“Unconditional cash transfers are built on the belief that people, even in poverty, know best what they need”
WE HEAR the same criticisms over and over again.
“Ayuda na naman.”
“They’re just waiting for handouts.”
“It’s always the same people benefiting.”
The programs people love to complain about — AICS, AKAP, MAIFIP — have become lightning rods for public skepticism.
In neighborhood conversations and family dinner tables, in comment sections and political talk shows, they are painted as wasteful, unsustainable, and enabling. We throw around words like dole-out or bandaid, as if those who receive them are somehow to blame for needing them in the first place.
But maybe we’ve misunderstood what these programs are doing.
Maybe we’re missing the deeper lesson behind the long lines and humble thank-yous.
Maybe what we’re really seeing is a glimpse of something our country has long needed but never quite named — a more trusting safety net.
We often talk about poverty as if it were a fixed identity. A statistic. A problem to solve.
But anyone who has walked through our poorest communities knows that poverty is rarely static.
It moves. It returns. It hides behind the decent-looking house with bare cupboards. It clings to the family that looks okay on paper but is just one bad week away from unraveling.
Most poor families are not passive. They work, they adapt, they survive. They are not waiting for help. They are trying to make do until help arrives. The tragedy is that by the time it does, it usually comes with strings.
We have built systems that see assistance as something to be earned.
Conditional programs like 4Ps have proven benefits. They keep children in school and promote access to healthcare.
But they also require people to fit into rigid molds. One missed checkup, one missed class, one missing document — and the support is reduced or delayed.
Too often, those who fall short are not irresponsible, but overwhelmed.
And then there are those who don’t qualify at all.
The elderly without dependents.
The solo parents of children with disabilities.
The informal worker whose job was lost in a flood.
They are not seen by the system. Their needs are just as urgent, but their eligibility is unclear.
What if we began from a different place?
What if we started with trust?
Unconditional cash transfers are built on the belief that people, even in poverty, know best what they need.
That a mother can decide whether her child needs food or medicine. That a driver can choose between buying fuel or paying off a loan. That people are not puzzles to solve, but lives to understand.
In Eastern Visayas, I’ve seen how trust transforms communities. When the government scaled up programs like AICS and AKAP, something shifted. Markets moved. Stores reopened.
Children stayed in school. People got through illness without pawning their phones. The economy didn’t recover from the top.
It recovered from the street corner, the sari-sari store, the market stall. It came alive from the ground up.
When cash flows to the poor, it doesn’t sit still. It circulates. It uplifts. It generates not just spending, but stability. It allows people to stop living crisis to crisis and start planning for tomorrow.
We will, of course, be asked the usual question: can we afford this?
But the better question is: what do we choose to afford?
We pour billions into roads, intelligence funds, offices, and subsidies for those already thriving. We let budgeted money go unused year after year. So perhaps the real issue isn’t fiscal space. It’s political will.
Building a more trusting safety net does not mean abandoning rules. It means making room for reality. It means recognizing that help should not humiliate. That support should not feel like a test.
That assistance, when delivered with respect, can do more than relieve suffering. It can restore agency. It can spark recovery.
Governance is not just about control. It is also about care.
And perhaps that is what unconditional cash transfers truly offer. Not charity. Not indulgence. But justice. A quiet recognition that dignity should never be conditional.
If we are to build a nation where no one falls too far, we must stop treating the poor as suspects. We must stop designing systems around fear. We must build on trust.
Because a more trusting safety net does not make people dependent.
It helps them rise.
