FLOATING GARDENS AND HOUSES ON STILTS

FLOATING GARDENS AND HOUSES ON STILTS

Is this what our future is going to look like?
With climate change accelerating, sea levels rising, and floods becoming the “new normal,” I think we should at least entertain the possibility. And if that future does come, it won’t be entirely unfamiliar. After all, floating gardens and houses on stilts already exist—not only in faraway places, but right here in the Philippines.

In many ways, these designs are not futuristic at all; they are ancient, time-tested responses to living with water rather than against it. The Bajau Laut in the Sulu Archipelago have lived in stilt houses above coral-rich shallows for centuries. In Bangladesh, floating gardens—known as dhap—keep food production going even during months of flooding. In Myanmar’s Inle Lake, floating tomato farms stretch across the horizon. And in Mexico, the Aztec chinampas remain as living proof that agriculture can thrive on water.

So if others have done it, why can’t we?

But here’s the bigger question: Should we change the way we build and farm? I think the real answer is yes—if the alternative is to continue building houses on land that is repeatedly submerged, or farming on plains that turn into lakes every rainy season. Maybe the problem is not that the water is rising, but that we haven’t risen to meet the challenge.

If floating gardens can secure food supply even in flood-prone areas, shouldn’t they be part of our national conversation on food security? Imagine low-cost rafts made of bamboo, coconut lumber, and water hyacinth—materials we already have in abundance—producing vegetables year-round. Countries like Bangladesh and South Sudan are already doing this out of necessity. Why aren’t we?

Of course, floating gardens are not the only solution. Vertical farms—stacked, climate-controlled, soil-free—are no longer sci-fi. Singapore is doing it. Japan is doing it. Even Manila has a few small prototypes. If we combine high-density housing with vertical farming, then the skyscrapers of the future could be more than just condos. They could be places where people live, work, farm, shop, exercise, even pray—all in the same building. Some modern condominiums already hint at this model, with rooftop gardens, hydroponics, and co-working spaces.

If rising water forces us to rethink our architecture, why not rethink it boldly?

But for any of this to happen, we need something the government rarely does well: looking ahead. We need building codes that allow houses on stilts—not as an exception, but as a legitimate urban design option. We need agricultural programs that support floating gardens as much as traditional farmland. We need zoning laws that understand that some areas will always flood, and instead of resisting water, we should adapt around it.

The future may be wet—but that doesn’t mean it has to be bleak. Our ancestors lived in harmony with water; maybe we’re the ones who forgot how. If we revive that wisdom and combine it with modern science, the Philippines could become a global model for climate-adaptive living.

We can choose to be victims of rising waters—or we can become architects of a floating future.

RAMON IKE V. SENERES

www.facebook.com/ike.seneres iseneres@yahoo.com senseneres.blogspot.com 09088877282/06-27-2026

WHAT IS THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN FLOOD CONTROL AND FLOOD MANAGEMENT?

 WHAT IS THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN FLOOD CONTROL AND FLOOD MANAGEMENT?

Flooding is becoming an all-too-familiar nightmare in our country, but it seems our understanding of how to deal with it hasn’t caught up. We keep talking about flood control, but what we truly need—and what we rarely deliver—is flood management.

To put it simply: flood control means building things to stop flooding. Think dams, levees, floodwalls, retention basins—the physical, structural defenses. On the other hand, flood management is smarter. It’s holistic. It combines those very structures with policy, planning, early-warning systems, smart zoning, and community preparedness.

In other words, flood control is just one piece of the puzzle. It’s like elementary school: basic, essential, but limited. Flood management, by contrast, is graduate school—it demands deeper thinking, systems-level solutions, and long-term strategy.

So why has our Congress focused almost exclusively on flood control? Why the obsession with concrete dikes and ditches? Because flood control is tangible, visible. It shows up in the budget, in construction contracts, in ribbon-cutting ceremonies. But that visibility can also be a smokescreen. There have been repeated reports of substandard flood control works, overpriced projects, even “ghost” projects. 

The Department of Public Works and Highways (DPWH) has admitted that we don’t yet have a genuine, integrated master plan for floods. We’re doing piecemeal projects—dikes here, drainage channels there—but no coordinated nationwide strategy. That fragmented approach speaks volumes about how shallow our interventions are.

Meanwhile, politicians like Senator Juan Miguel Zubiri have called out this piecemeal budgeting as a major problem. Rather than a few big, well-designed programs, what we get is scattered funds for projects that may or may not work. And critics argue that many of these projects serve the interests of contractors more than the safety of communities. Senator Panfilo Lacson has long warned of corruption and anomalies in flood control funds. 

So yes, it’s time we moved beyond just building dikes. We need flood management—a smarter, broader, more resilient system. Here’s what that would look like:

1. Integrated planning across agencies — Local governments, national agencies, and communities must coordinate. Flood management isn’t just DPWH’s job.
   
   

2. Land‐use policy and zoning — We should discourage settlements in flood-prone areas. Instead, we should direct growth toward safer zones.
   
   

3. Early-warning systems and community education — Technology matters. Alerts, evacuation routes, flood drills—all of these save lives, not just infrastructure.
   
   

4. Nature-based solutions — Restore wetlands, reforest riverbanks, rehabilitate floodplains. These act as natural sponges when the rains come.
   
   

5. Advanced technological tools — Flood prediction can be strengthened by data analytics, AI, even satellite monitoring. We can also use fluid-dynamics models to understand how water moves through our systems.
   
   

6. Policy reform backed by legislation — Bills being discussed in Congress already reflect this. 

We must spread the responsibility, not just leave it to DPWH to drop concrete where water flows. That’s what flood management calls for: a system that is both structural and adaptive. It requires long-term vision, multi-party cooperation, and yes, brighter minds.

If we continue treating flood control as our endgame, we will keep repeating the same mistakes. But if we embrace flood management—real, integrated, people-centered flood management—we just might break the cycle of flood disaster in this country.

“Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.” It's a reminder that changing outcomes requires changing structures, feedback loops, or mental models—not just repeating actions within the same paradigm.

RAMON IKE V. SENERES

www.facebook.com/ike.seneres iseneres@yahoo.com senseneres.blogspot.com 09088877282/06-26-2026

WHAT ARE RIVER BASINS?

 WHAT ARE RIVER BASINS? 

Have we forgotten about our river basins? To say the least: our priorities have shifted. But as the rains lash our towns and rivers swell, it’s high time to revisit the importance of river basins.

A river basin is not just a piece of geography — it’s the land drained by a river and its many tributaries. Think of it as a giant bowl: all the rain, runoff, everything coming down the hills, collecting into that basin, eventually flowing into a main river and out to the sea. These basins are lifelines: they feed our water supply, support agriculture, nurture ecosystems, and help regulate floods.

Yet, sadly, we’ve neglected them. In many places, river basin areas have been converted into housing. Some have become bustling subdivisions or developments. The moment we built on these natural catchments, we contorted nature’s own drainage system — and we must pay the price when floods come.

That raises a critical question: what do we do with people already living in these high-risk zones? Do we uproot them? Evict thousands? That’s not just impractical, it’s deeply unjust. Professor Segundo “Doy” Romero, a political scientist, proposes a more humane solution: build houses on stilts. Practical, yes — but what about those who can’t afford such options? Are we asking them to leave?

For me, though, the more fundamental question is: how do we prevent the flooding in the first place? It’s not enough to react. We need to tame the water, guide it, not fight it blindly.

One concrete step: Local Government Units (LGUs) must seriously adopt Geographic Information Systems (GIS) in their land-use planning. With GIS, they can map out exactly where river basins lie, trace how water flows, and identify vulnerable zones. This is not theoretical — flood-risk research in the Philippines has already used GIS to map multiple basins like Cagayan, Agno, and Mindanao. 

But will we actually get better at controlling floods? My gut says yes — but only if we manage them like wild horses: not by trying to lock them away, but by training them, channeling them, guiding them so they don’t run amok.

There are encouraging signs. The ADB, working with the DPWH, is rolling out flood risk management master plans for several river basins, including Mindoro’s Mag-Asawang Tubig, the Agno River, and others. Nature-based solutions are part of the mix: restoring old river channels, planting vegetation along riverbanks, even reforesting parts of watersheds. 

We also need deeper, context-specific studies — econometric analyses and flood modeling that tell us not only how much water flows, but why, when, and where. Can we revive the natural absorptive power of floodplains? Are there cost-effective ways to retrofit existing communities — like stilted homes — especially for the most vulnerable?

At the root of this is governance. River basins don’t respect political borders, but our planning often does. LGUs shape their Comprehensive Land-Use Plans (CLUPs) based on barangay or municipal boundaries, not hydrological ones. When that happens, drainage, conservation, disaster risk — everything — becomes fragmented. We need basin-level governance, where upstream and downstream are not adversaries, but partners.

Let’s also remember that our river basins are not just physical systems — they are socio-ecological systems. They store water, yes, but they also sustain communities, wildlife, traditions. The Cagayan River Basin, for example, is home to species like the ludong fish and even rare forest-dwelling birds. 

So, what must we do now?

1. Strengthen GIS-based land-use planning in every LGU.
   
   

2. Promote nature-based flood resilience: reforest headwaters, restore floodplains, incentivize conservation over development.
   
   

3. Explore adaptive housing solutions, like houses on stilts, especially for people in flood-prone zones.
   
   

4. Push for basin-wide governance frameworks — not just local plans, but integrated water-and-land management.
   
   

5. Invest in research — flood risk mapping, econometric studies, early-warning modeling.
   
   

Have we forgotten about river basins? I believe we have — but the floods are reminding us, quite literally, where we went wrong. The challenge now is not just to protect lives, but to restore a balance between our communities and nature’s water highways. If we succeed, we might finally tame the wild horses of flooding.

RAMON IKE V. SENERES

www.facebook.com/ike.seneres iseneres@yahoo.com senseneres.blogspot.com 09088877282/06-25-2026

HOW IS FOOD SECURITY DEFINED? HOW IS IT MEASURED?

HOW IS FOOD SECURITY DEFINED? HOW IS IT MEASURED?

When we talk about food security, we must first understand what it truly means: “all people, at all times, have physical, social, and economic access to sufficient, safe, and nutritious food that meets their dietary needs and food preferences for an active and healthy life.” That is not my paraphrase, but the definition adopted by the 1996 World Food Summit — and it remains the gold standard today.

Food security is not a simple concept. It rests on four pillars:

1. Availability: Is there enough food produced or imported?
   
   

2. Access: Can people afford and physically reach that food?
   
   

3. Utilization: Can they absorb its nutrients — which depends on health, sanitation, and food quality?
   
   

4. Stability: Are the first three dimensions reliable over time, or do shocks — like natural disasters or price spikes — disrupt them?
   
   

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Measuring Food Security: A Scientific Approach

Globally, organizations use a battery of indicators to monitor food security:

• The Global Food Security Index (GFSI) ranks countries on affordability, availability, quality and safety, and resilience.
  
  

• The Food Insecurity Experience Scale (FIES), developed by the FAO, captures individuals’ lived experiences — whether they’ve worried about food, skipped meals, or gone without preferred foods.
  
  

• Nutrition is measured through anthropometric indicators like stunting, wasting, underweight in children, and micronutrient deficiencies.
  
  

At the household level, tools like the Household Food Insecurity Access Scale (HFIAS), Dietary Diversity Scores (DDS), and Coping Strategies Index (CSI) help analyze how families respond when food is scarce.

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The Philippine Reality: Is It Enough to Count Rice?

In the Philippines, the picture is more complicated — and somewhat troubling. While the official definition of food security emphasizes nutrition, the national conversation often reduces security to how much rice we stockpile. Why is it that “months of rice inventory” frequently dominates headlines?

To me, that seems like a very narrow measurement for something as complex and human as food security.

In reality, the Philippines does measure more than rice stockpiles:

• The Philippine Statistics Authority (PSA) uses food security indicators that include availability, access, and utilization.
  
  

• The Food Insecurity Experience Scale (FIES) is implemented locally to gauge how many Filipinos face moderate or severe food insecurity.
  
  

• The World Food Programme (WFP) runs mobile Vulnerability Analysis and Mapping (mVAM) via phone surveys across the country. Their October 2022 report found that about 1 in 10 households were food insecure. 

• For dietary quality, the Dietary Diversity Score and child malnutrition rates (stunting, wasting) remain central to our national assessments.
  
  

Yet despite these tools, many Filipinos end up surviving on unhealthy, unbalanced diets: instant noodles loaded with sodium, plain rice sprinkled with salt, or — shockingly — even recycled food waste (“pag-pag”). These are not just calorie concerns. They are nutrition concerns.

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The Big Question: Why Isn’t Nutrition Center Stage?

If our food security definition requires nutritious food, shouldn’t nutritious food be at the center of how we measure it?

I cannot help but ask: Is our national measurement aligned with this global definition — or are we simplifying food security into mere food quantity?

If we truly want to meet that global standard, perhaps we need a more scientific and holistic approach, not just counting rice.

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Suggestions & Reflections

• The government should prioritize dietary diversity and nutrition metrics more visibly in its food security reporting, not just rice stocks.
  
  

• Local governments (LGUs) can adopt FIES, mVAM, or dietary diversity tools in barangay-level assessments.
  
  

• We need public education on more nutritious food alternatives — and policies that make healthy diets affordable, especially for low-income households.
  
  

• Investment in infrastructure, cold chains, and local production (vegetables, legumes, fish) must be accelerated — so people can access varied, healthy foods.
  
  

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In short: food security is not just about “do we have enough food?” It is about “do we have good food, all the time, for everyone?” Until we measure it that way — not just by how much rice sits in our warehouses — we risk giving ourselves a false sense of security.

Let’s measure what matters.

RAMON IKE V. SENERES

www.facebook.com/ike.seneres iseneres@yahoo.com senseneres.blogspot.com 09088877282/ 06-24-2026