The recent uproar over the alleged “double item” issue in the hiring of teachers under the Ministry of Basic, Higher, and Technical Education (MBHTE) in the Bangsamoro Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao (BARMM) reveals a deeper wound within the region’s education system — one that has long been festering beneath the surface of bureaucracy, frustration, and broken promises.
Reports from various provinces, including Maguindanao del Norte, Marawi City, and the two divisions of Lanao del Sur, point to cases where some applicants were reportedly granted two plantilla items while others, despite years of volunteer service and advanced qualifications, were once again left behind. These claims have fueled public discontent and reignited calls for transparency and fairness in the MBHTE’s hiring process.
At the heart of this issue lies the cry of hundreds of volunteer teachers who have spent a decade or more teaching without compensation or security. Teachers like Mariam Bagul Sultan, who served for ten years at Siawadato Elementary School in Lanao del Sur, and Saadodin S. Marohom, who has volunteered for thirteen years, mentoring and coaching students from the local to the national level. Both are licensed professional teachers with master’s degrees—individuals who embody commitment and moral service.
Their stories are not isolated; they echo across the region, where countless educators continue to serve without recognition. They have passed the board, earned their degrees, and trained tirelessly, yet remain outside the formal system they have faithfully served. Their students—some of whom are now itemized teachers—are living reminders of both their impact and their exclusion.
The MBHTE has since released statements emphasizing that its hiring process is anchored in “merit, qualification, and integrity” and that each stage undergoes careful validation to ensure fairness. The Ministry has also warned against individuals offering teaching positions in exchange for money—an important reminder amid widespread rumors of “item selling” and fixing.
However, these assurances ring hollow for many who have long waited for justice within the system. The calls for the release of the Registry of Qualified Applicants (RQA) grow louder each day. Applicants argue that publishing the RQA is a simple yet powerful act of transparency — one that could rebuild public trust and dispel allegations of favoritism or manipulation.
This issue cannot be viewed in isolation. It unfolds alongside another serious concern — the ongoing Commission on Audit (COA) investigation into alleged corruption and irregularities within the Ministry. Taken together, these controversies cast a long shadow over the MBHTE, which was once hailed as a model of moral governance in the Bangsamoro region.
Moral governance, after all, demands more than statements of integrity. It requires the courage to be transparent, to confront inefficiencies, and to ensure that every decision reflects the values of fairness and accountability. The MBHTE’s credibility hinges not only on how it addresses corruption but also on how it honors the unseen teachers whose sacrifices have sustained the region’s schools for years.
Education is the backbone of peace and progress in Bangsamoro. Yet how can peace flourish when those who nurture it are neglected? How can the region speak of reform if those who have given their lives to education remain invisible?
Volunteer teachers like Mariam and Saadodin are not asking for special treatment—they are asking to be seen. They have already proven their competence, loyalty, and dedication. What they seek now is recognition, justice, and inclusion in a system they helped uphold when resources were scarce and hope was thin.
The MBHTE must act decisively. It must publish the Registry of Qualified Applicants, audit potential cases of double items, and ensure a truly merit-based selection process. Most importantly, it must restore the confidence of educators who once believed in its promise of reform.
Transparency is not a threat—it is the foundation of trust. And trust, once lost, cannot be restored by press releases alone. The Bangsamoro people deserve a Ministry that not only speaks of moral governance but lives it—one decision, one teacher, one classroom at a time.