Read before you shoot

By Francis Allan L. Angelo

Somebody went on social media this week and did what has become reflexive for too many public servants in this country: label a news report “fake news” without identifying a single factual error.

The report in question, written by Daily Guardian reporter Rjay Zuriaga Castor, covered the City Council’s approval on April 8 of an ordinance regulating mobile food kiosks and food trucks. The headline read: “New Iloilo City rules hit mobile food vendors.” The story laid out the ordinance’s key provisions — the licensing framework, the 20-meter buffer zone around sensitive institutions, the prohibited vending areas, and the penalties for violations. It also quoted the ordinance’s author, Councilor Rudolph Ganzon, explaining the measure’s intent to give mobile food vendors legal recognition.

That was enough, apparently, to provoke an online meltdown from a city hall functionary who either did not read the story or read it and simply did not like how it was framed. No correction was demanded. No factual error was cited. No misquoted provision was flagged. Just the now-familiar drive-by: “fake news.”

Let us walk through the facts.

The ordinance was approved by the City Council on April 8. That is a matter of public record.

Does the ordinance grant these vendors legal recognition and a defined framework to operate? Yes. Ganzon himself said the ordinance gives mobile food vendors “the legality to exist.” The story quoted him directly.

Are food trucks and kiosks barred from operating within 20 meters of schools, hospitals, churches, government offices, and similar institutions? Yes. The ordinance designates these as “sensitive institutions” and establishes a buffer zone, unless operators obtain special permits or prior written approval.

Are these restrictions intended to safeguard public safety, order, and the quiet enjoyment of surrounding areas? Yes. The ordinance says so in its own text.

Does the ordinance impose penalties — fines starting at P1,000 for a first offense, escalating to P3,000 and a 15-day suspension for a second, with possible license revocation for repeat violations? Yes. These are written provisions, not editorial inventions.

Did the story note that Councilor Sheen Marie Mabilog raised a qualified objection, calling some provisions potentially “anti-poor”? Yes. The report included that dissenting view, which is what responsible journalism does — present the full picture, not just the flattering half.

Every claim in the report is drawn from the text of the ordinance or from direct statements by its author. These are not assumptions, distortions, or selective readings. They are facts, reported accurately and in context.

So here is the question that the ranting official needs to answer: Which specific part of the report is incorrect? Which provision was misquoted, misrepresented, or fabricated? If a genuine error exists, point to it. We will correct it. That is what newsrooms do. But vaguely waving the “fake news” flag from behind a Facebook account is not a correction. It is not even a complaint. It is pure hogwash wrapped in noise.

If the real grievance is that the headline or the framing did not sit well — that the word “hit” felt too strong, or that the story emphasized restrictions alongside recognition — then that is a matter of editorial judgment, not factual accuracy. And there is a canyon-wide difference between the two.

The headline captured a legitimate dimension of the ordinance. Regulation, by definition, imposes limits. An ordinance that establishes buffer zones, designates no-vending areas, requires multiple permits and clearances, and prescribes escalating penalties does, in fact, “hit” vendors with new rules. That is not spin. That is what the ordinance does. Reporting it is not hostility but a matter of accuracy.

While it was first filed in 2025, it is also worth placing this ordinance in its proper context. Iloilo City is the country’s first and only UNESCO Creative City of Gastronomy — a designation that carries both prestige and responsibility. The regulation of mobile food vendors is part of the city’s broader campaign to professionalize and elevate its food industry to meet the standards that come with that global recognition. The ordinance, in other words, is not an arbitrary crackdown. It is a policy instrument tied to a larger vision. The report did not dispute that vision. It reported the mechanism — including the parts that impose new burdens on vendors in the spirit of accuracy and completeness.

It is also worth noting that the entire council majority, meaning all allies of the sitting mayor, approved the ordinance after much haggling on some controversial provisions like banning mobile vendors from locating near restaurants and requiring them to take out insurance policies.

Only Councilor Sheen Marie Mabilog voted against the measure.

The ordinance, while approved by the City Council, will have to get the nod of the executive. Under the Local Government Code, the mayor retains the power to veto any ordinance she considers inimical to public welfare. If the provisions on restricted areas or the buffer zones are, as Councilor Mabilog suggested, potentially “anti-poor,” that concern now sits with Mayor Raisa Treñas-Chu for review. The legislative process is not over. The report captured the ordinance at a specific and accurate point in that process — council approval — and said so. Calling that “fake news” betrays either a misunderstanding of how local legislation works or a deliberate attempt to muddy the waters.

Journalism does not exist to launder policy into press releases. It is not the communications arm of any government office. If officials want coverage that reads like it was drafted by their public information officer, they are welcome to post it on their own pages. But they cannot — and should not — expect the press to function as an echo chamber.

What troubles me more is the casual deployment of “fake news” does to public discourse. That phrase has been weaponized so thoroughly in Philippine politics that it has lost all meaning. Every inconvenient report, every unflattering headline, every story that does not parrot the official line gets slapped with the same label. The result is that when actual disinformation surfaces — the coordinated kind, the kind designed to manipulate — the public has been numbed into shrugging it off. The boy has cried wolf too many times.

Public servants, of all people, should understand this. They are bound by Republic Act 6713, the Code of Conduct and Ethical Standards for Public Officials and Employees, which demands professionalism, courtesy, and propriety in the discharge of their duties. That standard does not evaporate the moment they log on to social media. A government employee who behaves like a comment-section troll — hurling accusations without evidence, discrediting the press without substantiation — is not defending the city’s reputation. They are undermining their own credibility and the institution they represent. Kaluluoy man boss mo.

There are proper channels for grievances against media. If an official believes a report is inaccurate, they can contact the reporter or the editor. They can send a formal letter. They can file a complaint with the Iloilo Media-Citizen Council, which exists precisely to mediate disputes between the public and the press. These mechanisms require specificity. They require evidence. They require the courage to stand behind a claim in the open, not behind the safety of a social media post.

That is what accountability looks like — for journalists and for public officials alike.

We hold ourselves to it every day. Every byline carries a name. Every story is subject to scrutiny. When we get something wrong, we own it and correct it. We do not ask for immunity from criticism. We ask only that the criticism be grounded in facts, not in feelings or your personal and pecuniary interests.

Disagree with the angle — that is every citizen’s right, and we respect it. Offer context that was missed — we will listen. But do not call a factually sound report “fake news” simply because it reported the full scope of a policy rather than only its most palatable parts.

The report stands on the provisions of the ordinance. It stands on the public record. It stands on the direct words of the ordinance’s author.

If anyone can demonstrate otherwise, the Daily Guardian’s doors — and phone lines — are open.

Until then, the story stands.