No one is in control

It is exhausting to stay focused on what I believe should be our nation’s real concerns when the environment is consumed by political drama rather than the pressing challenges to governance and societal growth. But these distractions are not just a part of life in the Philippines—they dominate it. We have no choice but to factor them into our daily landscape and learn to navigate around them.

We are facing a crisis in food security. This is nothing new, of course, but rarely does the government even admit its existence as clearly as it does today. The crisis, however, persists largely because of an even more fundamental flaw—our inability to produce essential food items despite our country’s fertile agricultural environment. We have all the necessary ingredients: land, water, climate, farmers, technology, and consumers. Yet, our agricultural output remains disappointingly low. It is no surprise, then, that poverty is most prevalent in rural areas, among small farmers, fisherfolk, and their families.

Compounding the failure of agricultural development is the failure of education. Poverty in the Philippines is no longer just an economic issue; it has taken over our education system and given rise to a new term—learning poverty. Our public school system has reached a crisis point, with a staggering 91% of ten-year-old students unable to read or comprehend age-appropriate texts. This crisis threatens the very future of our youth, undermining what should be an advantage—our growing young workforce. Instead of being a strength, this demographic is being weakened by a crippling learning deficit.

With millions already struggling to put food on the table, and tens of millions more fearing food insecurity, we do not have the luxury of time to confront these crises as a united people. Yet, we continue to be consumed by distractions—politics and elections.

Even as we face the alarming prospect of an underprepared workforce in the coming generations, our attention remains fixated on the political zarzuela of two feuding, destructive dynasties. Somehow, we fail to recognize that these political families are not the solution to our problems but rather the very cause of them. We need only look at the last nine years to measure the immense societal losses we have suffered.

At the heart of these losses is the worsening corruption in government. The Philippines’ corruption index had already fallen below 100, only to climb back up to 115—meaning corruption worsened between 2018 and 2024, the years of Duterte and Marcos. The cost of corruption is evident in the staggering foreign debts incurred by both administrations—each adding approximately P1 trillion per year, compared to just P1 trillion over the entire six years of the PNoy administration.

This growing corruption is not just a crisis; it must become a national conversation. It is as urgent and dangerous as the continued neglect of agriculture, the struggle of small farmers and fisherfolk, and the learning poverty that threatens to cripple the productivity of future generations.

With another election coming in May 2025, we are once again at a crossroads. It is another chance to change the course of our history—or to dig ourselves even deeper into the hole we are already in. If we continue to elect the same kind of leaders who have enabled the neglect of agriculture, the decline of education, and the worsening of corruption, then we can expect nothing but more of the same. Except this time, our suffering will be even worse because we have already lost so much. If we are to believe the many surveys circulating today, however, Filipinos seem to be blindly diving into an even darker abyss.

At the same time, I sense a definitive shift—an energy sweeping across the world, rapid and unpredictable, carrying the theme of change. I know the Philippines will not be exempt, though I cannot say if this shift will affect the coming elections. But I feel it, and I believe we must prepare for the unexpected.

This is why I choose to focus on what we can do individually and directly—on efforts to ease food insecurity, reduce poverty, and reform our education system. Politically, there is little I can do beyond voting for candidates who have a proven track record in small agriculture, education, and accountability. I already know who they are because they have consistently addressed these three urgent national concerns.

I have made a conscious effort to be objective in sharing my thoughts, avoiding what might seem like endorsements of specific candidates rather than the advocacies they stand for. But in the 2022 elections, I openly expressed my support for Leni Robredo because she embodied the most critical virtues for Filipino governance—transparency, accountability, sacrifice, and bayanihan. I feel no less convinced today about Bam Aquino for education, Kiko Pangilinan for agriculture, and Heidi Mendoza for accountability in fighting corruption. I pray for them, I pray for the Filipino people, and I pray for our nation.

At this moment, the forces struggling for control are failing to maintain it. Instead, their battles are only adding heat and friction to an already volatile political and economic environment—one that feels like dry powder, waiting for a spark. In other words, no one is truly in control in this hyperactive and combative landscape. It is a delicate moment in our history, but it will not stay this way for long. Something has to give—and it will.