COMBINING THE AGRICULTURE AND FOOD INDUSTRIES FUNCTIONS

 COMBINING THE AGRICULTURE AND FOOD INDUSTRIES FUNCTIONS

Traditionally, the Department of Agriculture (DA) and the Department of Trade and Industry (DTI) have always been separate. One grows the food, the other helps process and market it. But here is my proposition: why not combine their overlapping functions into one? Why not create a new department—the Department of Agriculture and Food Industries (DAFI)—that would oversee the entire food supply chain, from farm to fork?

Why do I say this? Because agriculture is not just about planting rice or raising hogs. It is an industry—a full-fledged industry. And like all industries, it has a complete supply chain that includes processing, packaging, logistics, warehousing, financing, and marketing. We should stop saying that the Philippines is “an agricultural country,” as if agriculture is primitive and backward. We should start saying we are an industrial country where agriculture is one of our strongest industries.

A Missing Link in Governance

Right now, the DA focuses mainly on production, while the DTI oversees food-related industries such as processing, retail, and export promotion. The problem is that food security is no longer just about growing food—it is also about moving it, storing it, processing it, and even importing it when needed. Splitting these responsibilities across two departments creates gaps, overlaps, and inefficiencies.

Think about it. Farmers may produce a bumper crop, but if there are no cold storage facilities, efficient transport, or processing hubs, much of that harvest goes to waste. On the other hand, trade officials may promote food exports, but if they are not aligned with local farmers’ realities, we risk prioritizing foreign markets over domestic food security. A unified department could solve these disconnects.

Global Models

This is not a far-fetched idea. Other countries have already gone down this path:

• Brazil has the Ministry of Agriculture, Livestock and Food Supply (MAPA), which oversees farming, livestock, food safety, and exports under one roof. No silos, no turf wars.
  
  

• Singapore created the Singapore Food Agency, which regulates everything from urban farming to food imports and safety standards. For a land-scarce country, it is a matter of survival.
  
  

• The Netherlands runs the Ministry of Agriculture, Nature and Food Quality, which integrates agriculture, food industries, and environmental sustainability.
  
  

• India still has separate ministries, but they collaborate on mega-schemes like the Integrated Cold Chain program, linking farm output directly to processing hubs.
  
  

These examples show that combining agriculture and food industries is not only possible—it is often more effective.

The Case for DAFI

So what would a Department of Agriculture and Food Industries look like? Its mandate could cover:

1. Production: Strengthening farmers and fisherfolk with modern technologies, irrigation, and mechanization.
   
   

2. Processing: Supporting micro, small, and medium enterprises (MSMEs) in food processing and packaging.
   
   

3. Logistics & Storage: Expanding cold chain networks, warehouses, and farm-to-market roads.
   
   

4. Food Security: Balancing local production with responsible importation and buffer stock management.
   
   

5. Export Promotion: Branding Philippine agri-food products globally without compromising local supply.
   
   

The demarcation line would be clear: anything that touches the food supply chain belongs to DAFI; everything else stays with DTI.

Why This Matters Now

The pandemic taught us that a strong food system is just as important as a strong health system. Climate change is making food production less predictable. Global conflicts disrupt supply chains. And here at home, we face persistent problems of food wastage, farmer poverty, and price instability.

We cannot afford a fragmented approach anymore. Food security demands end-to-end oversight. And yes, national transformation begins with institutional transformation.

My Suggestion

If we want this idea to gain traction, we could start small. Pilot programs could integrate agriculture and food processing at the regional level, perhaps through “Food Industry Hubs” that link farmers, processors, traders, and exporters. Universities could be tapped for research, LGUs for local support, and cooperatives for operations.

And maybe, just maybe, we could convince Congress to draft a bill creating the Department of Agriculture and Food Industries.

Because food is not just a farm output—it is a national industry. And unless we manage it as such, we will keep stumbling from shortage to surplus, from overpriced imports to wasted local harvests.

So I ask again: why not merge agriculture and food industries into one? If Singapore, Brazil, and others can do it, why can’t we?

Ramon Ike V. Seneres, www.facebook.com/ike.seneres

iseneres@yahoo.com, senseneres.blogspot.com 

09088877282 01-10-2026

REPURPOSING BRINE FROM DESALINATION PLANTS TO MAKE SALINE WATER FISHPONDS

 REPURPOSING BRINE FROM DESALINATION PLANTS TO MAKE SALINE WATER FISHPONDS

At first, I thought I had stumbled upon an original idea—that the waste brine from desalination plants could be turned into something useful by repurposing it for aquaculture. To my surprise, I later discovered that this idea has already been tested in other countries. Instead of being disappointed, I was delighted. Why? Because it meant it was not only possible, but it had already been proven to work.

But why did I even think of this idea in the first place? The logic is straightforward. Desalination is one answer to the problem of dwindling freshwater supply. But desalination creates its own headache: brine. This highly concentrated salty wastewater is difficult to dispose of without harming the environment. So I thought, why not treat brine as a resource instead of a waste product? Why not use it to create controlled saline water environments where marine life can thrive—even far from the sea?

From Waste to Resource

The key is to mimic seawater conditions: adjusting the salinity, stabilizing the temperature, and neutralizing chemical residues from the desalination process. Once prepared, this “engineered seawater” can support fishponds for species like milkfish, shrimps, crabs, mollusks, or even seaweeds.

There are clear benefits:

1. Solves brine disposal. Instead of dumping brine back into the ocean (which increases coastal salinity and harms ecosystems), it is redirected for productive use.
   
   

2. Higher value aquaculture. Fish and crustaceans raised in saline water can command higher prices in niche markets.
   
   

3. Diversity of options. Saline ponds can host a broader range of marine species, opening new livelihood opportunities.
   
   

Real-World Proof

This is not a fantasy. In Brazil, a decade-long project in Bahia tested inland brine for tilapia farming, Spirulina cultivation, and irrigation of salt-tolerant shrubs (Atriplex) used as goat fodder. The result was a productive cycle: fish for food, Spirulina for supplements, fodder for livestock. It turned waste into wealth, though long-term soil salinization remained a challenge.

In the United Arab Emirates, which produces more than 20% of the world’s desalinated water, researchers are exploring “brine valorization” to grow halophyte crops like quinoa and barley, extract valuable minerals such as magnesium and lithium, and yes—support aquaculture. Their goal is clear: convert brine into a resource to support food security and sustainability.

Even Egypt and the Gulf countries are experimenting with brine reuse, though mostly at research or pilot scale.

Could We Do It Here?

In the Philippines, desalination is still mostly limited to resorts, islands, and some local government projects, but it will inevitably expand as freshwater scarcity worsens. The Philippines has over 7,600 islands, many with poor or seasonal freshwater supply. Desalination could soon be a necessity, not just an option.

This opens the door to innovation:

• Barangay-level aquaculture using modular saline ponds created from brine.
  
  

• Integration with halophytes like salicornia (sea asparagus), which could provide new income streams.
  
  

• University-led pilots. The UP College of Fisheries and Ocean Sciences in Miag-ao, Iloilo, or UP’s Marine Science Institute, could collaborate with BFAR and DOST to pilot small-scale projects.
  
  

Barriers to Overcome

Of course, challenges remain. Chemical residues from desalination pre-treatment must be neutralized. Soil salinization must be prevented with lined ponds and buffer zones. And not all species are equally suited—so research must guide farmers on which aquaculture systems make the most sense.

But the concept is sound: turn a waste problem into a livelihood solution.

Bigger Picture

If we think of desalination brine not as a toxic by-product but as a raw material, we align with the principles of the circular economy. In such a system, waste streams are redesigned as inputs for new processes. Brine could feed aquaculture, aquaculture effluent could irrigate halophytes, and halophytes could support livestock or biofuel production.

So here’s my question: Why wait? If Brazil and the UAE are already doing it, what is stopping us? Why not task BFAR to pilot a brine-to-fishpond project in partnership with LGUs and cooperatives? Why not allocate DOST research funds to this instead of leaving it buried in academic journals?

We could create a Philippine model for “brine farming,” adapted to our milkfish, shrimp, and even seaweed industries.

Because at the end of the day, it’s not just about preventing waste—it’s about seeing opportunities where others see problems.

Yes, desalination solves one problem while creating another. But if we are bold enough, we can turn that second problem into an even bigger solution.

Ramon Ike V. Seneres, www.facebook.com/ike.seneres

iseneres@yahoo.com, senseneres.blogspot.com 

09088877282 01-09-2026

IT FLOODS, BECAUSE IT RAINS

 IT FLOODS, BECAUSE IT RAINS

Many years ago, I interviewed an MMDA official on my radio program. Right there on the air, he told me—without batting an eyelash—that “it floods, because it rains.” At first, I thought I had misheard him. Surely, he must have meant something else. But no—he explained that he really meant what he said.

That moment has stayed with me, not because it was profound, but because it was profoundly wrong. Floods don’t happen simply because it rains. Rain is a natural part of life, a gift of God that nourishes the earth. Floods happen because we fail to manage the water that rain brings. By saying otherwise, the official was, in effect, blaming God for our mismanagement.

Let’s be clear: it is not God who created the conditions for our floods—we did.

How We Made Floods Worse

First, God gave us forests. Trees in the mountains absorb water, slow runoff, and release it gradually into rivers and streams. But what did we do? In just seventy years, we cut down what took God thousands of years to build. Without trees, water rushes down the slopes unchecked, overwhelming lowlands.

Second, God created watersheds—nature’s funnels that channel rainfall into rivers, lakes, or seas in a steady, manageable flow. Watersheds are not just lines on a map; they are living systems that regulate water, sustain biodiversity, and protect communities from floods. Yet we paved them over, built subdivisions on them, or clogged them with garbage. Once watersheds are destroyed, rainwater has nowhere to go but into our homes and streets.

Third, God created clean lands and waterways. We turned them into dumping grounds. Plastics and trash block esteros, rivers, and drainage canals, so that even a modest downpour now causes knee-deep floods. In Metro Manila alone, the MMDA estimates that 600 truckloads of garbage are pulled out of waterways every single day. That’s not rain’s fault—that’s ours.

Finally, God gave us the intelligence to design dams, canals, and levees to control water flow. Yet how many times have we heard of flood control budgets disappearing into the pockets of corrupt officials? We don’t just suffer from natural floods; we suffer from man-made ones, engineered by greed and neglect.

Why Watersheds Matter

A watershed is more than just an area where water collects. It is a living infrastructure for survival. Take the Marikina River Watershed and Laguna de Bay Basin. They are supposed to act as buffers for Metro Manila, regulating rainfall and serving as natural holding ponds. But when forests upstream are cut and garbage downstream piles up, these watersheds fail—and millions of us pay the price.

Healthy watersheds mean less flooding, cleaner water, more fisheries, and greater resilience to climate change. Destroyed watersheds mean more of the same headlines we see every rainy season: stranded commuters, submerged neighborhoods, and schools forced to close.

What Should We Do?

The answers are not new, but they are urgent:

• Bring back the forests in our uplands through massive reforestation.
  
  

• Restore our watersheds by cleaning and protecting them from further encroachment.
  
  

• Clean our lands and waterways by enforcing anti-dumping laws and building a real culture of waste management.
  
  

• Build flood control infrastructure honestly, ensuring budgets go to projects, not to pockets.
  
  

But beyond these technical fixes, there’s a moral one. We must stop selling our votes. Every time we elect corrupt politicians, we empower the very people who sabotage our flood control projects and environmental safeguards.

From Personal to National Transformation

Yes, we can change the world around us, but the transformation begins with us. If each of us decides to stop littering, to support reforestation, to hold officials accountable, and to vote responsibly, the floods will no longer feel inevitable.

So, please tell me again: why does it flood? Not because it rains. It floods because we failed to take care of our forests, our watersheds, our rivers, and our politics.

National transformation must begin with personal transformation. Only then can we stop blaming God for what we, ourselves, have broken.

Ramon Ike V. Seneres, www.facebook.com/ike.seneres

iseneres@yahoo.com, senseneres.blogspot.com 

01-08-2026

TURNING DESERT LANDS INTO FISHPONDS FOR AQUACULTURE

 TURNING DESERT LANDS INTO FISHPONDS FOR AQUACULTURE

Technically speaking, lahar-covered lands in the Philippines are not much different from desert lands. Both are barren, both resist farming, and both are often seen as wasted spaces. But what if, instead of seeing them as wastelands, we viewed them as opportunities?

In China, they have already proven that deserts can be turned into fishponds. In the Taklimakan Desert of Xinjiang, often called the “Sea of Death,” controlled environments have been built where seafood and even pearls are grown in synthetic saltwater systems. If they can do it in one of the harshest landscapes on Earth, why can’t we do the same in our lahar plains in Pampanga, Tarlac, or Zambales?

To be clear, I am not talking about freshwater fish ponds. I am talking about seawater aquaculture—farms for marine fish and shellfish, created inland by mimicking the chemical, biological, and ecological properties of the ocean. The technology is not science fiction. Aquaculture scientists already know how to recreate seawater: start with freshwater, add the right balance of marine salts, and carefully adjust salinity, temperature, and nutrients until the fish “believe” they are swimming in the sea.

In fact, commercial marine salt mixes already exist for aquariums and aquaculture, used worldwide by marine breeders. Add to that an aquamimicry approach—where beneficial bacteria, plankton, and probiotics are cultivated to simulate natural food chains—and you can have a thriving marine ecosystem, even far from the coast.

Why Do This?

The benefits are obvious. First, livelihoods. Fisherfolk and farmers displaced by lahar could be trained and employed in marine aquaculture. Second, food security. Our growing population needs more protein sources, and fish is still the cheapest and healthiest option for many families. Third, land use. Instead of letting lahar lands remain idle, we could convert them into productive aquaculture hubs.

China is already doing this on a massive scale. Their desert aquaculture farms are producing not only fish but also pearls, while their deserts also host solar megaprojects and eco-tourism initiatives. What was once barren is now a driver of local economies.

Can We Do It in the Philippines?

Why not? We have scientists and engineers. The Bureau of Fisheries and Aquatic Resources (BFAR) could lead the initiative, supported by the Department of Science and Technology (DOST) for technical research and the Department of Environment and Natural Resources (DENR) for land-use policies. State universities in Central Luzon could become training centers, while LGUs could provide the land and manpower.

Even TESDA could come in by developing specialized training programs for aquaculture technicians. After all, maintaining synthetic seawater systems requires monitoring salinity, pH, oxygen levels, and biological balance—skills that can be taught.

Challenges to Overcome

Of course, this won’t be simple. Building fishponds in lahar lands would require reliable water sources, energy for pumps and filtration, and constant technical supervision. Costs could be high at the beginning, but if China’s experience is any indication, these investments can pay off in the long term. Moreover, using renewable energy—say, solar farms in lahar areas to power aquaculture systems—could lower operating costs and make the initiative more sustainable.

A Strategic Opportunity

This is where systems thinking comes in. By combining aquaculture, renewable energy, and local livelihood, lahar lands could become self-sustaining eco-industrial zones. Imagine Pampanga not only exporting milkfish, but also producing shrimp, sea bass, or even oysters inland—using technology that turns waste land into wealth land.

The Philippines has always been blessed with coastlines, yet ironically we import some of our seafood because of overfishing and degraded marine habitats. Turning lahar lands into synthetic seawater fishponds would diversify production and lessen the pressure on our seas.

The Big Question

So, why not let us do it? Why not convert lahar-covered areas into marine aquaculture farms that create jobs, strengthen food security, and showcase Filipino ingenuity?

The land is there. The technology exists. The need is urgent. The only missing ingredient is leadership—the political will to launch pilot projects, bring agencies together, and invest in a bold vision.

If deserts in China can produce pearls, surely lahar lands in Pampanga can produce prawns.

Ramon Ike V. Seneres, www.facebook.com/ike.seneres

iseneres@yahoo.com, senseneres.blogspot.com 

01-07-2026

HYBRID COMPUTING FOR LOCAL GOVERNMENT UNITS

 HYBRID COMPUTING FOR LOCAL GOVERNMENT UNITS

Local Government Units (LGUs) today are caught between the devil and the deep blue sea when it comes to their computing infrastructure. On one hand, cloud computing offers the obvious advantages of scalability, remote access, and integration with the latest artificial intelligence (AI) tools. On the other hand, keeping sensitive data on-premises feels safer and more reassuring to many mayors and governors. Understandably so—after all, barangay-level records such as land titles, health files, and burial documents are not the kind of information one would want floating around in cyberspace, vulnerable to leaks or breaches.

But why make it an either/or choice when the best answer is both? Enter hybrid computing—a solution that blends the flexibility of the cloud with the security and control of on-premise systems. In my experience managing databases, this hybrid approach works, and it works well.

What Hybrid Computing Means for LGUs

In practice, hybrid computing means LGUs can store sensitive records locally while offloading analytics, big data crunching, and AI processing to the cloud. For example:

• Resident profiles and permits could be maintained securely on local servers.
  
  

• Flood risk predictions or traffic flow analysis could be powered by cloud-based AI, with the results sent back to LGUs in real-time.
  
  

• Healthcare diagnostics (like lung sound analysis or mobile x-ray readings) could be processed locally, then synced with cloud databases for broader epidemiological monitoring.
  
  

This dual system is especially important in the Philippines, where internet connectivity can be patchy. With hybrid computing, barangays can keep operating offline when the internet is down, and then sync with the cloud once the connection returns.

Practical Applications in the Local Setting

Think of the opportunities:

• Barangay Information Systems – A hybrid system can streamline issuance of clearances and permits while still keeping personal data secured.
  
  

• Disaster Response – Edge devices can track relief goods and evacuation numbers locally, while cloud dashboards allow national agencies to coordinate support.
  
  

• Traffic & Mobility – Sensors deployed in cities can record local traffic, with cloud analytics providing optimization strategies.
  
  

• Digital Governance – Citizens could request documents or track services through hybrid portals that combine local verification with cloud-based platforms.
  
  

The result? Faster service delivery, less paperwork, and greater transparency.

The AI Imperative

Here’s the bottom line: whether they like it or not, LGUs will have to embrace AI to meet the demands of governance in the 21st century. The population is growing, urban challenges are multiplying, and disasters are becoming more frequent. Without AI-driven insights, LGUs will always be reactive rather than proactive. Hybrid computing provides the perfect entry point because it allows cautious adoption—leaders don’t have to let go of their control over data, but they can still benefit from cloud-based intelligence.

Who Should Lead the Way?

This raises the question of leadership. Should the DILG mandate hybrid adoption for LGUs? Should the DICT provide the infrastructure and technical backbone? Should the DOST handle research and pilot projects, while TESDA trains local IT staff to manage hybrid systems? In reality, it will require all of them working together. Just as housing projects require DENR, DHSUD, and LGUs to coordinate, digital governance needs multi-agency synergy.

Steps Forward

I would suggest starting with pilot barangays. Train “tech stewards” who can manage both the local servers and cloud sync. Encourage universities and youth hackathons to co-develop hybrid solutions tailored to local problems—say, AI for traffic congestion in Quezon City, or predictive analytics for flooding in Pampanga. And most importantly, ensure interoperability with national databases like PhilSys, DOH, and DILG so that local data feeds seamlessly into the bigger picture.

The Bigger Picture

Hybrid computing isn’t just a technical fix; it’s a governance innovation. It offers data sovereignty without technological isolation. It keeps communities empowered while opening the door to national integration. And it provides a way for local governments to modernize responsibly, without gambling away security.

In the end, LGUs must ask themselves: Do we want to remain paper-heavy, reactive bureaucracies, or do we want to leap into a future where data drives better services? The hybrid path allows us to do both—to keep one foot on solid ground, and the other stepping confidently into the cloud.

Ramon Ike V. Seneres, www.facebook.com/ike.seneres

iseneres@yahoo.com, senseneres.blogspot.com 

01-06-2026