A shared table

Filipinos love to eat and we want company when eating. Our trademark hospitality is specially shown during meals — something as simple as a seat at the table can mean everything.

In 2019, I attended the national convention of internal auditors in Cebu City hosted by the Association of Government Internal Auditors Inc. (AGIA). I came for the conference and everything was just extra. Totally unexpected was the quiet presence of a separate buffet spread just for Muslim participants. This has remained in my heart.

There was a simple sign, a respectful announcement made whenever meals were served to let Muslim participants know that a dedicated halal buffet was available. There was no fanfare but the sincere intention was obvious to all. For someone who has grown used to scanning menus or quietly skipping meals, it was more than a gesture — it was inclusivity in action.

I later learned that AGIA has been doing this for a long time. It wasn’t about my presence or anyone requesting special treatment. It was part of how they extended respect.

That convention was memorable also for another reason: I was elected to AGIA’s board and throughout my term, the consideration continued — at meetings, trainings and major gatherings a no-pork meal was always quietly set aside for me. No fuss. Just thoughtful consistency.

For this, I am grateful to Maureen, Trisha, and the entire AGIA secretariat. They may not have known much about halal, but they knew enough to make a space — and that made all the difference.

For many Filipino Muslims living outside the BARMM and other predominantly Muslim areas, halal food is always hard to find — often overlooked in school canteens, government functions, disaster response and public events.

Halal — Arabic meaning permissible — refers to, among other things, food prepared according to Islamic dietary guidelines, how animals are slaughtered, how ingredients are handled, and how food is kept free from prohibited substances like pork and alcohol. For Muslims, it is not a preference — it is a way of life.

So when no halal options are present, we often make do by bringing our own food or quietly going without. It is not because we want to stand out. It is because we want to stay true.

Still, there is progress.

We have the Department of Trade and Industry (DTI) with its commitment to the Philippine halal sector. We acknowledge the National Commission on Muslim Filipinos (NCMF) for its ongoing policy work and awareness-building. We recognize the many NGOs, businesses and advocates working at the grassroots — developing halal access where before there was none.

We have small, personal efforts: a cafeteria worker who asks, a co-worker who checks labels, a host who says, “We made sure there’s something for you.”

You don’t have to know everything about halal to make someone feel welcome. Caring is the operative word. It’s not about asking for special treatment. It’s about asking to be included — with respect, dignity and kindness.

We encourage LGUs, schools, institutions, and communities to make room at the table — not out of obligation, but out of a shared humanity — a labeled dish, a mindful menu, a moment of consideration. It doesn’t cost much. But it means the world.

In the Philippines, food is more than food. It is an invitation to belong.

When we keep making space — one plate, one gesture, one person at a time — we build a shared table that truly welcomes everyone.