As quickly as the applause came, so did the raised eyebrows — and the most stinging of criticisms came from Vice President Sara Duterte herself.

The government’s plan to pilot-test the sale of rice at P20 per kilo in the Visayas has become a hot topic of debate, attracting both applause and scrutiny.

On paper, the initiative sounds like a dream come true for millions of Filipinos struggling with the soaring cost of living. After all, President Ferdinand “Bongbong” Marcos Jr. had promised during his 2022 campaign that rice would one day cost just P20 per kilo under his administration.

With this pilot, the administration appears to be taking the first concrete step toward fulfilling that ambitious promise. However, as the saying goes, “the devil is in the details.”

Supporters of the program laud it as a pro-poor measure that demonstrates political will. Amid high inflation and food insecurity, the pilot offers immediate relief for families in the Visayas.

The region has been particularly vulnerable to economic shocks, and making rice more affordable could mean better nutrition and less hunger for many households. It also signals that the government is willing to experiment with direct interventions to help consumers and not just rely on market forces or subsidies that never seem to trickle down.

But as quickly as the applause came, so did the raised eyebrows — and the most stinging of criticisms came from Vice President Sara Duterte herself. In a sharply worded comment, she asked, “Don’t people in Luzon and Mindanao get hungry too?”

Her question cuts to the heart of a political issue that critics have been whispering about: Is this pilot a sincere effort to reduce hunger, or is it a strategic maneuver aimed at shoring up support in a region where the opposition is gaining ground?

Indeed, Duterte’s question hints at a deeper suspicion — that the choice of the Visayas for the pilot test may be less about food insecurity and more about political insecurity. Opposition candidates are reportedly leading administration bets in the region for the upcoming Senate race, and some view this rice rollout as a form of “rice politics.”

The administration might be trying to sway public sentiment in a region it fears losing, using subsidized rice as a soft campaign tool. If so, this would not be the first time that social welfare programs have been weaponized for electoral gain in Philippine politics.

Moreover, there is concern about the sustainability of such a program. Is this price point economically viable without heavily distorting the local rice market or bankrupting the National Food Authority (NFA)? Will farmers get fair compensation for their harvests, or will the burden of cheap rice fall on their shoulders?

Transparency about sourcing, budgeting, and the duration of the pilot remains limited. A pilot that benefits consumers but punishes producers could backfire spectacularly in the long term.

Ultimately, the P20 rice program is a litmus test for both policy and politics. It challenges the administration to prove that its promise is more than just campaign rhetoric. But it also raises critical questions about fairness and inclusivity. Hunger is not a regional issue — it’s a national one. Rolling out such a program only in one region, no matter how justified, risks fueling further division in a country already fragmented by geography and politics.

If the administration is serious about addressing hunger, it must ensure that such initiatives are felt across the archipelago, not just in places where votes are slipping away. After all, every Filipino deserves access to affordable rice — not just the politically convenient ones.

Published Date: April 27, 2025