Assalamu alaikum wa Rahmatullahi wa Barakatuh.

Every Sept. 2 sends me back to the same thought: peace isn't something made in a single moment. It takes years — institutions willing to keep showing up, communities willing to be served, and people choosing, again and again, to build instead of tear down.

The 1976 Tripoli Agreement was where it started. It was a major turning point in the peace process between the Government of the Philippines and the Moro National Liberation Front. Twenty years later, on Sept. 2, 1996, that early promise finally had a signature behind it, when the government and the MNLF signed the Final Peace Agreement for its full implementation, with the Organization of Islamic Cooperation as witness. It set the terms for autonomy, development, and a path home for former combatants. I don’t think of these as dates in a textbook. I think of them as a promise we're still keeping, one that only means something when it's felt in people’s everyday lives, not just declared on paper.

During my years as secretary of the Department of Budget and Management (DBM), I learned that the government keeps its promises with resources and not just words. Peace, if it's going to be real, has to be paid for. Thus, in 2023, I signed the release of ₱5 billion for Bangsamoro Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao’s (BARMM’s) Special Development Fund—annually allocated for a decade since the ratification of the Bangsamoro Organic Law—to rebuild what conflict had broken.

We, at the DBM, also allocated ₱80.6 billion for BARMM in FY 2024 — the Annual Block Grant, the Special Development Fund, and the region's rightful share of national taxes and fees. Alongside it, the budget set aside ₱5.3 billion for the PAyapa at MAsaganang PamayaNAn (PAMANA) Program, to rebuild roads and infrastructure in communities which conflict once tore apart, and ₱1 billion for the Marawi Siege Victims Compensation Program.

Numbers like these matter, but a budget only means something once it reaches people. That’s why the recruitment of former MNLF and MILF members into the Philippine National Police stayed with me. I watched men and women who once pointed rifles at each other pin on the same badge and walk the same beat. That's not a policy line. That’s peace taking root.

My time with the Intergovernmental Relations Body (IGRB) taught me something similar: peace survives because institutions keep choosing to sit at the same table, argue through their differences, and still walk out united. The activation of seven IGRB mechanisms did exactly that, strengthening cooperation between the National Government and BARMM. It reminded me of something I still carry with me: development and peace can't be separated. Communities need roads and public services, sure, but they also need capital, markets, and real chances to earn. People with stable livelihoods have more to protect, more to give, and more reason to trust the institutions meant to serve them.

These days I’m in a different seat—as the first woman Chairperson and CEO of Al-Amanah Islamic Investment Bank of the Philippines. Nonetheless, I believe it is the same work, really, just a different desk, still chasing a peaceful and prosperous Mindanao.

Back in June 2026, Al Amanah met with the Bangsamoro Ministry of Agriculture, Fisheries and Agrarian Reform (MAFAR) to strengthen MAFARLENDS, the MAFAR Loan for Enhancement of Necessary Development Strategies. It's a small program, but to me it's proof that this vision is already taking shape, opening up financing to farmers, fisherfolk, cooperatives, and associations across the region.

Just this August, we partnered with the Ministry of Trade, Investments and Tourism–Basilan to expand Shari’ah-compliant financing for MSMEs in Sumisip. Twenty local businesses went through training in marketing, costing, and bookkeeping, preparing them for financing between ₱20,000 and ₱500,000 through Qard Al-Hasan and Wakala facilities.

What moves me about these initiatives is what they show: peace, once the signing ceremonies are done, can look like a farmer finally able to access capital, a fisherfolk cooperative growing its livelihood, a small business owner in Basilan gaining the confidence and the resources to grow.

There's still so much work ahead. The peace process has never moved in a straight line, and no single institution can carry it alone. But I believe we strengthen it every time we make economic opportunity part of the peace dividend.

Beyond budget, I've come to understand that public service is really about giving people the means to shape their own future. A national budget lays the foundation; a financial institution helps people build on it. My mission now is bringing Shari'ah-compliant finance closer to the communities that need it most, and helping build a Bangsamoro economy that is resilient, inclusive, and full of opportunity.

As CCEO Mina, I carry one hope: that the agreements we remember every Sept. 2 keep finding their way into the lives of our people — not just through peace and security, but through decent livelihoods, thriving enterprises, empowered communities, and a future our children will be proud to inherit.