Starting them young

SANGGUNIANG Kabataan (SK) council member Lira Sanchez (not her real name) remembers the first time she received her “SOP,” the so-called standard operating procedure, otherwise known as love gifts or kickbacks, from projects in their barangay in Metro Manila.

She was 16 years old then, and the sight of the P6,000-cash being handed to her made her hesitate. “Di po ba ito bawal (Isn’t this illegal)?” the girl asked. She was assured that it wasn’t, adding: “Kahit si Kap meron niyan (Even the barangay captain has his share).”

The money was apparently a “reward” for the successful barangay-wide sportsfest. For each year that sportsfests are held in her barangay, over half of their P1.4 million SK budget is spent on uniforms, basketballs, rackets, medals, and trophies, among other things. And for each event, the cash gift is equally divided among the SK members, although she suspects the SK chair gets a lot more. After all, the SK chair’s mother is also a barangay official, as well as a contractor/supplier, who arranges all the purchases of the SK.

Sanchez says there are purchases that are overpriced — in order to accommodate the 30-percent kickback — like a mini-van purchased at P600,000 when the price should just be a little over P200,000, or the recently bought laptop and LCD projector that none of the SK members ever saw. The three computers acquired years ago are now also missing, along with mono-block chairs reportedly stacked in the SK chair’s house.

Like many of the youth running for an SK post in the just held barangay elections, Sanchez is aware that it is precisely this type of practice that has led many to believe that the SK has fallen into the grip of traditional politics, a breeding ground that reeks of corruption, patronage, and inefficiency.

Sanchez, now 21, in fact wants the SK abolished. “Kasi bata ka pa lang, nasisira na ang pananaw mo sa pulitika (You get disillusioned at a very young age).”

In the 2005 story, “So Young and So Trapo,” PCIJ reported that SK is failing miserably in its mandate. Created during the Marcos years and resurrected in 1992 with the Local Government Code, SK was meant to be a training ground for the next generation of leaders. But with the introduction of trapo ways, many now doubt if there should still be an SK.

No less than Aquilino Pimentel Jr. himself, author of the local government code, favors the abolition of the SK for “no longer serving its purpose as a training ground for youth leaders and a means of getting the youth involved in community development.” Worse, he said, SK leaders commit corrupt practices, “unable to resist the temptation to which they are exposed in handling public funds that are entrusted to them.”

In this year’s budget, over P2.9 billion went to SK funds, based on its 10-percent share from the internal revenue allotment (IRA) of the barangays. With SOPs ranging from 10 to 30 percent, a total of P290 million to P870 million could have been lost to corruption. Added to the money pot of SK is its share from the taxes and collected fees in a barangay. In rich villages in Makati, SK funds could be as much as P10 million.

But for others, it is simply not a case of mismanaging funds. Some say it is the barangay officials themselves who introduce the youth to corrupt ways. In Sanchez’s barangay, for instance, the purchase of equipment go unchecked because the SK chair’s mother arranges all the procurement, along with identifying contractors to build the basketball courts. It is, in fact, from these projects that they get the largest rebates, Sanchez says, ranging from P8,000 to P12,000 for each court built.

Possible reforms

Corruption is just one of the many problems confronting the SK. It has likewise been criticized for engaging in activities — such as sportsfests, concerts, and beautification projects — that do not benefit the youth.

The National Youth Commission (NYC), in a recently published SK Reform Policy Paper, said the top three favorite projects of the SK are concerning sports, environment, and infrastructure. Projects are not planned and monitored; most also do not submit annual reports.

The SK, NYC added, is also not able to convene the Katipunan ng mga Kabataan or KK, otherwise known as the SK electorate. Under the law, the KK is supposed to meet with the council every three months to get an update on the projects of the SK and to air their concerns. Many of the youths interviewed for the PCIJ story in 2005 are in fact not even aware that there should be such a body.

As for the issue of funds, there are those that had suggested that SK should not be handling money at all. But for NYC, this should not be the case. In its newly drafted proposed SK Reform Bill, NYC said the SK must be granted fiscal autonomy, which, in principle, would allow the SK to have full access and control of their funds and be accountable for its allocation as well as for the types of projects it spends its funds on.

Sanchez also thinks that the barangay should not meddle with the SK affairs. In the council, not only does the mother of the SK chair control the project, she also drafts all the SK resolutions herself. “All we have to do is sign,” she laments.

Fifteen-year-old Ian Tajuna, the youngest SK chair candidate in Pasong Tamo, Quezon City, also believes that the SK could handle its own affairs. Tajuna, being a class leader and head of various organizations since grade school, is confident that he could lead the 1,600 youths in his barangay, along with the other 16- and 17-year-olds in his slate.

He also says that he will never become a trapolito (young traditional politician). “There is hope. I will be able to reform the SK. Ako ang magbabago,” he says almost too confidently. If he wins today, he’ll be a step closer to being a Quezon City councilor, a dream he hopes to realize one day.

Read the SK Reform Policy Paper and Reform Bill.