Budgeting Like Home

I asked Noel Bermudo how he would budget his salary for his family of five, living in a wooden shack in the middle of a half-hectare rice field in San Jose, Pili, Camarines Sur. Noel works as a security guard for three days and as a farmer for four—including Sundays—in Naga City, where he earns ₱500 a day.

Without hesitation, he said he would make sure there’s food on the table first. Next, he’d set aside money for farming, then for his fare to and from the city, and finally for the needs of his children who go to public school.

He thinks every poor man would do the same. “Food is the priority,” he said. But when he heard over the radio that government budgeting doesn’t follow this simple logic, he felt betrayed—especially when agriculture, the sector he identifies with, was again left out of the priority list of legislators now caught in corruption scandals.

It was the same story in 2023 and 2024, when sectors central to poverty reduction—like agriculture and rural development—struggled to claim a fair share compared to public works and debt servicing. Food ranked only fifth in 2023, and eighth in 2024.

I can only sympathize. On October 16, the world will mark World Food Day—a reminder that food should come first. Yet in our national budget, it rarely does. Whatever happened to the promised P20 a kilo rice for the family?

A friend who once worked with the Department of Budget and Management explained that the National Expenditure Program (NEP)—the basis of the national budget—is shaped by planning, policy, performance, and politics. It cannot be as simple as budgeting at home.

But Noel insists, “Kasi hindi nila nararanasan buhay ng mahirap.” (They don’t experience the life of the poor.) “Dae ninda na-experience ang pagtitios kan dakulang mga mag-uuma asin pamilya ninda.” (They don’t feel the hardship of farmers and their families.)

Aware of public outrage over billions wasted in corruption and ghost projects, he sighed, “Dae na lang itao ang mga budget na yan sa gobyerno.” As if his advice could end corruption—but I understood his frustration.

Planning a budget, after all, should be like managing a home: you make sure every peso is spent wisely, that needs come before wants, and that something is saved for the future.

The same applies to any organization or school. Each member has needs, and good management ensures resources are distributed fairly, priorities are clear, and nothing essential is wasted. Budgeting is about keeping a home in order—you list your priorities, control spending, and make sure your plans today sustain your future. Isn’t that what budgeting is supposed to be about?

Our government—from Congress to the President and his Cabinet, from governors to mayors and barangay officials—should think the same way. It is about deciding to allocate the bigger share of the budget to the people’s most urgent needs.

It is ironic and embarrassing that in countries like China, Japan, Singapore, and India, investments in the economy, innovation, and social services rank high, while in surveys across the United States, agriculture and social welfare consistently top people’s concerns.

Now look at the NEP for 2025, the spending plan of a dominantly agricultural country like the Philippines, where food production continues to lag:

1. Department of Education – ₱928.5 billion

2. Department of Public Works and Highways – ₱880.3 billion

3. Department of Health – ₱320.5 billion

4. Department of National Defense – ₱299.3 billion

5. Department of the Interior and Local Government – ₱287.5 billion

6. Department of Agriculture – ₱239.2 billion

7. Department of Social Welfare and Development – ₱227.0 billion

See the mindset? In a home, we would make sure food, health, and learning come first—not prestige projects or oversized defense spending.

For people like Noel, that “like-home” mindset must guide how we invest public funds—food production, protect coastal communities, support farmers and fishers, strengthen education and build infrastructure that truly serves people’s needs.

A responsible budget reflects shared values. It shows that we care for the next generation, not just the next election. If Bicol—and the nation—planned its resources as wisely as a poor farmer’s household, we could turn poverty into progress and real development.

In the end, a well-planned budget is a well-kept home: safe, sustainable, and filled with hope for the future—especially for the poor who make up the majority in Philippine society. Because when a home eats well, learns well, and lives well, the whole nation thrives.