages.

However, there are inspiring exceptions. Authors like Elizabeth-Irene Baitie from Ghana, known for The Lion’s Whisper, and Meshack Asare, whose Sosu’s Call has touched readers across the continent, are paving the way. Kenyan writer Kari Mutu — who featured on this platform a few weeks ago – brought us The Firemakers of Azali. Nigerian author and publisher Lola Shoneyin, through her Aké Arts and Book Festival, champions children’s literature that centres African voices. Initiatives like eKitabu in Kenya provide digital access to inclusive African stories, while the Golden Baobab Prize supports emerging writers and illustrators from across Africa. Platforms like OkadaBooks in Nigeria enable self-publishing, allowing more African authors to reach young readers.

These examples show what is possible when local voices are encouraged, fostered and celebrated. But the path to success is not a linear one; to develop the kind of rich imagination that creates prolific, high quality and contextually relevant content that inspires readers to become writers of the same is an ongoing and cyclical process of reading, learning and writing; composting, growing and harvesting.

What true representation looks like

Representation in children’s literature is more than just numbers. It is about creating a world where every child can see themselves, in the characters they encounter and the authors who create them. Around the globe, readers, parents, educators and publishers have a role to play in amplifying underrepresented voices. Progress has been made, but it must be sustained through long-term support for diverse creators, not just during cultural flashpoints.

In Africa, however, we have an opportunity to do something different. This current moment in Kenya finds us at the threshold of many things; in the literary scene it is very exciting to hear new voices begin to emerge, serious about their craft and passionate about their culture. However, as it is widely understood by development experts and economists that investment in our children is the way to secure the future of this continent, it must follow that investment in children’s literature will do the same for publishing.

Children are our future

Parents and English teachers in Kenya often bemoan the lack of quality local content but what they forget is that our writers are in the same boat as the readers. They don’t have a plethora of quality local content to draw from either. And, as good reading begets good writing, this makes them pioneers. The path forward, therefore, lies in nurturing this brave local talent with creative inputs like dynamic training and mentoring, community hubs, competitions, awards and publishing support, until we have a flourishing industry of rich and representative content — the creators of which no longer see the epitome of success as being published in the West.

Investing in African children’s and young adult literature would nurture a generation of readers and storytellers who see themselves reflected in the books they read. With Africa's population set to double by 2050 (nearly half under the age of 18) the demand for culturally relevant, engaging stories is only set to grow. Supporting local writers not only enriches education and literacy but also builds a sustainable creative economy, fosters social cohesion and strengthens identity. As digital access expands, so too does the opportunity for scalable, cross-border distribution, making this an untapped and high-potential market for both social impact and long-term returns.

Ultimately, we need to envisage a world in which the next global best-seller is both a children’s book and a hit in Africa first. And if you can’t see that happening, you need to read more children’s books.