Hunger stalks our school children

First scene. He was lean and small for a grade one pupil. A bowl in hand, he had lined up with his classmates for the morning porridge given out free at a squatters' resettlement area. Behind the boy stood a still smaller child who was also carrying a bowl while holding on tightly to the former's shirt.

"They are brothers", the feeding teacher told me. "He comes with his kuya during feeding"

There were actually about a dozen pupils who were accompanied by their younger siblings that morning. These pupils were the only ones entitled to the food. But they would usually bring along a brother or a sister to share with them what the school kitchen gave.

After getting their share the kids trekked back to their classroom. I followed them and watched as they partook of the day's ration. It was a heartening sight: The children voraciously attacking their food such that in a minute or two the bowls were empty. "They are hungry", I commented. "Yes, it's always like this every feeding time", the teacher remarked.

Second scene. When the bell rang for the noonday break the children rushed out of the room and headed for the eating shed where they unpacked their "baon" and started eating. I saw that some children did not join their classmates but went to a shady area under a cluster of coconut trees. Curious, I approached a group of three who were gathered before a lump of cooked corn guts atop a sheet of banana leaf. All looked at me as if alarmed. Then the eldest, a girl, mumbled, "Mangaon ta, sir!" I said, "Thank you", my voice, I still remember, sounded strange for I felt a tightening in the throat when I saw that they had nothing but salt for viand.

After a long pause, I told the kids how good it was that brothers and sisters were eating their lunch together. Then I walked back slowly to the principal's office, feeling guilty inside.

These narratives were culled from my experience some years ago when I was with DepEd. I remembered these when I read about the department's food for school project, an intervention to the high incidence of malnutrition in schools.

Malnutrition among school children is really a major problem in the system. But few, including the local and national leadership in the last several years, have fully grasped the gravity of the problem. Because of this, the initiatives taken have been tentative and therefore ineffective.

How much, for instance, does the government allocate for such initiatives in the last three years? A measly P73 million (out of DepEd's P110 billion budget)! For insufficiency of funds, the five-year intervention program of the National Nutrition Council (1993-1998) barely made an impact in solving the problem. Here is the picture of the malnutrition incidence in schools: One out of every four pupils (age six to 10) is underweight, meaning, undernourished. This translates to eight million school children (out of the current enrolment of 13 million) whose health is below normal. In the high school the percentage is a little better: One out of every six students or 800,000 students. But the situation is still a cause of concern.

Talk of improving the achievement level of Filipino children. Talk of making our educational outputs at par with those of our Asian neighbors. Talk of a better and stronger nationhood. How can these be accomplished if many of our schooling young people are not getting enough food? We can give every child state-of-the-art learning materials, place him under top rate teachers, and house him in well-furnished classrooms. But if his capacity to learn is impaired by ill health, nothing happens.

Food for school? By all means, let there be more food in more schools, otherwise we shall continue to see what I saw years ago: Stunted and ill-fed children, the specter of hunger stalking them.