The 2026 national budget—set for ratification on Dec. 29—is the biggest in our history: ₱6.794 trillion. That’s ₱18.6 billion every single day, or ₱775 million every hour. On paper, it promises everything: classrooms, calamity response, rice subsidies, railways. But one question refuses to go away: Will this budget finally reach the barangay—or will it once again evaporate into the familiar fog of underspending, inefficiency, and untraceable disbursements?

The allocations are impressive. Education leads the pack, followed by infrastructure, health, and social protection. The Department of Public Works and Highways alone gets more than ₱900 billion. Yet only weeks ago, the Commission on Audit flagged billions in “ghost” flood control projects in Bulacan—projects that existed only on paper but were somehow fully paid for.

This is not an anomaly. It is a warning flare. It exposes a deeper sickness: a budget system that is technically sound but morally porous.

A national budget is not just a spreadsheet. It is a moral document. It reveals what we value, who we prioritize, and how seriously we take the common good. When classrooms remain unfinished, when health centers lack staff, when farmers wait months for fertilizer subsidies that never arrive—these are not mere administrative delays. They are breaches of public trust.

To be fair, the 2026 budget carries promising reforms: digitalized services, climate resilience programs, expanded support for micro-entrepreneurs. But these reforms will matter only if implementation is swift, transparent, and insulated from political patronage.

Passing a budget is easy. Delivering results is the real test. The challenge is to convert pesos into progress—especially for those who need it most.

As we gather with family this Christmas, we are reminded that governance, like gift-giving, is love made visible. The true measure of this ₱6.794 trillion budget is not its size, but its sincerity.

Will it build bridges—not just of concrete, but of trust? Will it pave roads—not just to cities, but to dignity?

The new year beckons. The people will be watching.

Last Dec. 19, Muntinlupa marked 108 years of quiet grit, shared purpose, and steady transformation. From its lakeside origins to its status today as a highly urbanized city, Muntinlupa’s story has never been about spectacle. It has always been about people.

Mayor Rufino “Ruffy” Biazon captured it well: “Progress is not just about infrastructure—it’s about how we treat our children, how we protect the vulnerable, and how we build trust in public service.”

Under his leadership, the city has earned, year in and year out, national recognition—from the 2025 Most Business-Friendly LGU award to top-tier rankings in child-friendly governance. These are not mere plaques on a wall. They are proof of a culture of integrity and service that runs deep—from barangay halls to classrooms, from health centers to volunteer brigades.

As Mayor Biazon emphasized, the theme “Katapatan at Kahusayan para sa Magandang Kinabukasan” is not a slogan. It is a covenant with every Muntinlupeño: a commitment to serve with honesty and excellence, especially for the next generation.

What makes Muntinlupa’s journey compelling is not only its economic rise, but its moral architecture. Excellence here is built daily—by teachers who stay late, nurses who go the extra mile, tanods who know every alley, and citizens who show up not just to vote, but to volunteer.

Mayor Biazon’s call is clear: Stay committed to these principles—not just for the next 108 years, but for every child who calls Muntinlupa home. ([email protected])