02/05/2026
Leadership
The hardest test of leadership is facing the people who trusted you when the plan begins to hurt them.
Many years ago, I recommended to Pure Foods top management that Bukidnon could become an important area for poultry breeding.
The climate was cool. The elevation was ideal. The farms I had seen there were producing excellent, world-class results.
So in 1995, we helped build 14 breeder farms in Bukidnon, each with a capacity of 20,000 birds, through contract breeding with local entrepreneurs.
Then the market turned.
The industry suffered from overproduction. Integrators were losing money for every chicken sold. The painful direction was to cut production to the barest minimum and wait for the market to recover, which could take years.
That meant stopping the new Bukidnon farms, even those already loaded or nearly ready.
My boss warned me not to go personally. He feared for my safety. The growers had invested heavily, using their life savings and bank loans, because they trusted what we represented.
But I knew I had to face them myself. If they were angry, if they raised their voices, if they questioned our decisions, I was prepared to listen and apologize. Deep down, I felt I owed them that.
So I flew back to Bukidnon.
The growers were shocked. Some were furious. I could feel the heaviness in the room.
But I told them the truth. No sugarcoating. No false promises. No answers I did not have.
I could not tell them when production would resume because I honestly did not know.
They were still disappointed, but they thanked me for facing them personally.
That day taught me something I never forgot. People can accept bad news better than false hope.
Then we looked for a way forward.
A new poultry integrator in Cagayan Valley needed day-old chicks because their own facilities were delayed. We offered our supply. We were only the third supplier being evaluated.
We did not just sell chicks. We served.
I assigned one farm manager full-time to support them. Before every placement, he checked the facilities and helped train the farm workers.
For every truckload of chicks, we also sent ten cartons of free instant noodles for the farm workers.
Small gesture. Big message. We were there to help, not just to sell.
After two months, we won the full supply contract. When we computed the volume, we realized we no longer needed to close the Bukidnon farms.
So I flew back again. This time, with better news. No farms would be culled. Placements would continue as originally scheduled.
That season left me with a lesson I still carry.
Leadership is not only about seeing opportunity before others do. It is also about standing before the people who trusted you when the opportunity becomes painful.
When the news is bad, do not hide behind memos, titles, or distance.
Face the people. Tell the truth. Accept the anger. Apologize when needed. Then work quietly with others to find a way forward.
Because sometimes, courage is not a grand speech. Sometimes, it is simply entering the room you are afraid to enter and staying long enough to do what is right.