ESSAY: In defense of the kamote

GMA Network

24-05-2025

Languishing in Congress is a proposed law that some headlines have dubbed the 'anti-kamote driver bill.'
It's pure clickbait.
When you actually read the bill, it's clear that it aims to protect innocent drivers from being unlawfully detained after accidents, a necessary safeguard for due process. There's nothing in the text that addresses the behaviors typically associated with so-called 'kamote drivers.'
So why drag the kamote into it at all?
Because the word has become viral shorthand that could catch eyeballs: a lazy, derogatory label for reckless motorists and motorcycle riders. And in doing so, we've allowed a vital, nutritious, and culturally significant crop to be reduced — again — to an insult.
It's time to take the kamote back.
The association with traffic chaos is just the latest instance of a century-long practice of maligning the kamote. 'Nangangamote' is a dreaded label that no student wants, and no one wants to hear a teacher (or boss) say, 'Go home and plant kamote!'
But it's unfair — not to the students, drivers, and riders but to the kamote.
The bullying of the kamote has to stop.
We should be glorifying the kamote and not equating it with failure, stupidity, or recklessness.
The kamote, along with a wide array of other root crops grown across the Philippines, has long been hailed by nutrition experts as a superfood. It's a nutritional powerhouse rich in fiber, amino acids, and vitamins, including brain-boosting B6.
Scientists have studied its potential to lower hypertension, bad cholesterol, and blood sugar. And it's versatile, whether as talbos ng kamote salad or the beloved streetside kamote cue.
But its value goes beyond nutrition.
The kamote is a low-maintenance crop. It requires little to no fertilizer and pesticides, and grows underground, naturally shielded from typhoons and extreme heat, the same climate shocks that devastate rice farmers. In a warming world, kamote isn't just a food; it's the meaning of resilience, perhaps even the key to survival.
Now compare that to rice: exalted, pampered, politically weaponized.
In 2022, Ferdinand Marcos, Jr. won on a campaign promise to make rice cheap. Today, that promise haunts his administration.
Filipinos love rice deeply. Many eat it three times daily. Some even soak it in coffee! Then come the rice-based desserts. Woe unto the politician who dares suggest cutting down on unli rice consumption. But any sensible doctor will tell you: that might help you live longer.
Polished white rice stripped of key nutrients contributes to obesity and diabetes.
Medical anthropologist Gideon Lasco has noted that rice was once a prestige food, grown in uplands and consumed by elites. What did the rest of the population eat? Hardy, nutritious root crops like kamote.
Rice became an aspirational food for the kamote-dependent masses. They lacked prestige, but also rarely faced the health problems now linked to white rice.
The American colonial period sealed the fates of both crops. Fernando Amorsolo's romanticized paintings of rice farmers helped elevate rice as a national symbol, tying it to idyllic visions of rural life. At the same time, agricultural expansion and new techniques made rice more accessible. It was no longer reserved for the elite.
Yet for many poor Filipinos, kamote and other root crops remained the everyday staple. Rice was saved for birthdays, fiestas, and other special occasions.
Meanwhile, American colonial teachers were known to insult students by calling them 'kamote eaters' — a slur that did more than shame diets. It planted the idea that indigenous ways of living, eating, and thinking were backward.
Over time, this colonial mentality took root, normalizing the view of kamote and much of native Filipino culture as inferior. What was once an anchor for a healthy, self-reliant lifestyle became a punchline, a marker of shame.
It doesn't help that the word kamot — as in the reflexive head-scratch (kamot-ulo) of rules-challenged riders and drivers — sounds almost like kamote. (Kamote actually comes from the Aztec word camotli, a culinary remnant of the two-hundred-year galleon trade between Mexico and the Philippines.)
Today, with the sheer number of motorcycles on the road, riders have become both the most common victims and leading causes of the spike in road crashes. The term kamote rider has become iconic, not for any romantic reasons but as a symbol of disregard for traffic rules.
With all that negative baggage, what hope does the kawawang kamote have of being embraced by nutrition-challenged youth?
It's a cultural challenge with food-security implications.
The Philippines is now the world's biggest rice importer. With a growing population and shrinking farmlands, rice self-sufficiency is no longer a dream but a delusion. Much of our rice now comes from China, handing them yet another geopolitical lever to tighten around our future.
But there's a native solution hiding in plain sight: our root crops.
By increasing consumption of locally grown kamote, gabi, cassava, taro, and other underground carbohydrates, we can reduce our dependence on imported rice and reclaim a part of our culinary heritage. As Dr. Gideon Lasco notes, traditional sinigang with gabi already offers a complete, satisfying meal. No rice needed.
Root crops aren't just food. They're food security. They're health. They're sovereignty. As we say of the West Philippine Sea, 'Atin 'to.'
Yet rebranding the kamote might be just as important as promoting its nutritional value. That's already started with experts like Dr. Lasco and former Health Secretary Janet Garin publicly extolling its virtues.
To truly counter the kamote stereotypes in popular culture, we need more than endorsements from doctors and scientists.
Celebrities and fast-food giants must step in and celebrate kamote as a superfood that fuels both brains and bodies.
Political and community leaders must champion its cultivation, investing in research and reviving traditional knowledge of native preparations. Chefs can turn it into the next big food trend, reinventing kamote for a new generation.
And let's be honest: the problem isn't the kamote, it's the reckless riders. So let's rebrand them. Call them Team Balagbag. Singit Riders. Lubak Legends. Just leave kamote out of it.
It's time we looked down not to belittle but to rediscover the power beneath our feet.