The first is a health precinct anchored around the Dr. Jorge P. Royeca Hospital. This area can evolve into more than a service facility; it can become a hub of clinical excellence, training, and research. With the involvement of Mindanao State University – General Santos City, Notre Dame of Dadiangas University, and University of Santo Tomas, the precinct can integrate medical education, nursing training, and allied health programs directly into the healthcare environment. Teaching hospitals, simulation labs, and community health research units can be co-located, ensuring that learning is grounded in real patient needs. This creates a virtuous cycle: better-trained professionals, stronger healthcare delivery, and research that directly informs local policy and practice.

The second is an education precinct linking the city campuses of MSU and NDDU. These institutions already function as intellectual anchors, but their proximity offers an opportunity for deeper integration. Shared libraries, innovation hubs, student collaboration spaces, and cross-enrolment programs can transform the area into a vibrant academic corridor. Streetscapes can be redesigned to encourage pedestrian movement, informal learning, and cultural exchange. Cafés, bookstores, and co-working spaces can support a knowledge-driven economy. Instead of operating as parallel institutions, the two universities can collectively shape a district that signals General Santos City as a center for learning and ideas in Mindanao.

The third is a sports precinct centered on the Antonio Acharon Sports Complex, including the adjacent public high school. This space can be developed into a comprehensive sports ecosystem—combining training facilities, school-based athletics, community recreation, and talent development pathways. Upgraded courts, track facilities, and support amenities can host local leagues, regional competitions, and grassroots programs. Partnerships with schools ensure that sports are integrated into youth development, not treated as an afterthought. With proper planning, the precinct can also support sports science, coaching education, and wellness programs, linking physical activity with broader public health goals.

What ties these precincts together is not infrastructure alone, but intentionality. Each precinct clarifies a purpose—health, education, sport—and aligns institutions, investments, and communities around it. The result is not just efficiency, but identity. People begin to associate places with functions, and functions with excellence.

For General Santos City, this is a chance to move from organic growth to strategic development. Precincts do not require massive reinvention; they require coordination, vision, and sustained commitment. When cities are designed by purpose, they become easier to navigate, more meaningful to inhabit, and more competitive to the world.

General Santos City has the assets. What it needs now is the discipline to organize them.

At present, the city is not without cultural anchors. Notre Dame of Dadiangas University houses a museum that preserves important artifacts and narratives, while Mindanao State University – General Santos City in Tambler maintains its own collections reflecting regional history and culture. These are valuable institutions, but they remain largely campus-based—accessible, yet not fully positioned as the city’s central, publicly owned repository of memory. What General Santos lacks is a fully funded, city-supported museum that belongs unmistakably to the people.

A museum is not a luxury reserved for older or wealthier cities. It is a civic necessity. For a place like General Santos—shaped by migration, indigenous heritage, maritime economy, and rapid urbanisation—a museum provides continuity. It tells the story of how a once modest settlement grew into a regional hub. It documents the lives of early settlers, the traditions of indigenous communities, the rise of the tuna industry, and the everyday experiences that rarely make it into textbooks. Without such a space, history becomes fragmented, remembered only in passing, vulnerable to distortion or loss.

More than preservation, a museum is an educational engine. It complements what schools cannot fully capture: tangible, place-based learning. Students who walk through exhibits do not simply read about history—they encounter it. They see objects, images, and narratives that make abstract lessons come to life. In an age of digital distraction, physical spaces of learning grounded in local identity are more important than ever.

For the city government, the path forward is both practical and strategic. Establishing or upgrading a local museum requires sustained funding—not just for construction, but for curation, staffing, conservation, and programming. A museum must be alive: rotating exhibits, hosting community events, integrating digital archives, and partnering with tourism initiatives. It should be located in an accessible area, designed to welcome both residents and visitors, and marketed as part of the city’s identity. Importantly, governance must be professionalised. Curators, historians, and cultural workers should be empowered to shape content with integrity and expertise.

Higher education institutions have a critical role to play. NDDU, UST, HTC, RMMC, and MSU can serve as knowledge partners—contributing research, artifacts, and academic expertise. Collaborative exhibitions can bring university collections into a shared public space, expanding their reach. Faculty and students from history, anthropology, arts, and communication programs can be involved in curation, documentation, and storytelling. In this way, the museum becomes a living laboratory, where scholarship meets public engagement.

The Department of Education can further amplify its impact by integrating museum visits into the curriculum. Field trips, project-based learning, and heritage education programs can make the museum a regular part of the student experience. When young people see their own city reflected in curated narratives, they develop a deeper sense of belonging and responsibility.

A well-supported museum also has economic implications. Cultural tourism doesn't grow overnight; it begins with credible, well-curated spaces. Visitors who come for business or transit can be encouraged to stay longer, explore more, and understand the city beyond its commercial identity. Local artists, historians, and cultural practitioners gain a platform. Small enterprises—from souvenir makers to tour guides—benefit from increased cultural activity.

Yet perhaps the most important role of a museum is symbolic. It signals that a city values its past as much as its future. It affirms that progress is not measured only in infrastructure and revenue, but also in how a community understands itself.

This is where ordinary citizens come in. A museum cannot thrive on government support alone. People must choose to engage with it. Visit regularly. Bring children. Share stories and artifacts. Support local cultural initiatives. Advocate for funding and transparency. Treat the museum not as a static building, but as a shared civic space.

General Santos City is still writing its story. The question is whether we will take the time to preserve it, to tell it well, and to pass it on with care. A fully supported local museum is not just about the past. It is about ensuring that the future has something true to remember.

University precincts are more than clusters of classrooms. They are cultural zones, intellectual corridors, and living archives of a city’s aspirations. In General Santos City, the area (Marist Avenue) linking Mindanao State University – General Santos City and Notre Dame of Dadiangas University holds untapped potential—not only as an academic hub, but as a visual landmark. One practical and powerful way to elevate this precinct is through a coordinated streetscape mural project, with the wall at the back of MSU’s city campus facing NDDU serving as the centerpiece.

Urban murals are not mere decoration. When thoughtfully designed, they become open-air classrooms. They tell stories of place—of indigenous heritage, maritime history, tuna industry, migration, faith traditions, and the shared educational journeys that shape the region. In a university district, murals can depict scientific breakthroughs, literary voices, agricultural innovation, engineering feats, and medical milestones. They can visually narrate the evolution of SOCCSKSARGEN, situating students within a longer arc of regional development.

The back wall of MSU’s city campus, visible and structurally prominent, offers an ideal canvas. Instead of a blank or weathered surface, imagine a large-scale mural that blends historical timelines, cultural motifs, and contemporary aspirations. It could incorporate elements from both institutions—MSU’s public, multicultural mandate and NDDU’s Catholic educational tradition—framed not as competing identities but as complementary forces shaping the city. A well-executed mural can become a tourism draw, a graduation photo backdrop, and a source of civic pride.

This initiative need not be costly or complex. Both universities can collaborate through their fine arts, liberal arts, architecture, and engineering programs to design and execute the project. Students can be directly involved, earning practicum or service-learning credits. Alumni artists can mentor. Local businesses and civic groups can sponsor sections of the mural. The city government can assist with permits, lighting, and pedestrian improvements to enhance safety and visibility.

Beyond aesthetics, improved streetscapes influence behavior. Clean, well-lit, art-filled corridors invite walking, conversation, and informal learning. They reduce vandalism by signaling care and ownership. They strengthen the psychological connection between campus and community.

A mural project between MSU and NDDU would be more than paint on concrete. It would be a public declaration that education does not stop at the classroom door. It spills into streets, into memory, into shared space. When universities collaborate visibly, they model the kind of partnership cities need—creative, practical, and forward-looking.

Walls can divide, but they can also teach. In the university precinct of General Santos City, it is time to let them do the latter.

MSU–GSC’s strength lies in its breadth and relevance. Its College of Medicine is helping address one of Mindanao’s most persistent challenges—the maldistribution of doctors—by training future physicians with a strong understanding of regional health realities. Graduates who choose to stay or return to cities and towns in Mindanao bring with them not only clinical competence, but cultural fluency and social commitment. In agriculture, the university plays a vital role in a region where food systems, climate resilience, and rural livelihoods are inseparable from economic stability. Research, extension work, and farmer engagement directly support productivity and sustainability across surrounding provinces.

Equally important is MSU–GSC’s engineering capacity. Electrical and mechanical engineering programs feed directly into the city’s industrial, energy, and infrastructure needs, supplying skilled professionals who power factories, utilities, and emerging technologies. These are not abstract contributions; they are embedded in the daily functioning of the city. Liberal arts programs, often undervalued in development discourse, complete the picture by producing graduates equipped for governance, education, communication, and community leadership—roles essential to social cohesion and democratic life.

Taken together, MSU–GSC acts as an anchor institution: one that stabilizes, uplifts, and connects. Yet its potential is far from fully realized. This is where leadership matters. The call to action for the MSU leadership team is clear: deepen partnerships with the city government and local industries, align research agendas more deliberately with urban and regional priorities, and position the university as a visible co-architect of General Santos City’s future. Expanding interdisciplinary projects, strengthening internship-to-employment pipelines, and amplifying public engagement can transform quiet contribution into collective momentum.

Cities do not rise on infrastructure alone. They rise on knowledge, skill, and purpose. MSU–General Santos City already provides these. What is needed now is a bolder, more outward-facing vision—one that claims its rightful place at the heart of the city it has long been building.

There are clear advantages. A regional name strengthens collective identity and can support regional tourism branding, much like how some airports transcend city limits to represent wider territories. It reminds travelers that they are entering a region, not just a city. Yet there are also practical downsides. General Santos City already has strong national and international recognition. Renaming risks confusion, brand dilution, and administrative costs—new signage, documents, and marketing—without guaranteeing better service or experience. A new name alone will not fix what travelers actually remember.

And this is where the conversation must mature. Whether we retain the name General Santos City Airport or add a regional descriptor, what matters more is whether the airport lives up to its role as the gateway of the SOCCSKSARGEN Region. Gateways are judged not by labels, but by lived experience. Clean, well-maintained toilets are not luxuries; they are signals of respect. Fast and reliable internet connectivity is no longer optional—it is basic infrastructure. Locally inspired shops should showcase regional products, food, and crafts, not generic kiosks found anywhere else. A small photo gallery or micro-museum can quietly tell the story of tuna, mountains, indigenous cultures, and everyday life. A blind massage parlor offers both wellness and dignified livelihood. Welcoming, well-trained reception staff set the emotional tone of arrival.

Expecting these things is not demanding extravagance; it is asking for simple, practical standards befitting a regional hub. Retaining the General Santos City name while elevating the airport experience may, in fact, achieve more than a symbolic renaming.

There is work to be done—and responsibility to share. Ordinary citizens can start by caring: reporting issues, supporting local airport businesses, and treating the space as a shared public asset. For the General Santos City LGU, action can be concrete and immediate: second city-based tourism staff to support airport operations and visitor assistance, and partner with universities to deploy hospitality and tourism students as volunteers, completing at least 40 service hours before graduation. This builds skills, pride, and service culture.

What we call our airport matters. But how it feels matters more. A true gateway earns its name every single day.

The benefits are tangible and overdue. Proper septage treatment will significantly reduce water pollution, particularly in the Sarangani Bay Protected Seascape, protect communities from waterborne diseases, and prevent soil and land contamination caused by unchecked seepage. Beyond risk reduction, the system opens the door to conservation and innovation—allowing water reuse, biomass recovery for energy, and biosolids that can be safely repurposed as fertilizer. Most importantly, it protects ecosystems and aquatic life by removing excess organic matter and nutrients that deplete oxygen and trigger harmful algal blooms.

This moment feels especially personal. In 2012, I had the privilege of leading a small Philippine delegation—including two colleagues from General Santos City, one of whom now serves as General Manager of the GSC Water District—to the Temasek Water Leadership Program at the Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy, National University of Singapore. There, we observed global best practices in septage treatment and stood in awe of Singapore’s NEWater facility, a powerful example of what disciplined water governance can achieve.

To see those lessons slowly crystallize back home is deeply affirming. This project required persistence, partnerships, and the quiet dedication of professionals who believed the city could do better. My hope is that this long-delayed initiative is not merely realized, but sustained—managed with the same seriousness that inspired it. Water systems, after all, reflect our values. Today, General Santos City is choosing responsibility.

Bowling is more than a pastime. It is one of the few indoor recreational activities that cuts across age, income, and ability. It welcomes families with young children, seniors seeking low-impact activity, students looking for structured fun, and workers unwinding after long hours. In a city where heat often limits outdoor recreation, an air-conditioned bowling center offers an inclusive, all-weather alternative that supports both physical activity and social connection.

For malls, the case is equally compelling. A bowling center is not just an amenity; it is a destination anchor. It lengthens dwell time, diversifies foot traffic, and complements cinemas, food courts, and retail spaces. In other cities, bowling alleys have proven resilient by evolving into multi-use leisure zones—combining lanes with cafés, party rooms, leagues, and community events. Such spaces generate repeat visits and foster brand loyalty, particularly among families and young professionals.

General Santos City already demonstrates a strong appetite for organized recreation, from gyms to esports lounges. What is missing is a shared indoor space that feels communal rather than niche. A tenpin bowling center fills that role naturally, offering structured competition, casual play, and opportunities for school leagues, corporate team-building, and even regional tournaments that can draw visitors from neighboring provinces.

Cities signal their maturity not only through infrastructure and commerce, but through how they invest in everyday joy. The absence of a bowling center is not a minor inconvenience; it reflects a lag in aligning amenities with urban realities. For SM, KCC, or Gaisano, the opportunity is clear. For General Santos City, the message is simple: it is time to roll forward and claim the recreational spaces a metropolitan city deserves.

There was a time in General Santos City when people didn’t check their phones to know if they were running late (talking of people residing Dadiangas South and Dadiangas West). Before synchronized networks and digital tickers, the heart of the city beat to the rhythm of a single structure: the Clock Tower along Pioneer Avenue. For many who grew up in the 1960s and 70s, that tower was more than a timekeeper—it was a symbol of order, pride, and the quiet discipline of a young and growing city.

Long before the city became a bustling commercial hub of malls, fast-food chains, and hospitals, General Santos relied on a communal understanding of time. The clock tower, donated decades ago—many say by the Mt. Matutum Lions Club—stood at the very center of daily life. Placed strategically at the center island across Ramon Magsaysay Memorial Colleges, it functioned as the city’s unofficial metronome. Workers timed their commutes by it. Schools synchronized their bells with it. Jeepneys, shopkeepers, and government offices relied on its four faces to move in step with one another.

Ask anyone who lived in General Santos during that era, and they will recall the tower’s analog charm—simple black hands sweeping across its white face, framed by a concrete tower that had no pretensions but possessed unmistakable purpose.

But like many things in our fast-changing urban landscape, the clock tower did not escape modernization. Today, its analog clock is gone—replaced by a digital display that tells time accurately, perhaps, but without soul. What once felt like a heritage marker now resembles roadside signage. And this prompts a question that is both sentimental and practical:

Why did we let go of one of the city’s quiet treasures?

Cities around the world understand the value of preserving timekeeping landmarks. Think of the Prague Astronomical Clock, the Rajabai Tower in Mumbai, or even the old town clocks in small American cities that serve as beloved historical anchors. These structures are not simply ornamental. They are repositories of collective memory.

General Santos City has few surviving built heritage pieces. Much of its architectural past has been erased by rapid commercial expansion and the absence of a preservation culture. Our history has been overshadowed by our speed. And in the process, structures like the Clock Tower—modest yet meaningful—have slipped through the cracks of public consciousness.

Restoring the old clock is not about nostalgia for nostalgia’s sake. It is about grounding the city’s identity.

General Santos has always projected itself as a forward-looking community, but forward movement does not require forgetting where we started. In fact, places that thrive—Singapore, Iloilo City, Seoul, Penang—do so because they honor their tangible past while inviting innovation. Heritage and modernization can co-exist beautifully when guided by intention.

Imagine the old clock tower restored to its analog form—classic hands, a refurbished mechanism, lighting that enhances its structure at night, and an accompanying plaque narrating its history. Visitors could learn why it mattered. Children could hear stories of the era before cell phones. Locals could take pride in the city’s capacity to protect even small symbols of its evolution.

Restoring the clock tower would not require massive budgets or complex legislation. It requires will. A partnership among the city government, heritage advocates, civic groups such as the Lions Club, and local educational institutions could bring it back to life. Architecture and engineering students might even take part in its conservation as part of community-engaged learning. The city’s tourism office could adopt it as part of a heritage trail, complementing our modern skyline with a piece of authentic past.

This small act of restoration could spark something larger: a movement to document and protect other fading historical elements in General Santos—old shop façades, public artworks, surviving pre-commercial houses in downtown barangays, even the layout of early streets. Heritage doesn’t always come as grand cathedrals or stone mansions. Sometimes, it comes as a clock tower placed humbly along Pioneer Avenue, quietly doing its job for decades.

We talk often about developing new icons—museums, parks, business districts—but sometimes, the icons we need are already right in front of us, just waiting to be rediscovered.

In a world where time feels increasingly fleeting, restoring the clock tower is a symbolic act of reclaiming rhythm, identity, and continuity. It says to future generations: this city was not built yesterday. It honors the people who lived here when General Santos was still defining itself. And it reminds us that progress is most meaningful when anchored in memory.

The Clock Tower once kept the city running on time. Perhaps restoring it could help us keep something even more valuable: our sense of place.

This is not just a development proposal—it is a vision for a healthier, smarter, and more economically dynamic GenSan.

A Once-in-a-Generation Opportunity

Few cities in the Philippines have the chance GenSan now has: three major health institutions already standing side by side, with enough space and road access to evolve into a connected ecosystem. Instead of viewing them as isolated agencies, the city can redesign the entire district into a Health Precinct similar to global medical innovation zones found in Singapore, Brisbane, Melbourne, and parts of the U.S.

Imagine:

• A modernized Dr. Jorge Royeca Medical Center at the core

• A City Health Office integrated with public health laboratories

• A training hub for MSU’s College of Medicine and other allied health programs

• Spaces for private clinics, diagnostic centers, biotech startups, and research laboratories

• Universities establishing satellite extensions for nursing, public health, data science, and social work

• A health workforce training center for Region 12

This precinct could be the first of its kind in the Philippines, setting a national model for integrated urban health development.

Clear the Space, Clear the Vision

But for this vision to become reality, non-health-related national and city offices that currently occupy the area must make way. These agencies can be relocated to more appropriate government complexes elsewhere in the city. The Lagao health zone must become exclusively health-focused—a requirement for any serious medical innovation precinct. Fragmented land use will only weaken long-term planning.

A Magnet for Universities and Private Investment

Health innovation thrives when academia, government, and the private sector intersect.

By officially declaring Lagao as a Health Precinct, GenSan can invite universities to co-locate, offering shared research facilities, training labs, and access to patients and data for academic collaboration. Private hospitals, pharma companies, telehealth providers, and health-tech startups would be encouraged to establish operations within the precinct, creating jobs and economic spillover effects.

This transforms GenSan from a consumer of health services into a producer of knowledge, innovation, and talent.

Economic and Social Impact

The benefits of a Health Precinct are profound:

• Job Creation: from doctors and nurses to researchers, lab technicians, data scientists, and support staff

• Stronger Local Healthcare: residents gain access to advanced services without leaving the region

• Regional Attraction: nearby provinces will rely on GenSan for training and specialty care

• Innovation Ecosystem: research grants, clinical trials, and partnerships flow into the city

• Urban Renewal: the district becomes a vibrant, modern, and walkable campus

• Local Revenue: businesses, dormitories, cafes, and service providers thrive around the precinct

The multiplier effect mirrors what medical precincts have done for cities abroad—lifting entire sectors and raising quality of life.

A Vision That Demands Bold Leadership

For too long, GenSan’s health services have been scattered, overstretched, and underfunded. Establishing a General Santos City Health Precinct signals a shift toward a more strategic, future-facing city—one that is ready to lead Region 12 into an era of advanced healthcare and innovation.

This is the moment to think boldly, act decisively, and build a precinct that reflects the potential and ambition of our people.

If GenSan takes this leap, it won’t just improve healthcare—it will redefine the city’s identity and secure its place as one of Mindanao’s most forward-looking urban centers.

This is why the proposed legislative measure—soon to be sponsored by Representative Shirlyn Bañas—to upgrade the hospital into a full-fledged medical center is not only timely but morally urgent. More than a hospital expansion, the bill recognizes a bigger vision: to transform Royeca into a 600-bed, nationally funded medical center, a research and training hub, and the base hospital for the Mindanao State University–General Santos College of Medicine as it prepares to graduate its first batch of future doctors.

Having personally studied the hospital as the subject of my MBA business management thesis in the late 1990s, I know how deeply its challenges run—and how long overdue this upgrade truly is.

A Hospital That Has Carried a Region

The hospital has served not just 722,000 residents of General Santos City, but also communities from Sarangani, South Cotabato, Sultan Kudarat, and even distant Balut Island (in Davao Occidental). Its catchment area has grown far beyond what a city hospital was ever designed to accommodate.

Yet despite its official 100-bed authority and its current 200-bed Level 2 status, Royeca routinely posts a 300% bed occupancy rate. Every day, more than 200 patients line up for care—many forced to share beds, sit in crowded hallways, or wait endlessly for space to open.

This is not just congestion—this is a quiet crisis of dignity and access.

Region 12 Deserves a Medical Center

Yes, there is the SOXGen General Hospital in Surallah, South Cotabato—but it is 79 kilometers and nearly three hours away. It serves primarily as a general hospital and does not offer the breadth of specialty and subspecialty care the region now requires.

With MSU’s College of Medicine in GenSan soon to produce its first medical graduates, the need becomes even clearer: Where will these future doctors train? Where will Region 12 build its research ecosystem?

A medical center in GenSan fills this glaring gap.

A Decade of Pleas, Appeals, and Resolutions

From 2016 to 2024, the local government of General Santos City has passed eight resolutions urging national support for this upgrade. Community leaders, health workers, and families have echoed the same plea: We need more beds. We need more services. We need national support.

Years have passed. Lives have been lost waiting. Families have suffered unnecessary transfers. This is no longer just an administrative concern; it is a matter of justice, equity, and regional development.

A Just, Strategic, and Forward-looking Reform

Upgrading the hospital into a nationally funded medical center will:

• Bring specialized care closer to millions in Region 12
• Support the goals of Universal Health Care
• Strengthen health workforce development through MSU
• Stimulate research and innovation in Southern Mindanao
• Reduce the financial burden on GenSan families seeking advanced care in Davao or elsewhere
• Ensure the hospital’s sustainability with adequate national funding

This is the kind of infrastructure that transforms not just health outcomes but regional futures.

A Call to Pass the Bill—Now

For half a century, Royeca has been a symbol of service, sacrifice, and resilience. But it can no longer carry the region’s health needs alone. The proposed bill represents the most significant health investment for SOCCSKSARGEN in decades.

Its early passage would mean:
A hospital that heals—not overcrowds.
A center that trains—not turns away.
A regional health system that finally matches the courage and aspirations of its people.

The people of General Santos City and the greater SOCCSKSARGEN region have waited long enough. It is time to give them the medical center they deserve.

For a city long plagued by chronic transport challenges and rapidly expanding urban populations, optimism ran high. This was innovation made by Filipinos for Filipinos. If successful, GenSan could have become the model city for modern, efficient, and environmentally conscious transport alternatives.

And yet today, the HERT rests unused—silent, sidelined, and slowly deteriorating. Its fate stands as a sobering reminder that innovation, no matter how brilliant, cannot survive without equally thoughtful implementation.

A Good Idea Without a Good Home

The HERT’s downfall in General Santos was not due to its engineering—it was due to the lack of an ecosystem to support it.

Mass transport systems rely on infrastructure that is purposefully designed for them. Dedicated lanes, reinforced roads, power systems, maintenance hubs, trained staff, and public education all form the foundation on which new transportation technology must operate.

GenSan, despite its aspirations, was not prepared.

• The city lacked dedicated lanes, forcing HERT to share space with unpredictable local traffic.

• No long-term operational plans, maintenance funds, or trained personnel were secured.

• Most critically, there was no community acceptance strategy—no communication plan, no rider education, and no efforts to build trust with local transport groups who understandably felt threatened.

Innovation cannot be parachuted into a community and expected to flourish. Technology must fit the cultural, economic, and political landscape in which it is deployed.

The Cultural Mismatch

General Santos City’s transport ecosystem is dominated by tricycles, jeepneys, and motorcycles—flexible, informal modes that move with the city’s rhythms. Introducing a rail-like, structured system into a city accustomed to fluid, decentralized transport required far more community dialogue than what occurred.

Local drivers saw the HERT as a competitor, not a complement. Commuters were unsure of its reliability. LGUs were not ready to champion it as part of the city’s long-term mobility plan.

HERT was a technological solution introduced into an environment not yet socially prepared to receive it.

A Lesson the City Must Not Waste

As the city contemplates dismantling or removing the HERT, the bigger tragedy would be failing to learn from its experience.

The lesson is simple but critical:
Local innovation must be paired with local readiness.
A well-designed system is only as strong as the local governance, infrastructure, and public engagement behind it.

Moving Forward: What GenSan Can Do Better

If General Santos City wants to pursue innovative mass transport in the future—whether electric buses, BRTs, or new DOST prototypes—three foundations must be in place:

1. Infrastructure First
   Build dedicated lanes, loading bays, and maintenance facilities before introducing any new transport system.

2. Deep Community Engagement
   Transport groups must be brought in early—heard, respected, and integrated into the solution instead of bypassed.

3. Sustained Political and Financial Support
   Mass transport isn’t a pilot project. It needs years of funding, technical staff, and continuity across multiple administrations.

Innovation Should Not Die Here

The HERT may never run again, but its story must fuel smarter decisions. Filipino engineers have already proven that we can produce world-class ideas. The responsibility now rests on cities like GenSan to create conditions where such innovations can thrive.

Let this moment be a turning point—not a tombstone for local innovation, but a compass for how to do better moving forward.

If we learn the right lessons, the HERT will not have been a failure.
It will have been a teacher.

And yet, as promising as this initiative sounds, it also calls for careful reflection and financial prudence. Establishing a college is one thing; sustaining it with quality is quite another.

The Appeal of a City College

The concept of a local government-funded college is, on the surface, appealing. It aligns with the constitutional mandate to make higher education more accessible and equitable. With tuition costs rising and many families struggling to send their children to college, a publicly funded institution seems like a solution.

The city may likely set aside at least ₱40 million to establish the college, with an equal amount needed annually for its maintenance and operations. For many constituents, that figure feels justified—an investment in the city’s youth and its future workforce.

But the question that policymakers must ask is this: Do we need another college—or do we need better access to existing ones?

A City Already Rich in Academic Strength

General Santos City is not short on higher education institutions. In fact, it already hosts a vibrant ecosystem of competitive universities that rival those in major cities.

Foremost is Mindanao State University (MSU)–General Santos, a regional state university recognized for its academic excellence. It consistently ranks among the top-performing MSU campuses nationwide, producing professionals in engineering, accounting, education, and the sciences.

Then there is Notre Dame of Dadiangas University (NDDU)—an autonomous Catholic institution with a solid reputation for academic rigor and community service. Its graduates are among the most employable in the region, and its programs in nursing, business, and teacher education are well established.

Meanwhile, the University of Santo Tomas (UST) has made its long-awaited expansion into Mindanao, setting up in General Santos City—a testament to the city’s growing educational relevance. UST’s presence adds both prestige and competition, enriching the local higher education landscape.

With these institutions already providing quality education in various disciplines, the challenge for the city government may not be a lack of universities, but rather a lack of student access to these universities.

The Economics of Education

Building a new city college from scratch will require not only capital investment but also long-term operational sustainability—faculty recruitment, administrative staffing, accreditation costs, utilities, maintenance, and equipment upgrades.

Most local colleges established in the past decade struggle with these very issues. Many have small student populations, limited research capacity, and outdated facilities. Without substantial and consistent funding, the dream of offering “quality and affordable higher education” often ends in mediocrity.

The city could instead channel its ₱40 million (and recurring ₱40 million annually) into a City Scholarship Fund—a smarter, more inclusive, and scalable approach.

A Better Way Forward: The City Scholarship Model

Rather than building an entirely new institution, the city could partner with existing universities—public and private alike—to fund scholarship grants for qualified General Santos students.

This would immediately broaden access to higher education without duplicating services already available in the city. Students could choose from diverse programs—engineering at MSU, nursing at NDDU, education at UST, or business at Holy Trinity College—while the city shoulders a portion or all of the tuition costs.

This strategy offers several advantages:

1. Cost-Efficiency. Scholarships are far cheaper and faster to implement than building and maintaining a college.

2. Quality Assurance. Students benefit from established universities with accredited programs, experienced faculty, and strong industry linkages.

3. Equity. Assistance can be targeted toward those who need it most—students from low-income families, first-generation college-goers, or those in remote barangays (not to include those outside of the city).

4. Flexibility. Funds can be adjusted annually based on student demand, workforce needs, and city revenue.

5. Accountability. Partner institutions can be required to submit performance reports, ensuring transparency and measurable outcomes.

Learning from Other Cities

Other progressive cities in the Philippines have already taken this path. For instance, Taguig City and Makati City have robust scholarship and educational assistance programs, sending thousands of students to private universities through city-funded grants. The results are clear—better graduate employability, improved educational access, and more efficient use of taxpayer money.

In contrast, some city colleges across the country face challenges of low enrollment and limited accreditation, becoming a fiscal burden rather than a point of pride.

Aligning Education with City Vision

General Santos City has long positioned itself as the commercial capital of Region XII—a hub for trade, logistics, and agribusiness. To sustain that role, the city needs a workforce trained in modern skills: digital innovation, agritech, health sciences, and entrepreneurship.

These are precisely the kinds of programs already being offered by the city’s existing higher education institutions. What is needed, therefore, is not duplication but integration—stronger partnerships between the city government and universities to align academic training with local development goals.

Moreover, the city could encourage universities to open extension centers or research incubators that support local industries. Instead of funding a new campus, the city could co-invest in innovation hubs or scholarship programs tied to its economic priorities.

A Vision of Inclusion, Not Expansion

The establishment of Kolehiyo de Heneral Santos City is a well-intentioned gesture—a sign of the city’s commitment to education. But intention must meet wisdom.

In a city already rich with reputable universities, the challenge is not to build one more school, but to make every school accessible. True educational progress is not measured by the number of colleges built, but by the number of students who can afford to dream—and graduate.

If General Santos City wants to make history in education, it need not build new walls. It only needs to open more doors.

But with such prosperity comes a question of sustainability: Can one barangay this large, this complex, and this diverse still be governed effectively as a single administrative unit?

The Case for Dividing Lagao

Barangay Lagao’s scale and population have far outgrown the administrative limits of a typical barangay. Its responsibilities—public safety, health services, waste management, traffic regulation, and community programs—are no longer proportionate to its governance capacity.

Dividing Lagao into at least four smaller barangays is not an act of division, but one of precision. Smaller administrative units mean:

1. Better Governance and Responsiveness.
   Each new barangay can focus on its distinct community profile—residential, commercial, institutional, or mixed-use—allowing more responsive local policies. A barangay that governs a few thousand households can act faster than one managing hundreds of business establishments and tens of thousands of residents at once.

2. Improved Public Services.
   Smaller barangays can deploy focused health, sanitation, and public order programs. Emergency response will improve dramatically when barangay tanods, health stations, and waste collectors are managed at a more local level.

3. Enhanced Representation.
   Residents and businesses alike can have better access to barangay officials who truly understand their concerns. The voices of the poor communities within Lagao often go unheard amid the noise of big commercial districts.

4. Economic Rationalization.
   Each new barangay can better track local business taxes, property assessments, and zoning compliance. When done right, the division will not dilute revenue—it will help optimize it by ensuring accountability and transparency.

A Barangay Unlike Any Other

Lagao’s economic footprint rivals that of small towns. SM General Santos alone draws thousands daily, while KCC and Robinsons serve as employment anchors for thousands of workers. Add five tertiary hospitals—each handling hundreds of patients daily—and you have a barangay that functions like a regional hub of commerce and healthcare.

This density and diversity strain its infrastructure. Traffic congestion, waste disposal, and drainage remain persistent issues. The sheer administrative volume—permits, disputes, welfare cases—stretches the barangay bureaucracy to its limit.

A reconfiguration into four barangays—Lagao Central, Lagao North, Lagao West, and Lagao East, for instance—can distribute administrative load evenly, foster competitive innovation in service delivery, and create opportunities for participatory local governance.

Lessons from Other Cities

Other Philippine cities have done similar reforms. Quezon City’s once-massive barangays like Commonwealth and Batasan Hills have undergone boundary reviews to improve governance efficiency. Cebu City and Davao City have explored similar initiatives to manage urban growth.

Internationally, cities like Singapore and Kuala Lumpur have long recognized that urban density requires decentralized governance. Dividing large administrative districts into smaller, functional precincts allows local government to better integrate transport, zoning, and social services.

Balancing Commerce and Community

Critics may worry that dividing Lagao could weaken its economic clout. But the opposite is more likely: smaller barangays mean tailored economic planning. One barangay can focus on commercial revitalization; another can prioritize residential infrastructure, healthcare, or education.

For example, a Barangay Lagao Central could manage the mall and hospital districts with a focus on mobility and business permits, while Lagao North could specialize in housing and livelihood development. This kind of spatial planning aligns with how progressive cities approach urban management—by function, not just geography.

The Role of the City Government

The City Government of General Santos should take the lead by commissioning a Barangay Reorganization Feasibility Study—mapping population density, revenue flow, traffic patterns, and administrative performance. This data-driven approach will ensure that division is rational, equitable, and responsive.

Public consultation is essential. Residents, business owners, and institutions must be engaged in shaping the proposed boundaries and governance structures. Local universities like Notre Dame of Dadiangas University, University of Santo Tomas, and Mindanao State University can assist in research and community dialogue.

If done right, this could become a model for other fast-growing barangays across the Philippines facing similar governance challenges.

Toward Smarter Urban Governance

Barangay Lagao’s transformation is not merely about administrative lines—it’s about creating a system that matches the complexity of its reality. It is about acknowledging that a barangay, once rural, has become metropolitan, that a governance model built for villages can no longer manage a microcity.

General Santos City has always been known for bold moves—industrial expansion, airport development, and a thriving service economy. Now, it must take the next bold step: modernizing its barangay structure to match its progress.

Because when governance becomes as dynamic as the community it serves, prosperity doesn’t just grow—it lasts.

Now is the time for the city to harness this potential through a Research Consortium of General Santos City—a collaborative platform that brings together the city’s academic institutions, local government, business sector, and civil society to drive evidence-based development.

The Case for a Research Consortium

A research consortium creates synergy among universities and research institutions that might otherwise compete or work in silos. By pooling resources, expertise, and infrastructure, such a consortium can enhance research output, attract funding, and strengthen the city’s ability to solve local and regional problems.

Imagine Notre Dame of Dadiangas University, Mindanao State University–General Santos, and University of Santo Tomas working hand in hand on studies about sustainable fisheries, agribusiness innovation, renewable energy, public health, and urban resilience. Together, they could align their research agendas with the city’s development plan, ensuring that studies are not just academic exercises but practical solutions that support policy and business growth.

For students and faculty, this would mean greater access to research grants, mentorship, and collaborative opportunities. For the city, it means having a pool of data-driven insights to guide decision-making—whether on infrastructure planning, social services, or economic diversification.

The Role of Local Government

The local government of General Santos City must play a convening and enabling role. The city has the convening power and legitimacy to bring together various sectors that often operate in silos. A dedicated Research and Innovation Office under the City Mayor or City Planning Department could serve as the secretariat of the consortium, ensuring coordination and resource mobilization.

Through its Local Development Investment Program, the LGU can allocate seed funding to support research aligned with its strategic priorities—public health, disaster resilience, education, and local enterprise development. The city can also incentivize institutions to engage in collaborative research through recognition programs or public-private partnership grants.

Equally important is the creation of a city research database—a repository of studies, baseline data, and ongoing projects—to avoid duplication and ensure accessibility of knowledge for decision-makers and citizens alike.

The Role of the Business Chamber

The General Santos City Chamber of Commerce and Industry, Inc. can serve as a critical bridge between research and application. Businesses face real-world challenges—from supply chain disruptions and environmental compliance to digital transformation—that require innovative solutions. By partnering with the consortium, the chamber can identify pressing issues and fund applied research that directly benefits local industries.

This collaboration can also promote the culture of innovation among small and medium enterprises (SMEs), encouraging them to adopt research-driven practices in operations, marketing, and product development. Industry-funded research chairs or internships could be established in universities, ensuring that research remains relevant and responsive to market realities.

Learning from Models Elsewhere

Several cities in the Philippines and abroad offer compelling examples. Davao City established the Davao Region Industry, Energy and Emerging Technology Research and Development Consortium(DRIEERDC), which links higher education institutions, government agencies, and industries to align regional priorities with research outputs. Iloilo City, through its partnership with the Iloilo Science and Technology University, has leveraged research collaborations for innovation-driven local development.

Internationally, Malaysia’s Penang Science Cluster and Singapore’s A*STAR Research Entities demonstrate how cities can thrive when local governments, academia, and industries unite around a shared research vision. These collaborations have led to technological breakthroughs, stronger SME competitiveness, and sustainable urban growth.

General Santos City has all the ingredients to replicate these successes—a strong business base, multiple universities, and a progressive local government. What it needs is a structure that connects them and sustains collaboration beyond short-term projects.

A Roadmap for Action

The first step is establishing a Memorandum of Understanding (MOU) among universities, the city government, and the business chamber, formalizing the creation of the consortium. This should be followed by the formulation of a Research and Innovation Agenda that identifies priority areas based on the city’s development plan.

The consortium could organize an annual research and innovation summit, showcasing local studies, prototypes, and policy briefs. Such an event would not only celebrate research excellence but also inspire young scientists and entrepreneurs to pursue innovation-driven careers.

To ensure sustainability, the consortium could pursue partnerships with national agencies like the Department of Science and Technology (DOST), Commission on Higher Education (CHED), and Department of Trade and Industry (DTI). These agencies regularly fund collaborative research, technology business incubators, and innovation centers.

From Tuna Capital to Knowledge Capital

For years, General Santos City has been celebrated as the “Tuna Capital of the Philippines.” But in the 21st century, it can aspire to a new title: the Knowledge Capital of Southern Mindanao.

By nurturing research collaboration, the city can shift from a purely commerce-driven economy to one powered by ideas, data, and innovation. A vibrant research ecosystem can attract investors, strengthen education, and make the city more competitive in the ASEAN region.

The time for talk is over. With a united effort from the local government, the business community, and the city’s academic institutions, General Santos can prove that progress doesn’t just happen in laboratories or boardrooms—it happens when minds and missions align for the public good.

On the positive side, privatization under a PPP model can inject much-needed capital into the port’s redevelopment, allowing for modernization and improved efficiency in operations. With private sector expertise in management and technology, the port could see upgrades in logistics, better utilization of space, and streamlined processes that would reduce delays and boost throughput. Enhanced facilities and state-of-the-art equipment could attract increased investments, further stimulating regional economic growth. Moreover, private partners might introduce innovative revenue models and performance incentives that ultimately lead to better service quality. This, in turn, can contribute to higher trade volumes, increased employment opportunities, and a stronger competitive position in the regional maritime sector.

Despite these promising advantages, there are significant concerns regarding the privatization of such a vital public asset. One of the major risks is that private management could prioritize profit over public interest. When profit becomes the main driver, the essential needs of local vendors and small business operators who rely on the port might be overlooked. There is also the danger of increased tariffs and fees, which could ultimately drive down the competitiveness of local products and adversely affect the livelihoods of those who depend on the port for trade. The transition to a privatized model might also lead to job insecurity for long-time port workers if new operational strategies call for restructuring or downsizing. Additionally, there is the issue of transparency and accountability: without strong regulatory oversight, the terms of the PPP could become skewed, leading to the misallocation of funds or the neglect of critical maintenance and safety standards.

Given these challenges, it is imperative that the local government of General Santos exercise meticulous due diligence in the PPP process. First, the government must ensure that the terms of the agreement clearly outline performance metrics, financial accountability, and quality of service standards. A robust regulatory framework should be established to safeguard the public interest, ensuring that any private investment not only modernizes the port but also preserves its accessibility and affordability for local stakeholders. Transparent bidding and contracting processes are essential to prevent corruption and guarantee that the best interests of the community are maintained.

Furthermore, extensive stakeholder consultations should be conducted, involving local merchants, port workers, community leaders, and regional trade representatives. Their insights can help identify potential pitfalls and develop mitigation strategies that balance economic efficiency with social responsibility. The government should also consider setting up an independent oversight committee to monitor the implementation of the PPP, ensuring that the partnership remains aligned with long-term public goals and that the port’s redevelopment genuinely contributes to regional growth.

The privatization of the Port of General Santos, if executed with careful planning and robust oversight, holds the potential to transform a crucial economic asset into a world-class facility that drives regional prosperity. However, the success of this endeavor depends largely on the government’s commitment to protecting public interests while leveraging private sector efficiencies. The balance between innovation and accountability is delicate; thus, a thoughtful, well-regulated approach is the only way to ensure that this redevelopment benefits all stakeholders.

Ultimately, while privatization may bring technological and financial advantages, the social and economic well-being of the community must remain at the forefront of decision-making. The local government’s due diligence, robust stakeholder engagement, and stringent regulatory measures are key to navigating the pros and cons of this complex transition. Only then can we hope to see the Port of General Santos evolve into a modern, efficient, and inclusive hub that continues to serve as a linchpin for the economic vitality of Soccsksargen and Mindanao.

On the positive side, the redevelopment of the central public market under a PPP model promises to infuse much-needed capital and modern management practices into an aging infrastructure. A modernized market can attract more vendors, create a more pleasant shopping environment for consumers, and ultimately stimulate local economic activity. By integrating modern technology, improved facilities, and enhanced security measures, the market can transform into a vibrant center for trade that supports small and medium enterprises. Moreover, the involvement of private partners could lead to more efficient management, innovative marketing strategies, and potentially, an increase in tax revenues for the city. This could also pave the way for further investment in other public amenities, ultimately elevating the overall quality of urban life.

However, the PPP approach is not without its drawbacks. A significant concern is the risk of privatization overshadowing the public interest. The market has long been a communal space where local traditions, informal economies, and social interactions converge. There is a real danger that redevelopment, driven by profit motives, might alter this cultural fabric. Private partners might prioritize revenue-generating activities at the expense of affordability and accessibility, potentially marginalizing small-scale vendors who have relied on the market for generations. In addition, there is the risk of increased rents and fees that could push out long-standing vendors, ultimately leading to a loss of the community’s character and heritage. Another issue to consider is the financial risk associated with PPPs. If not carefully structured, such partnerships can lead to cost overruns, misallocation of funds, and eventual conflicts between public and private stakeholders.

Given these complexities, it is essential for the General Santos City local government to conduct rigorous due diligence. First and foremost, the local government must ensure that the PPP contract clearly defines the roles, responsibilities, and expected outcomes for both public and private partners. Transparency is paramount; the terms of the agreement should be made public to maintain accountability and to assure stakeholders that the redevelopment will prioritize community benefits. Independent audits and periodic evaluations should be built into the contract to monitor progress and address any discrepancies in implementation or financial management.

Furthermore, the local government must engage in robust stakeholder consultations. This includes not only the private entities involved in the redevelopment but also the market vendors, consumers, and local community groups who depend on the market as a public space. Gathering input from these stakeholders can provide valuable insights into their concerns and aspirations, ensuring that the redevelopment is not only economically viable but also socially sustainable. The government should also assess potential impacts on the local informal economy, exploring ways to integrate traditional vendors into the modernized market structure rather than displacing them.

Equally important is the need for the local government to establish regulatory frameworks that balance profit and public interest. By setting limits on rent increases, guaranteeing spaces for small vendors, and ensuring that any revenue-sharing arrangements include reinvestment into community services, the government can protect the social and economic fabric of the market. Policies must be enacted to safeguard the market’s cultural significance while still fostering economic growth.

The General Santos City Water District (GSCWD) holds a critical role in this initiative. As the primary entity responsible for water distribution, the GSCWD can spearhead efforts to explore sustainable water sources, promote water conservation, and reduce the city’s dependency on groundwater. To do so, the GSCWD must adopt more robust water management practices, including efficient allocation, improved infrastructure, and exploration of alternative sources, such as spring sites in the region.

Several areas around General Santos are blessed with natural springs, including Dacera, Bonifacio, and Olaer/Lagare springs. Springs in Barangays Tinagacan, Conel, Upper Labay, San Jose, Ligaya, and Labangal offer additional potential sources. A well-planned effort to harness these resources, coupled with measures to preserve these springs, could supplement the city’s water supply. However, this requires careful management to ensure sustainability and ecological protection.

One of the spring sites in General Santos City

The City Council also has a substantial role to play. Through effective regulation, the council can establish policies that limit groundwater extraction, enforce stricter water use standards, and provide incentives for water conservation. Comprehensive policies should include zoning regulations that protect critical watersheds and spring sites from development or pollution, ensuring the preservation of these vital resources. Moreover, the council could impose restrictions on high water-use industries and incentivize businesses and residents to adopt water-saving practices.

Educational institutions in General Santos, such as Mindanao State University, UST, and Notre Dame of Dadiangas University, can significantly contribute through research and public education. These institutions have the capacity to conduct in-depth studies on sustainable water management and to explore innovations in water conservation technology. They can also raise awareness about water issues among students and the broader community, fostering a culture of environmental stewardship. Such involvement would provide vital data to inform the city’s water strategy and empower future leaders to address these challenges responsibly.

A sustainable water strategy for General Santos City should not only focus on the immediate need for water but also consider the long-term environmental and economic impacts. An integrated sewerage system is essential to protect water sources from contamination, especially as the population continues to grow. A well-maintained sewerage infrastructure would prevent pollutants from seeping into the groundwater and nearby springs, ensuring the cleanliness and safety of the water supply.

Investing in urban parks brings substantial returns on health. Parks encourage physical exercise, relaxation, and social interaction, which improve mental health, reduce stress, and promote physical well-being. These benefits translate to economic savings through reduced healthcare costs and improved quality of life. Understanding these connections can guide local governments in making informed decisions about urban planning.

To maximize these benefits, I encourage the local government units (LGUs) of General Santos City to consider expanding park spaces across the locality. Potential sites in Barangay Bula (Gensanville), Baluan, Buayan, and Fatima could be developed into new parks. Additionally, strategic buyouts of land in barangays like San Jose, Siguel, Upper Labay, Conel, and Sinawal could create restricted forest reserves, preserving the city’s natural beauty and biodiversity. Transforming riverside portions of City Heights, Dadiangas North and West, Labangal, and Apopong into linear parks lined with trees would enhance the aesthetic appeal of these areas while providing environmental benefits, unlike concrete-heavy alternatives.

These initiatives would not only boost the city’s green infrastructure but also position General Santos City as a model for sustainable urban development. Investing in parks is an investment in the health, happiness, and future resilience of our community.

Br. Bob’s initiatives touched countless lives. He helped establish the Business Resource Center Foundation, which provided essential training, consulting, and financial support to entrepreneurs, creating pathways for employment, particularly for “out of school” youth enrolled in the Marist Technical Training Programs. His vision also led to the creation of the Mother and Child Center, which offers critical healthcare services to indigent families in SOCSARGEN, made possible through funding he secured from the German Doctors Association.

Bro Robert McGovern, FMS

One of his proudest achievements was boosting the local economy by supporting the development of a new fish seaport and collaborating with USAID to build an airport, enabling efficient fish exports to Manila. These efforts created thousands of jobs, strengthened local businesses, and helped the fishing industry in South Cotabato and Sarangani to thrive.

In recognition of his profound contributions, Pope John Paul II awarded Br. Bob the Pro Ecclesia et Pontifice medal in 1993, the highest honor given to laity by the Papacy. Yet, his legacy in General Santos City remains a testament to his vision, compassion, and leadership.

As General Santos City looks to the future, it would be fitting to honor Br. Bob’s memory by naming a local leadership award after him, memorializing his name on critical infrastructure like the airport or fishport, or establishing an annual event—perhaps linked to Yaman Gensan—that celebrates his enduring legacy. Such tributes would ensure that his spirit of service and community empowerment continues to inspire future generations.

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During my stay at a new hotel near the avenue, I had the chance to revisit familiar places, only to find that much of what made Pioneer Avenue special has faded. The major park, which used to be a lively space where families gathered and friends met, now feels dim and neglected, especially at night. The lights are few, and the vibrancy that once characterized the heart of the city is noticeably absent. It is disheartening to see such a crucial part of the city’s identity slowly fade away.

With the local elections approaching in May 2025, there is hope that new leadership will bring fresh ideas and initiatives to reinvigorate General Santos City. The city, once dubbed as “the city without a soul,” deserves leaders who understand the importance of creating spaces that foster community engagement and cultural vibrancy. My hope is that the next generation of leaders will prioritize the revival of Pioneer Avenue and other parts of the city, bringing life back to its streets, parks, and public spaces.

The landscape of any city may have changed, but as the Spanish historian’s Ortiz Armengol observed, its streets and outline remain.

It is up to the General Santos City’s leaders and community to restore its soul, breathing new life into a place that holds so many memories and untapped potential.