LET’S PROMOTE SORGHUM AS A SUPPLEMENT TO RICE

LET’S PROMOTE SORGHUM AS A SUPPLEMENT TO RICE

I have to be careful with my choice of words here, because this is one of those topics where people can easily misunderstand my  intentions. So let me be clear from the start: I am not proposing that sorghum replace rice. I am proposing that sorghum supplement rice—along with breads, noodles, root crops, and other alternatives that we already eat anyway.

Like most Filipinos, I grew up on rice. Breakfast, lunch, dinner—rice was always there. Recently, however, on my doctor’s advice, I started experimenting. Quinoa. Shiitake rice. Oatmeal and boiled bananas for breakfast. No tragedy happened. The world did not end. I simply adjusted.

And that, really, is the point.

This is not an anti-rice campaign. It is a food security conversation. The uncomfortable truth is that we import a large portion of the rice we consume. That alone should already set off alarm bells. What happens if there is a global rice shortage? What if exporting countries decide to keep their stocks for their own people? We have already seen export bans and supply disruptions in recent years. Why are we acting as if rice will always be available and affordable?

That is why sorghum deserves serious attention—not as a rival to rice, but as its partner.

If we are talking about food security in 2026, sorghum is what rice wishes it could be under climate stress. Rice is thirsty and delicate. Sorghum is tough. It is often called the “camel of crops” because it survives where others fail. It requires only a fraction of the water rice needs, can pause growth during drought, and recover once rain returns. In a country increasingly battered by El Niño and unpredictable rainfall, that matters.

Nutritionally, supplementing rice with sorghum actually upgrades the Filipino plate. Sorghum has a lower glycemic index than white rice—important in a country struggling with diabetes. It contains more fiber and iron, and like rice, it is gluten-free. For farmers, it requires less fertilizer, can grow on marginal land, and can even be ratooned—harvested twice from the same planting. That is lower cost, lower risk agriculture.

The biggest challenge is not farming sorghum. It is convincing rice-eaters to try it.

That is why the transition must be gentle and practical. A 70 percent rice, 30 percent sorghum blend is a good start. Cooked together, sorghum adds a slightly nutty texture, similar to adlai or brown rice. White sorghum varieties even make the change visually subtle. No shock therapy required.

There are other entry points. Sorghum flour for kakanin, noodles, and bread. Popped sorghum for snacks—think popcorn, but smaller and more nutritious. School feeding programs could quietly normalize sorghum-rice blends for the next generation. LGUs can distribute seeds for planting in dry areas. Local cooperatives can be equipped with de-hulling machines so households are not burdened with extra processing.

Globally, sorghum is already doing double duty: roughly 42 percent is consumed by humans and about 48 percent goes to animal feed. In Africa and India, it has fed people for thousands of years. In the Philippines, it is now being promoted beyond animal feed, with production expanding in Cagayan and Mindanao. You can even buy “sorghum rice” in health stores and online platforms today.

So no, this is not about abandoning rice. This is about flexibility, resilience, and common sense. If we refuse to diversify our staples, we are gambling with our food security. And that is a gamble we cannot afford.

The question we should be asking is simple: why are we waiting for a crisis before we start adapting?

RAMON IKE V. SENERES

www.facebook.com/ike.seneres iseneres@yahoo.com senseneres.blogspot.com 09088877282/03-14-2027