SONA: Rhetoric vs. Reality

Each year, the State of the Nation Address (SONA) offers a carefully crafted window into the priorities of our national leadership. It is an annual ritual—part performance, part report card—meant to uplift, inform, and inspire confidence. President Ferdinand Marcos Jr.’s 2025 SONA was no exception. It was polished, expansive, and passionately delivered. With 124 rounds of applause and a standing ovation, even longtime critics acknowledged: the speech hit all the right notes.

The President spoke of sustained infrastructure investment, job creation, disaster resilience, digital innovation, industrialization, and agricultural modernization. He also touched on free education, expanded public health services, and the promotion of science and technology. He was even humble enough to acknowledge the gaps and unfinished work. The speechwriting was notably effective, walking the line between ambition and relatability.

But in regions like Bicol—poor, disaster-prone, and often overlooked in national planning—the value of a good speech lies in what happens after the applause. For many Bicolanos, progress remains a promise rather than a lived experience. Roads are cracked and riddled with potholes. Drainage systems overflow with the first heavy rain. Urban centers expand without planning, while informal housing sprawls in flood-prone areas. Development, here, feels distant—abstract rather than tangible.

Men and women like Virginia, Pando, and Josefina survive on P200 to P400 a day—when work is available. They rely on 4Ps cash transfers not to escape poverty, but to endure it. For them, the SONA remains a hopeful performance, not yet a roadmap to real change. Even the middle class—those with modest jobs or small businesses—receive the speech with cautious skepticism. The ambitions were lofty, but the plans were thin on timelines, metrics, or funding. Analysts noted that it was more a celebration of what had been done than a concrete vision of what comes next.

One of the most talked-about moments in the speech was Marcos’s directive that all flood control projects be submitted to his office and reviewed by the Department of Public Works and Highways (DPWH). This was framed as a blow against corruption and inefficiency. In flood-ravaged regions like Bicol, it struck a chord. But here, where typhoons arrive yearly and entire barangays are submerged, oversight alone is not enough. We need not just reviews, but results: climate-resilient infrastructure, effective early warning systems, sustainable relocation programs, and real housing investments. Oversight without urgency and resources is bureaucracy, not reform.

Jobs were another central theme of the SONA—and rightfully so. Yet Bicol still records the highest regional unemployment. The President spoke of digital jobs, creative industries, and manufacturing hubs. But such industries rarely reach beyond Metro Manila or Central Luzon. What will bring those jobs to Bicol? What investments and incentives will empower the LGUs, schools, and workers to engage with this transformation? Without clear answers, the future feels out of reach. Dynastic politics continue to reign full speed like at the top so transformation and real change for the poor sectors remain elusive.

Industrialization was also emphasized. But the plan leans heavily on foreign capital and extractive industries like mining. While these may raise GDP, they often do so at great environmental and social cost. The bigger question is: who benefits? Will Filipinos shape and own this industrial future, or will we continue as mere laborers in ventures that deplete our resources? The President’s mention of microenterprise and grassroots job creation was a bright spot. Yet success will depend on meaningful implementation. Jobs must be decent, stable, and accessible to those at the margins. In Bicol, work remains scarce. The region is at the top with the most number of unemployed. Young people continue to leave—heading to cities or overseas, often into precarious, low-wage conditions. The cycle of migration and poverty persists.

And yet Bicol is not a region without potential. We have rich farmlands, abundant fisheries, a thriving informal economy, geothermal and wind energy prospects, and an emerging eco-tourism sector. What we lack is consistent inclusion in national development. We do not need one-off projects or symbolic visits—we need a seat at the table. National planning must treat Bicol not as an afterthought but as a driver of growth. That is why the promises of the SONA must now translate into policies that are regionally grounded and equitably funded. Budgets must reflect fairness. Programs must be adapted to local realities. Support must reach farmers, fisherfolk, indigenous peoples, women, and small entrepreneurs in barangays, upland farms, and coastal towns. Good governance means not just policy delivery—but policy fit.

The SONA may uplift for a fleeting moment, but only real results build trust. Can this government close the gap between promise and reality? Can it empower provinces like Bicol, where storms are not just meteorological—but systemic? The example of change must start at the leadership. The applause in Congress has faded. Now comes the hard part. For Bicol and for millions of Filipinos, it is no longer enough to speak of change. It must be seen. It must be felt. It must be lived. Meantime, we prepare for the next rains and floods in the coming months.