Signing up for a lottery game is usually a matter of choice, but for Filipino students, the gamble is mandatory. Similar to hopeful winners who pay a sum for a chance to win, laborers in the country also pay their taxes diligently—hoping their children will experience the quality education they deserve. However, persistent issues have turned basic commodities into luxuries, where entitlement to quality school furniture and equipment is now seen as a ‘grand prize’ in a never-ending game of odds.
A recent post on Threads has struck a chord of collective frustration across social media platforms. User ‘ca.arvin’ posted a photo of a new set of classroom furniture—chairs and tables—all in pristine condition. What caught the attention of many was not the quality of the furniture itself, but rather how they acquired it. The person behind the post revealed that they ‘won’ these classroom fixtures from a raffle. It was later unveiled that the given utilities were not sufficient for the entire school—thus, resorting to a raffle draw to choose who gets them.
The absurdity of the matter raises many questions: despite trillions of pesos poured into the education sector each year, how is it that the basic needs of Filipino learners are still treated as privileges rather than rights they are owed?
In the approved budget of the Department of Education (DepEd) for the year 2026, ₱85.3 billion is allocated to address the 165,000 classroom backlog in the country. While the amount is already a considerably small chunk of the total ₱1.015 trillion appropriation for the education sector, it is further diluted by a list of competing priorities—with new sets of basic classroom furniture absent from any explicitly designated allocation. While billions are set aside for laptops and new construction, basic classroom equipment is once again buried as a by-product of facility improvement.
While budgets prioritize what is visible, classrooms bear what is neglected. What good are newly furnished facilities when students continuously endure crumbling tables that can barely hold textbooks and squeaky chairs that threaten to collapse by the minute?
Moreover, the problem is beyond budget and appropriations; it extends to the procurement process—one that is not immune to the possibility of corruption. A few months ago, the Ombudsman filed graft, falsification, and perjury cases against the involved individuals of the 2021 procurement issue of DepEd laptops. The scrutiny came from reports that the devices were overpriced and underperformed relative to market standards. This isn’t just a one-time thing; rather, it suggests a grim reality.
Instances like this suggest that the budget in the education sector is not allocated as intended. Rather than being used to provide comfort and efficiency for learners, funds are instead pocketed by officials under the guise of inflated procurement costs. By manipulating the price tags, they ensure that while government reports reflect a completed transaction, the classrooms remain hauntingly empty—with long-standing issues remaining unattended.
When the system is plagued by greed, the normal becomes a blessing—basic rights mistaken for something heaven-sent.
Celebrating the bare minimum only reinforces the idea that basic necessities inside the classroom should be treated as a miracle—one that only happens once in a while. That being said, the blame should not be placed on teachers themselves. When they’ve grown accustomed to seeing their students endure the discomfort of wooden chairs or the seeping cold of the concrete floors, even the delivery of sturdy chairs and tables feels like a hard-won victory.
Despite this, we must not make it a practice to overgratify nor encourage these things.
This turns a standard obligation into a ‘charitable act’. It reinforces a dangerous idea that a child’s right to quality education and comfort is something to be raffled off or ‘won’ through luck, rather than a fundamental guarantee from the system itself.
Ultimately, it is high time the government starts prioritizing the education sector—not just on paper, but also in practice. Though it is written in the Constitution that education must yield the highest budget allocation, the fulfillment of this law must be coupled with the genuine intention of actually improving the academic landscape of the country. Reform does not only mean dumping a few more hundred millions into the fiscal pool; it means developing programs that would actually bring promises into life.
Education should not be a mandatory gamble Filipino students are forced to enter. The odds do not decide who gets to experience the comfort of a new chair, new desks, and a decent place to learn. It is time the system stops treating the learners’ rights as a game of chance and starts honoring the privileges they were promised.
Written by Gweneth Pablo (odile), Insight PH
Gweneth Pablo (odile), Insight PH is a dedicated campus journalist and contributor. Their insightful writing sparks meaningful conversations and keeps the community informed.
