Alfonso “Alfie” Esguerra, Jr. leads not just with authority, but with conviction — and a vision that stretches far beyond the next harvest.
There is a kind of farmer who plants not just for himself, but for everyone who will ever sit down to a meal. Alfonso “Alfie” Esguerra, Jr. is that kind of farmer — and that kind of leader.
Born on November 27, 1961, Alfie grew up in Pasay, the son of parents who traced their roots to Bulacan. Life eventually led him far from the city. In 1988, he packed up and moved to San Jose, Occidental Mindoro, where he built a farm growing palay, niyog, and mangoes — and, in time, built something far larger: a legacy of service and a reputation as one of the region’s most outspoken advocates for farmers and fisherfolk.
Today, he serves as Regional Agricultural and Fishery Council (RAFC) Chairperson of the MIMAROPA Region — a role he carries with the same vocal, unrelenting conviction he brings to every consultation, every policy push, and every furrow he plants.
A Seat at the Table, Earned Row by Row
Alfie’s entry into the Agricultural and Fishery Council (AFC) did not begin with ambition. It began with a friend.
Seeing how genuinely fulfilled a fellow AFC member named Priscilla was in her involvement with the Council, Alfie accepted her invitation to join without hesitation. What started as an act of friendship became a calling. He served as Provincial Agricultural and Fishery Council (PAFC) Sectoral Representative beginning in 2010, then rose to PAFC Chairperson from 2014 to 2021. In 2021, he was recognized as Outstanding PAFC Chairperson during the National Volunteers’ Day — an honor rooted in his sustained advocacy for the Mangyan indigenous communities of Occidental Mindoro, whom he served through outreach programs, awareness-raising, and access to capacity building. In 2022, he stepped into the regional arena as RAFC Chairperson.
He has since become a dynamic and consistent presence at PCAF consultations at the national sectoral committee level — speaking up on agri-fisheries mechanization, international trade, fruits and vegetables, rice, and more. Where farmers’ concerns risk being overlooked, Alfie makes sure they are heard.
More Than a Harvest: Planting for Generations
Ask Alfie what drives him, and he will speak not about himself, but about what the next generation will eat.
Food security is his foremost cause — and he holds it with the kind of urgency that only someone who works the land can fully understand. “Masyado na talagang bantad ang importasyon,” he says plainly. “Ibig sabihin di talaga napo-produce yung pangangailangan natin na pagkain. Maliban na mag-import tayo, e baka magugutom tayo.“
His vision, however, is not one of alarm — it is one of invitation. He calls on AFCs and fellow farmers alike: “Isama mo yung mga AFC, isama mo yung mga kapwa mo magsasaka, magtanim tayo. Magpatubo tayo.“
For Alfie, farming is not just an occupation. It is an act of love — one whose fruits are shared far beyond the farm gate. “Yung pagkain na prinoduce mo, hindi lang iyo, hindi ba,” he reflects. And to those who wonder whether they need vast landholdings to make a difference, his answer is clear: “Di kailangang napakalaking lupa. Kailangan napakalaking pag-ibig sa pagtatanim.”
He also champions the resilience of farmers against calamities — typhoons, inflation, drought — arguing that beyond land ownership, farmers must be equipped with machinery and enough of a livelihood cushion to weather whatever comes.
Giving Voice to the Voiceless
Alfie’s approach to leadership starts with a discipline that does not come naturally to everyone in positions of power: listening.
“Pakinggan mo talaga sila, yung kanilang hinaing, yung sinasabi nila,” he says. “At malamang sa malamang may matututunan ka rin sa kanya.” But listening, for Alfie, is never passive — it is the foundation from which he speaks louder and pushes harder on behalf of those who cannot always be in the room.
This philosophy has translated into concrete, structural gains. In Occidental Mindoro, AFCs are now embedded in both the Provincial and Municipal Development Councils — not as observers, but as genuine participants. Roughly 70 to 75 percent of the province’s farm-to-market roads were built with direct AFC input. He is now pushing for the same recognition to be extended to the other provinces of the MIMAROPA Region, and advocating for Municipal AFCs to sit as private sector representatives in the Sangguniang Bayan — because, as he points out, the agricultural sector currently has no private sector voice in local legislative bodies. That, to Alfie, is an unacceptable gap — and one he intends to close.
He is equally insistent that the knowledge gained at trainings and seminars must not stay locked in conference rooms. “Ako as RAFC Chair, ang gusto ko sana yung mga natututunan natin sa trainings at seminars, ibaba natin, icascade natin hanggang dun sa grassroots level,” he says. “Yung natutunan natin, pwede rin nilang matutunan yan kahit pa di sila nakapag-aral.“
When Crisis Called
Leadership, Alfie believes, is proven not in ordinary times but in moments of crisis — and it demands action, not observation.
When an oil spill struck Naujan, Oriental Mindoro in 2023, Alfie did not wait for someone else to respond. He led a solicitation drive — reaching out to traders, rice mills, cooperatives, and associations in Occidental Mindoro — gathering rice and canned goods for the affected communities across the strait. “Di naman pwedeng complacent ka lang,” he said. “Isipin mong may mga pamilya yun, may mga anak yun, kumakain yun. Kelangan ng pagkain yun.”
Beyond crisis response, his tenure has also produced lasting wins. Onion producers in the region are now benefiting from a RAFC policy resolution that secured cold storage facilities for their harvest. And a long-envisioned mountain road connecting the city of San Jose and the municipality of Rizal in Occidental Mindoro — a route that would cut travel distance by at least 40 kilometers — has been approved as a project under the DA-Philippine Rural Development Project (PRDP), thanks in part to an RAFC policy resolution he championed.
The Weight of the Chair
Alfie does not pretend the role is easy. If anything, he speaks about its demands with a frank honesty that only deepens respect for why he stays.
As RAFC Chairperson, he says, all eyes are on you — and they are often looking for something to criticize. “Magkamali ako ng isa lang, naka social media ka na. Nasa chat group ka na.” His answer to that pressure is not defensiveness, but discipline and example. “Kung ano yung pamamahalang gusto mo, ipakita mo.” Lead the way you wish others would lead. Perform so well that they will miss you when you’re gone.
There is also the practical burden: travel costs reimbursed months later, time away from family, and the invisibility of volunteer service to those who don’t understand it. When people ask, “Anong makukuha nyo diyan?” — what do you get out of this? — Alfie holds his ground, but he worries about who will follow him.
“Kaya lang pag nakikita nila yung bigat ng responsibilidad, yun ang parang di nila makayanan e,” he admits.
Succession is perhaps his most sobering concern — not because he doubts the next generation, but because he understands exactly how much the role asks of a person.
He also grapples with a shift in farming culture — a growing dependence on government aid that has eroded, for some, the will to plant. “Di na ako magtatanim, may darating naman (na ayuda). Bakit ako magpapainit?” he has heard farmers say. It troubles him deeply. But he is encouraged that government support is increasingly directed toward those who are actively farming — a step, he hopes, toward restoring the dignity and discipline of agricultural work.
A Legacy Still Growing
Alfie Esguerra is a man who could have been content with a good farm and a quiet life. Instead, he chose something harder and more lasting: to serve, to advocate, to speak up — persistently and without apology — for the farmers and fisherfolk who feed a nation that too often forgets their names.
He has five children — three sons and two daughters — all college graduates, some in government service. He has built something for them. But the legacy he is most deliberate about is the one that belongs to everyone: food on the table, voices in the council, and a generation of farmers who know their work matters.
“Yung nagtatrabaho lang for compliance lang,” he says, describing what he refuses to be. “Iba yung ginawa mo talaga ng dibdiban. Iba yung pinush mo talaga. Ibang klase yun, ibang resulta nun.”
Different effort. Different result. That, in the end, is the Alfie Esguerra way.
