Dressed up on empty stomachs

Ma. Theresa Malanyaon

“Makulay ang buhay sa sinabawang gulay!” 

This familiar jingle rings through classrooms every July as schools across the Philippines kick off Nutrition Month with festive parades and performances. One of the most anticipated traditions, especially in elementary schools, is the vegetable costume showcase, where students dress up as carrots, tomatoes, eggplants, and other leafy greens, often using recycled materials to craft imaginative, food-themed outfits. 

Originally designed to promote healthy eating and reduce children’s aversion to vegetables, these activities aim to reframe nutrition as something joyful, creative, and worth celebrating.

Each costume, in theory, stands for something greater: the essential nutrients a child needs, the right to access proper meals, and the value of being educated about food choices. But in the Philippines, where millions of children attend school on an empty stomach, these symbols begin to feel hollow. The bright colors and choreographed dances often mask the more sobering truths — poverty, chronic hunger, underfunded feeding programs, and the limited reach of existing nutrition policies.

Nutrition Month, as declared under Presidential Decree No. 491, Section 7, was meant to promote awareness and action by designating July as a time to highlight the importance of nutrition. But when celebrations focus on spectacle rather than substance, they risk becoming yearly performances that highlight what is ideal while ignoring what is real.

Thereafter, does Nutrition Month still bear the same vibrancy as the vegetables it showcases, or has that color long faded?

A performance in practice

Year after year, Nutrition Month in schools unfolds like a well-rehearsed routine. It gives the impression of something done with heart and intention. Poster and slogan making contests, essay competitions, cooking demonstrations, and themed exhibits fill the calendar. Classrooms host seminars on healthy eating, where students recite food groups and memorize slogans about balanced diets. Hallways are lined with food pyramids and “Go, Grow, Glow” collages. On paper, these activities check all the boxes of an effective health campaign.

In line with national directives, schools also follow certain policies meant to promote health. For instance, the DepEd Order No. 13, s. 2017 restricts the sale of soft drinks, junk food, and other unhealthy items within school premises. Canteens are encouraged or required to serve healthier alternatives, such as fruits, vegetables, and fortified snacks. The order is part of a broader effort to combat rising rates of childhood obesity and malnutrition in the country.

But beyond these policies, there is an evident gap between the system and the actualization of the visual efforts and paperwork. While the aforementioned activities seem to really apply the values of what a Nutrition Month advocates, we fail to give a touch of customization that adheres to our country’s needs. And so, the actual impact remains questionable. 

Despite the junk food ban within the school premises, we should acknowledge the lack of control that exists outside. It’s not uncommon to find vendors right in front of school gates selling “chichirya,” processed meat snacks, and sugary drinks, best known to be “tusok-tusok” and “palamig.” These items are often cheaper and more filling than the limited options inside canteens. Enforcement is inconsistent, and in some cases, entirely ignored.

One of the most pressing loopholes in these implementations is the limited capacity of students and their families to sustain an ideal diet at home. If the government fails to extend its reach beyond school policies and address the root issues of food access and affordability, then aren’t these efforts merely a facade — something to satisfy Nutrition Month on paper, but not in practice?

Piled up policies yet unfilled plates

Over the years, the government, in coordination with the Department of Education, has launched programs and issued guidelines aimed at improving children’s nutritional well-being. Among the most prominent is Republic Act 11037, or the Masustansyang Pagkain para sa Batang Pilipino Act, which mandates a national feeding program for undernourished children in public daycare centers and elementary schools. In the record, it guarantees regular meals using locally sourced ingredients while involving local government units (LGUs) in implementation. However, many schools continue to rely on inconsistent funding, external donations, and short-term solutions that hinder sustainability. Not all barangays are equipped to implement the program effectively, and coverage remains uneven.

“Feeding program is helpful especially to those pupils who are less fortunate. They are given proper nutrition through this program that helps them cope with the lessons,” says Sir Nathan Tulod, a public elementary school teacher in Manila. 

“It’s somehow effective to others. But not to everyone because there are many factors affecting the learning of the pupils,” he added.

Ma’am Shiela Vidal, who has been teaching in a public elementary school for 21 years, shares a similar view. While she acknowledges the benefits of the program, she points out that it often lacks long-term support necessary to make a sustained impact.

These are the people on the frontlines of such programs. And while implementation is visible, their accounts reveal critical gaps that reduce these efforts to short-term fixes. The feeding program may help students get through a day, but not necessarily through the entirety of their schooling journey. It nourishes, yes, but only for the moment. 

Moreover, this disconnect between policy and reality is reflected in data. The 2023 National Nutrition Survey (NNS) shows that while some progress has been made, malnutrition among Filipino children remains a significant concern. Specifically for pre-school age children, the report highlights that stunting continues to affect 23.6% children under five years old while wasting remains a concern at 5.6%. Also, 15.1% of children are underweight. These figures underscore persistent nutritional issues affecting kindergarten and elementary students in the Philippines.

Given the current nutritional status of the country, the Philippine Plan of Action for Nutrition (PPAN) 2023–2028 aims to address and reduce malnutrition through unified action across sectors. Backed by agencies like UNICEF, it focuses on long-term solutions. However, actual implementation remains limited by budget constraints, uneven local capacity, and gaps in coordination. These challenges prevent the program from reaching its full potential, illustrating how national plans can fall short when not supported by consistent groundwork on the ground.

And that is exactly what Nutrition Month often boils down into, a fleeting movement for health and dietary rather than a sustained and transformative one.

Nutrition-rooted futures

If so, Nutrition Month, held every school year, risks becoming irrelevant if it fails to meaningfully address the country’s deeper nutritional problems. The festivities may offer temporary excitement, but they leave behind the same empty stomachs and undernourished learners once the banners are taken down. This calls for action beyond awareness. Nutrition Month must integrate long-term solutions like equitable food access, inclusive feeding programs, school gardening initiatives, and budget-friendly meal planning. It should involve families, LGUs, and barangay kitchens while also strengthening the curriculum to treat nutrition not just as an annual theme, but as a basic right. 

To move forward, Nutrition Month needs to return to its deeper purpose: ensuring food security for all children, not just raising awareness. Organizations like the Food and Nutrition Research Institute (FNRI), Save the Children Philippines, and initiatives like DepEd’s Gulayan sa Paaralan Program suggest scalable, community-driven practices — such as setting up school gardens linked with barangay feeding centers, offering meal planning workshops tailored to local incomes, and integrating nutrition into livelihood training for parents. These solutions anchor nutrition to be built into daily life and local systems.

Alongside these big organizations are the local initiatives that lie in the hands of youth and charity work. One of these is CharityPhilippines.org, which supports Adopt-a-School programs by various schools, namely Sta. Rosa Elementary School in Tarlac and Kaysuyo National High School in Cavite. These projects provide school supplies, feeding support, and health campaigns. Their work proves that help does not always have to come from national programs; there is a wide network of civic action ready to contribute to better food access and child welfare, if only tapped consistently and systemically.

More than a taste of health

The vibrancy of Nutrition Month can still flourish, even in the humble spaces of our own backyards where vegetables take root with care. But for it to matter, it must move beyond staged celebrations and reflect the deeper nutritional needs of our country. Let its energy last all year, not just in July. Our children deserve more than just a taste of health — they deserve futures nourished by consistent, affordable, and sustainable food. After all, real colors bloom not only in gardens, but in full stomachs and dignified lives. 

The country already has a powerful blueprint on hand — comprehensive policies, tested programs, and grassroots initiatives that can shape a healthier future. What’s needed now is a steady hand to carry them through, supported by political will, sustained funding, and genuine community engagement. The plans have long been drawn; it is action that falls behind. As Nutrition Month passes with familiar jingles and long-practiced traditions, the challenge is to make the impact last longer, reach deeper, and truly add life to every Filipino child.

If actions lack substance, the practice becomes repetitive, offering no real progress. This year’s theme, “Sa PPAN: Sama-sama sa Nutrisyong Sapat Para sa Lahat!,” is a timely reminder that nutritional equity is a shared responsibility and a right. 

The state of Filipino nutrition demands more than tradition; it calls for transformation. Children’s lives matter, and so does their health.