If you ask whether MBG has become an elite project and whether local councillors (anggota DPRD) are treating it as a business opportunity, based on open reporting and watchdog findings, there is credible evidence of systemic risks and multiple local incidents that support those concerns. MBG—the national Makan Bergizi Gratis programme launched in 2025 to improve child nutrition at schools — is very large in scale and budget, and that scale creates many oversight and procurement vulnerabilities.Investigations and reports by anti-corruption observers and NGOs have highlighted concrete risks: Transparency International Indonesia flagged serious governance weaknesses and estimated considerable potential financial losses at the level of the programme’s service points (SPPGs). Those findings argue the programme, while well-intentioned on paper, has gaps that could be exploited for rent-seeking.Local journalism and civil society groups have published multiple stories alleging that some local legislators or their associates own or control MBG kitchens (dapur MBG), and there are media reports of problems ranging from “ghost” kitchens and fictitious benefit accounts to cases of food safety incidents. These local reports do not yet prove criminality in every instance, but they are consistent across regions and therefore merit serious scrutiny.Several think-tanks and monitoring organisations — and even some politicians — have publicly criticised the involvement of local representatives in the programme as creating conflicts of interest and eroding public trust, while the national agency (BGN) has maintained that procurement is open to partners though it must ensure accountability. In short: the pattern of reporting is worrying and suggests that, in many places, MBG has become an opportunity for local elites to capture parts of the supply chain; however, firm legal determinations require audit trails, procurement records and law-enforcement action.
Over the course of the past month, a disturbing pattern of food poisoning cases connected to the Makan Bergizi Gratis programme has emerged across different provinces in Indonesia, each incident affecting large numbers of schoolchildren. On 17 September 2025, in Banggai Kepulauan, Central Sulawesi, no fewer than 157 pupils were rushed to RSUD Trikora Salakan after showing symptoms such as nausea, vomiting, breathing difficulties, stomach cramps and rashes. Local officials confirmed that while eighty children were discharged after outpatient treatment, seventy-seven had to remain under hospital care, and suspicion quickly fell upon a poorly prepared serving of skipjack fish that formed part of the MBG menu.
On the very same day in Garut, West Java, the programme was once again the subject of unwelcome headlines when 194 pupils were reported ill. Most of them experienced mild symptoms, yet nineteen children required direct treatment at the Kadungora Community Health Centre. The menu at the time consisted of rice, chicken woku, tempeh stir-fry, vegetables and fresh strawberries, all prepared by a local MBG partner kitchen.
Earlier in the month, on 3 September 2025, a further eighty students from Pedamaran in Ogan Komering Ilir were affected after consuming their MBG meals, prompting local authorities to investigate the school kitchens involved. At the end of August, another cluster appeared in Bandar Lampung, where hundreds of pupils at SDN 2 Sukabumi and SMPN 31 Campang Raya fell ill, three of whom had to be hospitalised in intensive care at RS Urip Sumoharjo.
Although the precise figures differ slightly depending on the media outlet, and official laboratory confirmations are still awaited, what is clear is that these incidents are not isolated; they are scattered across Sulawesi, Java and Sumatra, painting a picture of a programme whose noble goals are overshadowed by flaws in safety, preparation, and oversight. No deaths have been reported so far, but the scale of the events — with hundreds of children sick at once — has left parents deeply shaken and has raised urgent questions about accountability.
The recurring outbreaks of suspected food poisoning linked to the Makan Bergizi Gratis programme are best understood as the predictable result of three interacting weaknesses: the very large scale of production, lapses in food-safety practice during handling and distribution, and weak governance of procurement and partner selection.Epidemiological and media reports repeatedly point to microbial contamination and poor temperature control as proximate causes — for example, raw ingredients contaminated before cooking, food prepared too early and then delivered late, or inadequate hygiene in kitchens that were not experienced in mass production. Those operational failures allow bacteria such as Salmonella or E. coli to multiply and produce the sudden, clustered illnesses we have seen.At the same time, governance gaps make the programme vulnerable to low-quality suppliers and to conflicts of interest at the local level. Civil-society risk assessments and investigative reporting have emphasised that MBG rolled out rapidly without sufficiently binding regulations, leaving implementation dependent on locally appointed kitchens and partners; where local political actors or legislators have influence over those kitchens, the incentives to cut corners or to channel contracts to cronies increase markedly.
Multiple recent regional reports and investigative pieces indicate that allegations of local councillors or their associates controlling MBG kitchens are widespread and not limited to gossip in coffee shops. Several news outlets have reported that some Satuan Pelayanan Pemenuhan Gizi (SPPG) kitchens have links to regional legislators, and those reports have provoked official responses and calls for internal review.A number of local newspapers and portals named specific areas where the phenomenon is alleged to have occurred, and at least one city council (DPRD) has already initiated an internal review or asked its ethics body to examine claims that members are involved in MBG vendor operations.Civil-society groups and student organisations in Sulawesi have publicly alleged irregularities in vendor selection and potential financial losses connected to MBG implementation, urging law enforcement and audit bodies to investigate procurement records and contract awards. Those demands underline that the issue has moved beyond rumour into organised civic scrutiny.The national nutrition agency (BGN) and other central actors have been repeatedly asked to clarify whether programme rules permit elected officials to own or manage partner kitchens; media coverage shows the agency has been pressed for explanations while local reporting continues to produce new leads. This pattern — national denials or clarifications coupled with ongoing local allegations — is consistent with an unfolding governance problem that merits a formal, independent audit.Taken together, the best-supported conclusion from publicly available sources is that there are credible, geographically dispersed allegations that some MBG kitchens are linked to DPRD members or cronies, that local legislatures in at least some districts are examining the claims, and that civil society has demanded independent audits — but that a comprehensive, nationwide audit or prosecution that definitively proves systemic capture has not yet been published in a verified official report.
Centralised production models — where one or a few “partner” kitchens prepare meals for many schools — also concentrate risk: a single contaminated batch or an inexperienced central operator can affect hundreds of children at once, rather than creating smaller, more manageable incidents. Experts therefore recommend smaller-scale, better-supervised production or clear certification and continuous audit of central kitchens.Improved procurement transparency, full disclosure of which entities run each Satuan Pelayanan Pemenuhan Gizi (SPPG) kitchen, routine microbiological testing, mandatory cold-chain protocols, and clear prohibitions on elected officials owning or directly managing service providers would materially reduce recurrence. These are both practical sanitary interventions and anti-capture safeguards: the technical fixes without parallel governance reform will only partially solve the problem.
In a matter so sensitive as the recent wave of schoolchildren poisoned by MBG lunches, the government, in this case BGN, must respond with a blend of urgency and prudence, for nothing corrodes public trust more swiftly than the sight of children falling ill from a programme ostensibly designed to nourish them. The first action must be to impose a transparent and independent investigation into every reported incident, not merely to establish culpability but also to restore a sense of accountability to parents who now feel abandoned. A proper traceability system of MBG procurement, preparation, and distribution must follow, ensuring that no contractor or supplier is shielded from scrutiny, however politically connected they may be. Equally crucial is the introduction of rigorous safety audits, conducted unannounced and published openly, so that trust is rebuilt not by words but by verifiable practice. Beyond bureaucratic repair, the government must open genuine channels of dialogue with parents’ associations, not to dictate terms but to listen and incorporate community oversight into the monitoring of school meals. Only by combining structural reform with social participation can the programme avoid becoming another hollow policy experiment at the expense of the nation’s children.
The stated objective of the Makan Bergizi Gratis (MBG) programme is not only to secure immediate nutritional benefits for schoolchildren, but also to stimulate economic activity by creating stable demand for local agricultural produce, small-scale food processors, and service providers such as caterers and transporters. In its ideal form, the policy functions as both a social safety net and a micro-economic growth engine: children are healthier, attendance improves, and local farmers and kitchen operators receive predictable income streams.However, when political elites such as regional councillors or their associates seize control of MBG kitchens, the intended circulation of benefits is distorted. Instead of dispersing opportunity across farmers, cooperatives, and micro-enterprises, the flow of contracts risks being monopolised by a small circle of connected actors. The economic multiplier effect is thus weakened, and public trust in both the nutrition programme and local governance is corroded. In economic terms, this represents leakage: funds allocated for broad-based development are partially captured by rent-seekers, diminishing the overall growth impact.The public-health consequences of such leakage are equally serious. If politically connected operators cut corners to maximise profit — for example, by lowering food quality, reducing hygiene standards, or sourcing from unreliable suppliers — the result can be mass food-poisoning incidents. These events not only endanger children’s health but also undermine the credibility of MBG as a whole, threatening to erode community participation and parental consent. The Brebes case illustrates how rapidly confidence can collapse when responsibility is mismanaged.For these reasons, systematic evaluation of MBG is essential. Independent audits of procurement, kitchen ownership, and food-safety standards must be institutionalised, and mechanisms for community monitoring should be formalised so that parents, school committees, and civil-society groups can raise alarms before small errors escalate into public-health crises. Only by ensuring transparency, eliminating conflicts of interest, and enforcing food-safety standards can MBG fulfil its dual promise: nourishing children while catalysing inclusive economic growth.
Now, back to our topic about Cooperatives.
During the New Order era in Indonesia, the Village Unit Cooperatives, known as KUDs, were initially set up with good intentions—to distribute subsidised fertiliser, provide cheap credit, and support farmers at the grassroots level. However, over time, many of these cooperatives became little more than political tools imposed by the central government. Local officials or military officers were often appointed as leaders, sidelining genuine farmer participation. The democratic spirit of co‑ownership evaporated. After the fall of Suharto’s regime in 1998, around 80 percent of the 7,500 KUDs collapsed, having been propped up by subsidies and riddled with structural corruption.I recall one particular district in Central Java where the cooperative office was once a grand edifice with fancy signage and even vehicles parked out front—symbols of power, not grassroots solidarity. Yet, inside, the building sat empty most of the year. Officials only appeared when there was a government-mandated fertilizer distribution or an annual harvest event. Once those were over, the cooperative faded into obscurity. It became clear that without genuine member ownership or professional governance, the KUDs were destined to fail—collapsing not because cooperatives are flawed in theory, but because they were hijacked in practice.This story from the New Order era serves as a cautionary tale: when cooperatives are built from the top down, treated as political projects rather than member‑driven organisations, they lose their soul. They end up as hollow shells—institutions that exist on paper but fail to serve the people they were meant to empower.A cooperative is more than just a business model; it is a social and economic movement rooted in the values of solidarity, equality, and mutual aid. At its core, a cooperative is an organisation collectively owned by its members—who may be workers, consumers, producers, or residents—and it operates under democratic principles. This means each member has an equal say in decision-making processes, regardless of their capital contribution, ensuring that power and control remain truly in the hands of the people it serves.What sets cooperatives apart from conventional enterprises is their fundamental purpose. While traditional corporations often chase profit maximisation to satisfy external shareholders, cooperatives are driven by the collective interests of their members. Any surplus or profit generated is not hoarded by a select few but is typically reinvested back into the business, distributed fairly among members, or used for community development. In this way, cooperatives aim to create long-term, sustainable value for their stakeholders, not short-term gains for investors.Furthermore, cooperatives are often deeply embedded in their local communities. They support local economies, encourage ethical business practices, and promote social inclusion. In an age where corporate giants dominate the marketplace and wealth inequality continues to rise, cooperatives offer a refreshing alternative—an economy that prioritises people over profit, values over volume, and purpose over power.Scientifically, a co-operative is defined as an autonomous association of persons united voluntarily to meet their common economic, social, and cultural needs and aspirations through a jointly owned and democratically controlled enterprise. This definition, formalised by the International Co-operative Alliance (ICA), reflects a precise economic structure: one that operates not for profit maximisation but for the benefit of its members. In contrast to conventional businesses that prioritise shareholder returns, co-operatives redistribute surplus to their members, reinvest in the community, and function on the principle of “one member, one vote,” regardless of capital contribution.
Philosophically, a co-operative represents more than just an organisational model—it is an expression of a worldview rooted in solidarity, mutual aid, and human dignity. It challenges the premise that competition is the only path to efficiency, and instead promotes collaboration as a more ethical and sustainable mode of human interaction. It embraces the belief that people are not merely consumers or labour units, but individuals capable of self-governance, shared ownership, and collective decision-making. In essence, the co-operative model is a quiet rebellion against economic alienation and a hopeful experiment in democratic economics.From a philosophical perspective, the original purpose of the co-operative was not merely to provide goods or services, but to create a fairer and more humane economic system. When co-operatives first emerged, particularly in early 19th-century Britain, they were envisioned as instruments of social reform—a peaceful alternative to both cutthroat capitalism and the radical revolutions of the time. The founding members believed that people, especially workers, should not be at the mercy of market forces or the whims of wealthy elites. Instead, they should have control over their own livelihoods.
The goal was to build a system rooted in mutual aid, where individuals supported one another not out of charity, but out of shared interest and democratic equality. Co-operatives aimed to restore dignity to labour, ensure fair prices, and eliminate exploitation by middlemen and profiteers. They represented a philosophy that combined practical needs with moral values—economic activity guided by justice, community, and participation. In short, co-operatives were meant to empower ordinary people to become active agents in shaping their economic destiny, rather than passive victims of it.
During the early to mid-19th century, society was undergoing rapid and often brutal transformation due to the Industrial Revolution. Politically, power remained concentrated in the hands of a wealthy elite, with little to no representation for the working class. Parliamentary reforms were slow, and workers had virtually no voice in decisions that affected their livelihoods. Economically, the new factory system generated immense wealth—but only for the owners. Labourers, including women and children, endured long hours in hazardous conditions for meagre wages, and poverty became a widespread feature of urban life.Socially, the class divide widened dramatically. The traditional bonds of village life eroded as people moved into overcrowded cities, losing community support systems in the process. Many families faced hunger, debt, and displacement. In response, mutual aid societies and early trade unions began to emerge, but they often lacked structure or legal support.Culturally, there was a growing belief—especially among progressive thinkers—that society could and should be reorganised on more just and humane principles. Influenced by Enlightenment ideals and Christian ethics, figures like Robert Owen advocated for collective ownership, cooperation over competition, and education as a means of social upliftment. The harsh realities of industrial capitalism, paired with the moral and intellectual currents of the time, created fertile ground for the cooperative idea to take root. It was not merely an economic model—it was a cultural and political rebellion against exclusion, exploitation, and inequality.
[Part 3]The idea of co-operation emerged most vividly in early 19th-century Britain, particularly in industrial towns such as Rochdale, Manchester, and Glasgow—places that were deeply affected by the disruptive forces of the Industrial Revolution. It was here that the working class, facing exploitative labour conditions, inadequate housing, and soaring food prices, began to experiment with collective solutions to their daily hardships. The term “co-operative” was derived from the Latin root cooperari, meaning “to work together,” and it embodied the idea of people uniting voluntarily to meet their shared needs through a democratically controlled enterprise.The most influential expression of this idea appeared in 1844 with the establishment of the Rochdale Society of Equitable Pioneers. These 28 working men, mostly weavers, opened a modest shop selling butter, flour, sugar, and oats—not to maximise profit, but to ensure fairness and quality for members. They referred to themselves as a “co-operative society” because they co-owned the business, shared any surplus earnings equitably, and made decisions collectively. The label "co-operative" therefore was not simply a name; it described a philosophy of mutual benefit, trust, and democratic governance.In time, this term came to define a global movement that rejected competition and selfish profit in favour of solidarity, fairness, and long-term sustainability. It represented a fundamental shift—from “every man for himself” to “all for each other.”There is indeed a notable difference between the early definition of co-operatives and how they are defined in the modern era, although the core ideals remain largely intact.In the early days—particularly in the 19th century—the co-operative was seen primarily as a moral and social mission. It was a response to the injustices of industrial capitalism. Co-operatives were small, community-based efforts led by workers and reformers who sought to challenge exploitation and restore dignity to labour. The emphasis was not on efficiency or scaling, but on fairness, mutual aid, and democratic control. Early co-operatives often viewed themselves as part of a broader movement for social transformation.In contrast, the modern definition—particularly as standardised by the International Co-operative Alliance (ICA)—has become more structured and globally applicable. Today’s co-operatives are defined as autonomous associations of people united voluntarily to meet common economic, social, and cultural needs through a jointly owned and democratically controlled enterprise. The focus now includes professional governance, financial sustainability, legal recognition, and even international collaboration. Many modern co-operatives compete in complex markets, sometimes resembling traditional enterprises in size and operation, though still committed to member benefit and democratic principles.The spirit of cooperation remains, but the form has matured. The early co-operative was a grassroots rebellion; the modern co-operative is a sophisticated alternative.The general concept of a co-operative is rooted in the principle of people coming together voluntarily to meet their shared needs through a jointly owned and democratically managed organisation. A co-operative is not driven by profit for external investors, but by the desire to serve its members. Whether it is about buying groceries, managing housing, gaining access to credit, or producing goods, the co-operative structure prioritises fairness, equality, and collective benefit. At its heart lies the ideal that economic power can—and should—be shared.The older or traditional concept of a co-operative was deeply philosophical and community-oriented. It emerged as a form of resistance to the harshness of industrial capitalism in the 19th century. It was modest in scale, often informal, and guided by values of solidarity and social justice. Early co-operatives functioned as a moral alternative to profit-driven enterprises, focusing on empowering the working class, protecting the vulnerable, and redistributing wealth fairly.In contrast, the modern concept of co-operatives, while still grounded in the same ethical foundations, has become more structured, professional, and legally integrated. Modern co-operatives are often large-scale, strategically managed, and operate across sectors—from agriculture and finance to housing and energy. They comply with regulations, adopt technology, and participate in competitive markets. However, they remain loyal to their core principles: democratic control, member participation, and equitable distribution of benefits. In a way, the modern co-operative is the matured version of the idealistic co-operative—still people-powered, but also business-savvy.Cooperatives remain profoundly relevant in today’s world because they offer a human-centred alternative to profit-driven capitalism. In an age where inequality is widening, job insecurity is rising, and communities are becoming increasingly fragmented, cooperatives reintroduce the idea that economic activity can be both productive and principled. They give ordinary people ownership, a voice in decision-making, and a share in the wealth they help to create. Unlike corporations that often answer only to distant shareholders, cooperatives are rooted in local realities and serve those who are directly involved.Moreover, with growing concerns about climate change, ethical production, and sustainable development, cooperatives are uniquely positioned to lead the way. Their emphasis on collective benefit over individual gain means they are more likely to prioritise environmental and social responsibility. From community-owned renewable energy projects to food co-ops promoting local, organic farming, cooperatives are proving that it is possible to do business without exploiting people or the planet.In a time when trust in large institutions is eroding and people are searching for meaning beyond material wealth, cooperatives offer more than just a business model—they represent a philosophy of fairness, democracy, and resilience. They remind us that the economy should serve people, not the other way around.
