Mother Knows Best

Beyond the soft gleam of morning sunshine peeking through the curtains, the buzzing alarm clock rings. Half-awake, I squint at the ceiling, stretching and yawning after spending the entire night preparing for the final examination. Then, like clockwork, a familiar voice echoes from the other room.

“Anak, bangon na. Kumain ka na para magkaroon ka ng lakas para sa exam mo.”

And I wonder—what does food have to do with my exam? Does it feed me the knowledge I desperately tried to memorize last night? Technically, no. But my mother knew something I did not—a child cannot learn well when hunger is louder than the lesson.

This simple reminder from a mother’s kitchen mirrors a much larger effort taking place in classrooms across the country. President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. and Education Secretary Sonny Angara visited Pulilan, Bulacan, to launch the expanded School-Based Feeding Program (SBFP) at Pulilan Central School. The program aims to provide nutrition support to Kindergarten and Grade 1 learners in public schools nationwide, recognizing that proper nutrition is not separate from education—it is part of it.

After all, mothers have always known that sending a child to school means more than packing notebooks into a bag. Sometimes, it means making sure there is food in the stomach, too. But the plate served to a child carries more than nourishment. Behind every serving of pechay, squash, string beans, or tomatoes is another story—the story of the farmers who planted them.

By encouraging schools to procure locally produced agricultural products, the feeding program can also provide a steadier market for farmers who often struggle with unstable prices and uncertain income. It is almost like the advice of a mother, extended beyond the walls of a home: take care of what keeps you going. One meal, then, feeds more than one future. It feeds a child who needs the energy to learn and a farmer who needs a market for the harvest that keeps communities alive.

For parents struggling to stretch every peso until the end of the month, the program offers another kind of relief. Nutritious food does not always come cheap, and for some families, providing a complete meal can mean sacrificing another household necessity.

“Alam kong nakakakain nang maayos ang anak ko kahit kapos kami,” says Rosa Santos, a relieved mother.

Her words sound familiar perhaps because mothers have always worried about the same things—whether their children have eaten, whether they are healthy, whether they have enough strength to face another day.

The difference is that for some families, asking “Kumain ka na ba?” is not as simple as it sounds. Sometimes, there simply is not enough food to answer yes. That is where a feeding program becomes more than a government project. It is not merely about calories, vegetables, or a plate of food. It is about making sure that a child does not have to choose between learning and hunger.

As Education Secretary Sonny Angara puts it, “Good nutrition is one of the foundations of quality education and learner success.”

Mothers have understood this long before it was written into a policy. They know that a tired child needs rest. A sick child needs care. And a hungry child needs food before anything else. After all, what good is a brilliant mind if the body carrying it is running on empty?

They say, “Health is wealth.” But what is wealth without health? Ironically, no one gets to bring their mansion, their Lamborghini, or their overflowing bank account six feet underground. And the reviewer memorized word for word the night before will not be much help if your stomach is growling louder than your teacher’s lecture.

I used to get a tiny bit frustrated whenever my mother reminded me to eat. It made me feel like I was still a child who needed to be told when to sleep, when to wake up, and, apparently, when to put food in my mouth.

Back then, I thought she was simply being a mother. Now, I realize she was teaching me something. She was reminding me that before I could fill my mind with formulas, facts, and answers, I had to take care of the person carrying them.

And that is what mothers have always known best. Nurturing a child does not begin when the teacher enters the classroom. It begins at home, at the dining table, with a simple question that may sound ordinary but carries an entire world of care.

“Anak, kumain ka na?”

Because sometimes, nurturing the future does not begin with a textbook, a classroom, or even a lesson plan. Sometimes, it begins with a mother making sure her child has enough strength to face tomorrow. After all, a mother knows best.