THE NUMBERS did not whisper—they shouted. According to the 2024 FLEMMS survey, only 68.4% of people in Iloilo Province and 70.7% in Iloilo City are functionally literate—the lowest in Western Visayas.
Once hailed as an academic stronghold, Iloilo now trails behind Aklan, Antique, Guimaras, and Capiz. And while “Functional literacy” may sound technical, its absence is deeply felt—a vendor miscounting change, a tricycle driver fooled by a contract, a jobseeker lost in a form, a voter swayed by empty slogans, a parent puzzled by a school memo, someone sharing fake news without knowing better, a worker unable to speak up clearly, a mother misreading a food label, a teen falling for online scams, a father confused by a child’s homework, a student struggling with a scholarship form, a kid mouthing lessons without meaning, or a small business owner signing a loan he barely understands.
When people struggle to read between the lines—or even the lines themselves—they become easier to fool, easier to hurt, and harder to hear.
To read and write is not enough. As UNESCO reminds us, functional literacy means using basic education to navigate daily life—comprehending, applying, communicating. Institute of Contemporary Economics (ICE) Executive Director Bonnie Ladrido put it bluntly in his recent post: “Houston, we have a problem.” Referring to the alarmingly low functional literacy rates in Iloilo, he pointed out that this is more than just an education crisis—it is a serious barrier to both economic progress and human development.
What stings more is Iloilo’s reputation as an academic hub. From Philippine Science High School–Western Visayas to Ateneo de Iloilo, ISA, INHS SpecSci, Assumption, UP Visayas, CPU, WVSU, JBLFU, USA, and ISATU, among many others, the province houses some of the country’s top institutions. Yet all the prestige and diplomas in the city cannot hide the painful truth in many barangays and towns, where too many children still struggle to read a simple sentence by age ten.
Ladrido emphasizes that functional literacy is essential for turning education into real opportunity. Without the ability to apply reading, writing, and numeracy in everyday life, a diploma alone cannot guarantee employment, productivity, or sound decision-making. This, he warns, risks becoming a structural weakness that could hold back not just individuals, but the region’s economic competitiveness.
Why are other provinces doing better? In Aklan, the “secret” is not really a secret—LGUs are hands-on, not just with funds but with follow-through. They set reading targets, monitor scores, and treat literacy not as a DepEd problem but as a shared mission. In contrast, Iloilo’s response leans heavily on construction: classrooms, fences, occasional giveaways. These are necessary, but not sufficient. Cement can build schools, but not comprehension.
Inside many classrooms, teachers—many of them deeply committed and competent—juggle students at vastly different reading levels with little to no remedial support. Tutorials? Scarce. Reading specialists? Sporadic. EdTech aids? Scattered. The system expects miracles from educators armed only with chalk, photocopied modules, and hope. Worse, the culture of mass promotion—quietly acknowledged by educators and laid bare in EDCOM 2’s Miseducation report—lets students move up the ladder without mastering the basics. It protects the numbers, not the learning.
But the cost is not just in grades—it is in confidence. (To be continued)/PN
