Do Not Oversimplify Nutrition
I have been teaching and researching community nutrition for more than twenty years. During that time, I have seen how nutrition issues often only attract attention when stunting rates rise or cases of malnutrition emerge. Therefore, when the state finally placed nutrition on the national agenda, I naturally welcomed it with optimism.
However, that excitement did not completely put me at ease. One thing continues to trouble my mind: we might be looking at the nutrition problem in a way that is too simplistic.
Lately, public attention has been heavily focused on the Nutrition Fulfilment Service Units (SPPG). Various institutions are being encouraged to manage them, from foundations and community organisations to universities and the Indonesian National Armed Forces (TNI) and Police. A debate has ensued: who is most suitable to manage the kitchens, who is the most prepared, and who is the most trusted.
In my view, this debate is important, but it does not touch on the real issue.
In class, I often remind students that nutritional status is the result of a system. Therefore, whenever I hear nutrition being narrowed down to a matter of food distribution, I always feel something is missing from our perspective. Behind a plate of food is a mother who may have been anaemic since before pregnancy. There is a family struggling to afford nutritious food. There is poor sanitation, limited clean water, low education levels, and an environment that does not support child development.
Perhaps it is because of my background as a nutrition lecturer, accustomed to seeing a programme’s success by its impact rather than by the number of activities carried out. Kitchens can be added, millions of portions of food can be distributed, but our work is not finished if many pregnant women remain anaemic and children are still not growing optimally. Ultimately, the goal is not the amount of food distributed, but the quality of human life.
I worry when the conversation about nutrition slowly shifts into a conversation about projects. What is widely discussed is no longer how to improve the community’s nutritional status, but who builds the kitchens, who manages the budget, and who implements the programme. As an academic, I feel this shift should be watched closely. Nutrition science ends up losing its space, replaced by administrative and project logic.
The Village Cooperative Red and White programme, for instance, is projected to involve massive financing. The same applies to various initiatives related to the SPPG. The larger the budget managed, the greater the responsibility that comes with it. Unfortunately, our experience shows that large budgets are almost always followed by public concerns over governance.
Public suspicion does not arise without reason. Indonesia still faces serious problems in financial governance. Annual reports from Indonesia Corruption Watch and the Audit Board of Indonesia show that budget irregularities remain an unresolved issue. In such a situation, it is only natural that any trillion-rupiah project invites questions from the public.
I do not wish to get caught up in debating the rightness or wrongness of a particular case. What is far more important is to learn that any large-scale programme must be built on strong governance. When the scope of budget management widens, the opportunity for irregularities also grows if the oversight system is inadequate.
As an academic, I also see the need to maintain the independence of universities. Higher education institutions can certainly contribute through research, programme evaluation, local food innovation, and the development of more effective nutrition intervention models. However, I disagree with the idea of campuses becoming too deeply involved in project management.
I also hope that universities do not lose their identity. Their greatest contribution lies not in their ability to manage kitchens, but in their courage to test policies with scientific evidence. Campuses must remain spaces that are free to ask questions, free to criticise, and free to present findings, even if the results are not always pleasing to the government.
In Islam, fulfilling the basic needs of the people is a mandate of the state. Food is not merely an economic commodity, let alone a project measured by the size of budget absorption. The Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) reminded us that every leader is a guardian and will be held accountable for their people. This message is simple yet profound. The state’s presence is not enough through programmes alone; it must ensure that these programmes truly bring about public welfare.
Therefore, I hope the direction of national nutrition policy does not stop at building kitchens or distributing food. We need a more comprehensive approach. Nutrition interventions must go hand in hand with improving maternal health, strengthening primary healthcare services, providing clean water and sanitation, offering social protection for poor families, delivering nutrition education, and strengthening food security based on local potential.
All of this is certainly not as easy as building a kitchen. The results also cannot be seen in a matter of months. But that is precisely the great task of nutrition development. Changing nutritional status always requires patient, consistent, and science-based work.
I believe the state has good intentions to improve the quality of public nutrition. But good intentions alone are not enough. A good programme must be supported by sound policies, clean governance, and the courage to be continuously evaluated.
In the end, our goal is not to build as many kitchens as possible. Our goal is to build a healthy generation. Nutrition speaks about the whole human being—about maternal health, about children who grow optimally, and about a society that is healthy and productive.