No, this article is not about public-private partnerships, a.k.a. build-operate-transfer (BOT) and similar schemes for infrastructure provision by the private sector—although that would be useful too. In a visit to Sulu last week in my work for economic development in the Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao (ARMM), I found out that the most critical needs in the island province could be summed up in three Ps. I discuss each one below.
There is a view that what ARMM needs at this time are some high-impact investments, for at least two reasons. One, ARMM now has well-meaning interim regional leaders, led by reformist Regional Gov. Mujiv Hataman, who only have 15 months to do their work and chart a new course for ARMM. And among President Aquino’s marching orders for Hataman is to identify and embark on high-impact initiatives that would set ARMM on the path of sustained development. Two, even as good initiatives at the local and community levels from government and foreign donors have yielded positive results at the grass roots, the aggregate welfare indicators have shown little change. After years of dedicated efforts on the ground, ARMM provinces have nonetheless remained the poorest in the country. It is thus believed that more far-reaching interventions and initiatives are needed, as quickly as possible. The poor in Muslim Mindanao have waited for far too long.
Sulu is illustrative of ARMM’s daunting challenges. Long an agricultural, fishing and trading economy, it lacks significant industrial activity to provide adequate livelihood and employment for its more than 800,000 inhabitants. Until operations were stopped in the wake of the global financial crisis in 2009, BJ Coconut Oil Mill was the only large industrial enterprise in the province. Established in 1996 by Ben Loong, now vice governor of the province and formerly governor in 2004-2007, BJ Coco Oil had the capacity to crush 175 tons of copra daily. With an annual requirement exceeding 50,000 tons of copra, it provided a ready market for the coconut farmers of Sulu and neighboring Basilan and Tawi-Tawi, and, as farmers we interviewed attested, at better prices than offered by other buyers.
But among other problems, costly and unreliable power—first of our three Ps—was a formidable challenge for the company, leading it to invest in its own power generator to ensure stability of its power supply. It is readily evident that power is among the foremost constraints to attracting significant investments in the province, which is true for Basilan and Tawi-Tawi as well. It is a challenge that is both technical and institutional in nature. Apart from inherently higher costs of power due to dependence on costly diesel generating plants in island areas, inefficiencies and financial difficulties typically hounding electric cooperatives (especially in ARMM) compound Sulu’s power problem.
National Electrification Administration data for 2010 indicate that Sulu Electric Cooperative (Suleco) had a collection efficiency of only 39 percent, and systems losses running to 24.5 percent, second worst in the country for both measures. This means that nearly two-thirds of its power bills were not being paid for (against only 0-5 percent for most of the country), and one-fourth of its power is lost to technical inefficiencies and pilferage (about twice the national average of 12.95 percent). Much of the unpaid bills, I was told, were owed by government entities, including the military brigade in Jolo. Suleco had accumulated a whopping P930 million in debts to the National Power Corp. as of early last year. Sulu’s power problem is, to say the least, a formidable one, whose solution calls for draconian measures and concerted efforts. But the impressive turnaround story of the Lanao del Sur Electric Cooperative that I recently wrote about (“An impressive turnaround,” Inquirer, 11/15/11) gives me confidence that Sulu’s problem can be similarly solved.
Potable water is the second P that my hosts told me demands attention. The Jolo water system is antiquated and rendered unsafe by severely rusted and leaky pipes. There’s a story going around of an American military officer who refused to bathe in anything but bottled drinking water, believing the tap water to be unsafe even on his skin. While some improvements had been made through
USAID assistance in recent years, there remains much to be desired. In my inn, pail-and-tabo (dipper) was the only way to bathe, given water pressure that was little more than a trickle—and yet the Jolo Mainland Water District facility was just across the street. According to former provincial administrator Al Anzar, our gracious guide throughout our visit, sources of fresh water supply are not a problem in Sulu; it’s in the distribution system where the inadequacy lies. Here is where PPP in its usual meaning—a la Manila Water Company—can help.
The third P came up when I popped the question I always make a point to ask in field visits, with farmers we gathered for an informal discussion: If there was one thing you could ask of the government, what would it be? Elsewhere, I have heard farmers ask for carabaos, horses or other concrete needs. For the Sulu farmers we gathered, the reply was different, and unanimous: Give us peace. Tired of having to abandon their farms—and losing their livelihoods—every so often due to periodic military operations, the farmers declared: “The government can give us everything we need for our farms, but without peace, all these are for nothing.”
Peace, power and potable water for Sulu—any high-impact initiatives for any of these, anyone?
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E-mail: cielito.habito@gmail.com