The latest data from the Philippine Statistics Authority (PSA) is nothing short of alarming: over 18 million junior high school graduates in the Philippines are now considered functionally illiterate. These are not dropouts. These are students who went through the system, finished school—and yet cannot comprehend, compute, or make sense of basic information.
Even more disturbing, Mindanao once again bears the heaviest burden. In the Bangsamoro Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao (BARMM), particularly in Tawi-Tawi, a staggering 67% of the population is functionally illiterate. In basic literacy—those who can’t even read or write—BARMM also leads, with 16% of its population falling in this category. In Tawi-Tawi alone, over one-third of the people are basically illiterate.
And this crisis is not new. In fact, we were warned years ago.
According to the 2020 Census-based Literacy Rate, Mindanao regions already ranked at the bottom of the national list. The National Capital Region (NCR) posted a 98.9% literacy rate, followed closely by Regions 1, 4-A, and 3—all above 98%. In contrast, Region 12 (SOCCSKSARGEN) had 94.7%, Region 9 (Zamboanga Peninsula) had 94.0%, and BARMM had a shocking 86.4%. That was five years ago. Today, the numbers remain the same—or worse.
This is not just an education crisis. This is a development, peace, and economic crisis. How can one expect to lift communities out of poverty, curb extremism, or attract business investments when the population cannot read, write, or understand instructions? As Senator Sherwin Gatchalian pointed out, “breaking the cycle of poverty is very difficult if we have problems with literacy.”
Yet, in the face of this national emergency, the government’s response is bafflingly contradictory. The 2025 national budget shows a cut in the education sector, while billions of pesos are being poured into short-term “ayuda” programs and populist giveaways. While social support is essential—especially in times of calamity or pandemic—we must ask: how long will we keep treating the symptoms while ignoring the disease?
What is the point of handing out cash, rice, or fuel discounts to a population that, year after year, is failed by the very education system that is supposed to empower them?
These are not numbers in a spreadsheet. These are real children from Tawi-Tawi, Basilan, Sultan Kudarat, Saranggani—regions long left behind. And every year that we fail to invest in their education, we sentence them to a life of limited opportunities and inherited poverty.
The government’s decision to divert funds from long-term solutions like education to short-term optics-driven programs is nothing less than reckless. It’s a choice that sacrifices the future for political survival. Worse, it continues to marginalize regions like Mindanao, where the stakes of education are not just economic—they are existential.
This editorial is a call to action—not just for lawmakers and education officials but for every Filipino. The budget is a reflection of our values. If we are serious about solving poverty, inequality, and underdevelopment, then education must be the top priority, not a fiscal afterthought.
The 2024 FLEMMS data should be enough to shake us into clarity: this is not the time to shrink the education budget. This is the time to double down. This is the moment to fund school infrastructure in remote areas, train reading teachers, bring back remedial and adult literacy programs, and create a whole-of-government approach to make sure no student is left behind.
Otherwise, we must stop wondering why Mindanao remains poor, why jobs are scarce, or why peace is elusive. Because when we deny people the power to read, write, and understand, we deny them the very tools to change their lives.
What priority is more urgent than that?