The government’s ambitious ₱20-per-kilo rice promise ignited hope in every Filipino household. To the struggling mother feeding five mouths, the senior citizen living on pension, the daily wage earner whose budget barely lasts a week—this pledge came as a big relief, a lifeline, and a sort of dignity to every struggling Filipino.

But hope, noble as it is, cannot stand alone. It must be rooted in reality. Because behind every grain of rice is a farmer—sunburned, knee-deep in mud, laboring with no guarantee that his harvest will feed his family, let alone the nation.

According to the Philippine Statistics Authority (PSA), the average cost of producing a kilo of palay rose by around seven percent—from ₱13.54 in 2023 to ₱14.52 in 2024. In Central Visayas, the cost ballooned to ₱19.73 per kilo, with the lowest cost recorded in Eastern Visayas ₱12.59. At these rates, expecting the government to sell rice at ₱20 per kilo borders on the miraculous, unless it is willing to absorb the financial hit. And it has—subsidizing the price to meet the ₱20 per kilo promise.

The farmgate price of palay has grown to ₱23.48 per kilo in 2024, an 18-percent increase from 2023. Encouraging, yes, but let’s not forget: Filipino farmers earned only ₱0.61 for every peso they spent on production last year. Imagine investing everything you have and gaining barely half back. That is the brutal reality our farmers live by.

So, how can the government sustain the ₱20-per-kilo rice without draining our national coffers dry?

First, the government must stop treating subsidies as band-aids and instead as investments. Targeted subsidies—like mechanization grants, fertilizer vouchers, and irrigation infrastructure—should be poured into high-cost regions. Farming must be modernized to lower production costs. This will help end the cycle of farmers borrowing for fertilizers and not having enough to repay the loan as there is barely enough left for food.

Second, the private sector must be mobilized not merely as buyers or middlemen but as co-investors. Agritech startups must be encouraged and supported. Corporations that support local farm cooperatives should be offered tax incentives. Public-private partnerships (PPPs) in post-harvest facilities need to curb wastage—one of the silent killers of farm profit margins.

Third, local government units must champion localized procurement. Why should rice travel hundreds of kilometers, accruing logistics costs, when nearby provinces produce enough? Buying local not only saves money, it revitalizes rural economies as well.

Fourth, revisit the Rice Tariffication Law. While it opened the gates to cheaper imports, it also affected local farmers as increased imports drove down domestic prices. Safeguard mechanisms, such as quotas for local procurement, must be implemented to ensure Filipino farmers aren’t competing against heavily subsidized foreign producers on an uneven playing field.

And lastly, transparency must reign. The billions allocated for agriculture must not disappear into bureaucratic black holes. Farmers need to see real, tangible support. The Filipino people deserve to know where every peso goes.

There is no doubt, the ₱20-per-kilo rice is a moral economic goal. But to achieve it, we must understand that rice cannot be made cheaper by simply setting prices. We must make its production genuinely affordable and sustainable for the farmers who grow it.

If we want rice that is affordable for the poor, it must first be profitable for the farmer. That is the paradox. That is the challenge. And that is the price of true food security.

It’s time we pay it—together—so the food we place on our tables is affordable and sustainable.