Why People Have an Appetite for BODYFOOD All-Natural

They don’t just want to buy from this brand of artisanal personal care items; they also pay to learn how they are made.

Years ago, a woman pursued her dream of becoming a healer by stepping away from her plan to become a doctor.

Her name was Ana Kamila Gutierrez-Niguidula. And, when she turned away from medical school, what she eventually found herself facing was a line of people from different walks of life, coming to her in pursuit of better health.

This was largely because of BODYFOOD All-Natural, the business she founded in 2001. Now based in one of the subdivisions of Taytay, Rizal, the brand has been cultivating a loyal following for years through the production of artisanal personal care items made with high-quality natural ingredients designed to promote good health and aid in recovery.

Niguidula makes them all by hand, and the response has been so positive that people are no longer content with simply buying her products. Many now take time off work and cross multiple city limits just to learn how she makes them. This is an opportunity she embraces through BODYFOOD’s Makers’ Academy.

“It’s been really surprising,” she said of the reception she has received. It became even more so when doctors themselves began joining those eager to learn from her.

But at the workstation where a significant portion of her life now unfolds—amid marinating tinctures, a backdrop of amber glass bottles, and the rustic charm of old wooden furnishings—she realized this wasn’t too far from where she had always wanted to be.

“The desire was always to be in that field of healing,” she said. “This is just a different form.”

^{Ana Kamila Gutierrez-Niguidula, the founder and head maker of BODYFOOD All-Natural. Photo by Dan Payumo.}

THE SELF-MADE AND THE HAND-MADE

As a biology student at the University of the Philippines Manila (UP Manila,) Niguidula was once focused on getting into medicine.

Aside from meeting the demands of her course, she also frequently volunteered at the Philippine General Hospital (PGH.) She was an idealistic, radical youth who wanted to contribute to the advancement of the medical field.

However, during her final year in college, that aspiration was interrupted by something that has derailed many passions in life: she fell in love—technically.

“We did our thesis,” she said, “and I just loved research. I just loved the laboratory work.” So much so that when she needed a break from schoolwork, it came in the form of a chemistry set she purchased from a bookstore.

Driven by scientific curiosity, she went beyond the limits of that kit and tested other ingredients to see what else she could make. Eventually, all her tinkering culminated in a concoction: a balm that was versatile, healthful, and, apparently, quite effective.

Balm Around—that’s what she ended up calling it. “It’s a quick remedy for different discomforts,” she explained. “It can be a nose rub, it can be used on insect bites, migraines… jellyfish stings…” And while it started out as a gift for her loved ones, it soon—through word of mouth—found its way into the hands of strangers. Suddenly, she had something she could sell—an item that allowed her to make a living while doing something she loved. She was even invited by Tribu, a store in the beach-driven economy of Boracay, to sell her balm there.

“It just ruined [my] whole plan,” she said, laughing. “I discovered that I love to work with my hands. And for a young person like that who has her mind set on what she’s going to do, that’s really a huge problem.”

The creation of Balm Around ultimately swayed her away from pursuing a medical degree. But it also led her deeper into the field of healing.

At BODYFOOD, near the shelf where tubes of Balm Around are stacked for sale, sit rugged but aromatic bars of soap created to address eczema; nearby are charcoal-black variants made to detoxify the body after a workout. On another shelf, dark amber bottles contain throat-soothing concoctions made with honey, turmeric, black pepper, and oregano—ingredients known for their anti-inflammatory and antioxidant properties. Within arm’s reach are bulky candles—soothing when lit but free of paraffin and other potentially toxic fillers. And at nearly every corner of the shop, even among bottles of perfume made with non-toxic ingredients, there is a hint of ginger—one of the oldest natural remedies in the world. It is the olfactory declaration of BODYFOOD’s desire to create items that promote health without posing a danger to it.

This is what followed Balm Around’s success. It is not a deviation from medicine but an attempt to showcase the many forms it can take. The same can be said of being a healer. Modern conventions dictate that this role is often occupied by those with a medical degree. But Niguidula has been trying to prove over the years how untrue that idea is.

^{Balm Around, the product which officially started BODYFOOD All-natural. Dan Payumo.}

FORMULA FOR SUCCESS

On the website of BODYFOOD, Niguidula is designated as its “head maker.” For a time, she was its only maker.

Nikka Aligaen, one of her staff members, shared this. She is now part of BODYFOOD’s team and, along with Jonela Garcia, helps oversee its day-to-day operations. But that wasn’t always the case.

“She used to run this all by herself,” Aligaen said, and that required her to fill many roles. She was an entrepreneur when she launched the endeavor; she was its public relations officer when she personally traveled from Rizal to publication offices in Metro Manila to promote the brand. Now that it has grown to an extent that requires regular assistance, she is also a manager—and a teacher to her employees.

But before she took on all of these roles, she was first a scientist. And like many scientists, she was a bit of a rebel. She still is, and this can be seen in the way her company operates.

When some pediatricians, for instance, began phasing out manzanilla oil—deeming it ineffective in relieving children’s abdominal discomfort—Niguidula had reservations.

Her grandmother, Maria Demetria Olympia, was a pharmacist who used to make manzanilla oil at her home in Camilmil, Calapan, Mindoro. She became one of Niguidula’s earliest influences in applied chemistry. Another was herbalist Romeo Ticzon, a family friend who taught her how to prepare various plant-based remedies when she was young and curious about his craft. In other words, she could not simply be expected to support the phase-out of manzanilla oil.

“I looked into manzanilla, and it turns out that the ones you can buy from conventional drugstores use citronella,” she said. “Manzanilla really means chamomile.” And that is exactly what BODYFOOD uses in its version of the oil.

“It makes sense,” she said. “Chamomile is a carminative. It warms the smooth muscles to relieve flatulence.” Its inclusion in their formula has, apparently, contributed to the product’s success.

As early as 2016—even before it was sold in an amber container—the oil had already been receiving positive reviews. Among those who praised it was mommy blogger Ma. Celin Mendoza. That year, on her website MasterMom Speaks, she wrote that BODYFOOD’s manzanilla oil “has found its use as not just an effective product to warm upset, gassy tummies but is also discovered useful for warming the chest on cold days, lung-allergy days, before bath, before swimming, on the onset of cough and throughout till [users] heal from it.”

In short, it works. This is partly why Niguidula remains confident in selling their version of the product, regardless of what some practitioners of Western medicine say.

“I can be quite stubborn,” she admitted. And that proved to be a useful trait.

During her time at the University of the Philippines Manila and the Philippine General Hospital, Niguidula witnessed how Philippine medicine once shied away from many plant-based formulations. Much of this apprehension stemmed from several factors—from the lack of clinical trials determining safety and effectiveness to some doctors’ preference for what they had spent years studying. Such limitations tended to relegate botanicals to the category of pseudoscience—remedies associated with superstition.

“And that’s so funny,” she said, “because we all know that penicillin and many antibiotics come from plants and microorganisms.” She also noted that some traditional healing practices can, in fact, be supported by science.

Smudge sticks are one example. People once burned them believing they could ward off evil spirits or send prayers to the gods. Niguidula believes they can achieve their intended effect—though not in the way traditionalists imagine.

“They release antibacterial compounds that actually cleanse the air,” she said.

She acknowledged that some health practices have done more harm than good, even if they began with noble intentions. This, too, contributed to the alienation of nonconventional healing. But times have changed, and public perception–at least of botanicals–has improved.

Recently, more plant-based formulations have been recognized for their medicinal value after extensive testing. Four of them, for example, were highlighted at the Philippine Pharma and Healthcare Expo in 2024, according to the Philippine News Agency. These include drugs derived from ulasimang bato (pepper elder) for hyperuricemia; yerba buena for pain relief after operations, dysmenorrhea, childbirth, and circumcision; ampalaya for diabetes; and tsaang gubat as an anti-colic remedy. Meanwhile, in 2007, UP Manila launched the Institute of Herbal Medicine to lead research and development of plant-based drugs in the country.

“It’s getting better now,” she said. But that does not mean she can afford to be lax. After all, BODYFOOD remains an alternative to what people are used to. Consumers are less likely to choose it over their usual purchases and, when they do, it must maximize that opportunity by making an impact and earning their loyalty. To do so, its products must be of consistently high quality.

Maintaining that quality can be challenging, according to Niguidula. The ingredients, for starters, must satisfy standards normally met by producers who take pride in their craft. She believes this compels them to provide the best that their skills can offer, since they have reputations to uphold.

“It’s going to be cheaper if I get from suppliers in the city who already have goods packaged per kilo,” she explained. But many such producers use methods that may compromise quality in favor of quantity. Instead, she chooses to source her ingredients from small farms.

Beeswax is one example. She gets it from farmers in Batangas, who may charge her as much as 1,000 PHP for something she could purchase in Manila for about 200 PHP. “Artisans in their own right,” she calls them. These are the people who sometimes fall short of fulfilling her exact order because, as one farmer once explained, he simply “cannot rush the bees.”

“I love it,” she said. “That is correct. I’m not going to push him to find a way because that might encourage him to put paraffin in the final product.”

This way of doing business has its downsides. It limits production and the number of consumers the company can serve. It also raises material costs, which in turn increase retail prices. The trade-off, however, is that when the products reach buyers, they are largely free of harmful additives. And to Niguidula, that makes them worth the trouble.

“An oncologist once came to me,” she said, recalling one of the doctors who took an interest in BODYFOOD’s products and classes. “She told me that illnesses that normally affect seniors are now more common among children as young as eight.”

According to this oncologist, the cause may lie in what people consume—from hygiene products to cosmetics.

“So the perfumes alone, the things that you spray on your head,” she said, “the things you find in soaps, in your shampoo, your conditioner—toxins are there.”

“Can you imagine that?” she asked.

As a wife to her husband Lloyd and a mother of three, Niguidula can. And that fuels her work.

According to Aligaen, Niguidula has a habit of making safer alternatives for her family instead of relying on commercial products. She continues to expand BODYFOOD’s catalog to meet a range of needs. Recently, she began selling handmade, all-natural katol cones that repel insects without posing a danger to human health. In an effort to broaden the reach of her craft, she also partners with kindred spirits.

One of them is Maria Pia Paz F. Sy, who has witnessed the harmful effects of conventional beauty products. Together, they launched For Keeps Clean Beauty Skincare, a company producing healthy, responsibly sourced cosmetics. It is relatively new—a business born during the pandemic.

“In the story of my formulator’s life,” she said, “For Keeps is a baby.”

And she has more “babies” on the rise because of what BODYFOOD has become.

^{Nature and nurture coexist in the headquarters of BODYFOOD All-Natural. Photo by Dan Payumo.}

COURSE OF NATURE

Question: Why buy a bar of soap from a remote store in Rizal for about 800 PHP when you can purchase one almost anywhere essentials are sold for about 200?

The reasons may vary from person to person. But for at least one BODYFOOD customer—a woman whom Niguidula remembers fondly—the 800-peso soap is worth the money. It feels right on her skin and gives her peace of mind.

“She was pregnant,” Niguidula shared. “She was conscious of toxins because she has very sensitive skin. Her first child also has sensitive skin.” BODYFOOD’s formulas did not irritate them.

One day, this customer asked her for a favor: she wanted to learn how their soaps were made. She promised she was not asking so she could start her own business using their techniques. At first, Niguidula was taken aback.

“Am I afraid that somebody’s going to put up another business like mine?” she asked. “I really don’t have that fear.” Her words soon trailed into laughter. “I just don’t want to teach!”

Apparently, she had already had her fill of that occupation. Prior to making BODYFOOD a full-fledged business—as opposed to treating it as a passion project she earned from—Niguidula was principal of the progressive Holistic Education and Development Center (HEDCen,) a school owned by her parents, artist Emma and businessman Cesar. In that role, she trained teachers and taught children.

“I did that for years,” she said. “I need a break from it.”

But before she could shut down the idea of teaching again, the customer made another attempt to convince her. She said she simply wanted to understand what made BODYFOOD’s soaps work for her.

“That’s nice,” Niguidula recalled thinking. “We should empower people to care about how their stuff is made.” And BODYFOOD was already doing that, to some extent. It is, after all, a business that can only prosper if it gives customers a reason to choose its products over conventional, cheaper, and more accessible alternatives. Empowerment through education is a key component of its continued existence.

Furthermore, the company’s leading figures were prepared for it. Niguidula had a teaching background; Aligaen and Garcia were also former teachers at HEDCen. Additionally, Niguidula once instructed students she fondly calls “Kumonistas”—she ran her own Kumon Center for a time to afford ingredients for her concoctions.

For BODYFOOD to blossom into a learning institution seemed “natural.” And Niguidula is not in the habit of going against what feels natural.

“You have to work around how nature works,” she said. “That’s how you get quality.”

In 2015, BODYFOOD launched the Makers’ Academy, offering crafting classes developed according to the needs of its patrons. It began with basic soap-making. But when students wanted to learn how to make their soaps more distinct, a class on scent play was introduced. The curriculum continued to expand until the academy was teaching perfumery.

The classes are not purely instructional. In Niguidula’s view, she teaches art blended with science. So she found it necessary to go beyond basic teaching techniques to educate her students effectively.

As a result, she occasionally invited students to crafting retreats at her family’s farm in Pililla, Rizal. In some sessions, she even brought in a psychologist to help participants tap into their emotions and memories and create work inspired by something genuine.

Soon, word about the academy spread, and it began catering to a wide range of people.

At BODYFOOD’s current home—located in what used to be HEDCen’s computer lab—senior citizens have walked in hoping for classes to keep their minds stimulated. Housewives have used their downtime to enrich themselves and find community. Professionals have come to learn new skills and reconnect with their artistic side through crafts. Young people, alongside their parents, have attended talks on developing a healthy attitude toward cosmetics.

Nearly everything Niguidula needed to run and expand her brand was taught at the academy. This made it effective enough to help launch about 50 businesses. However, in her view, its true success lies in what BODYFOOD has nurtured within its walls: a community more knowledgeable about nature’s potency, the confidence of new artisans pursuing various endeavors, and a safe space for people to explore in a healthy way.

This was appreciated by Jeff Ponge, a BODYFOOD student whom Niguidula praised for his natural talent. A native of Olongapo, he used to drive across two provinces and navigate Metro Manila’s heavy traffic just to reach the academy’s quiet corner in Rizal.

He said he learned about it through Wiji Lacsamana, the multidisciplinary artist behind the makeup and perfume brand Radioactive Mushrooms in the Forest. Ponge liked the name and her work. It sparked his interest in becoming a maker. After doing some online research about perfumery classes, he stumbled upon BODYFOOD’s Instagram account.

At the time, Ponge felt stuck. He was a curious, artistically inclined man interested in many subjects but was held back by family drama, professional stagnation, and the insecurities that came with them. He was unmotivated and depressed.

BODYFOOD’s academy, however, piqued his interest enough to get him on his feet and try at least one class in 2018. One session led to another, and another.

“I liked it,” he said. “All the activities made me think about things—how to make them, what goes into them. It felt therapeutic in a way.” That therapy left him feeling revitalized. This art form—ultimately inhaled—breathed life back into him.

In 2024, because of BODYFOOD, he was able to share it with the public.

^{For years, BODYFOOD All-Natural has been making products that are gentle but effective. Photo by Dan Payumo.}

BODIES AND BOTANICALS

On May 1, 2024, BODYFOOD celebrated its 23rd anniversary with the launch of the Luya Wall Gallery—a space the brand set aside in its store for artists from various disciplines, including perfumery. This, again, was an expansion that felt natural. BODYFOOD, after all, is based in Rizal, a well-known haven for artists.

“We’ve reached a point where we’d like to celebrate the spirit of making even more,” said Aligaen, who manages the gallery. “We wanted to create a platform for makers.”

To test the concept, the gallery opened with an inaugural exhibit titled “Bodies and Botanicals.” Aligaen mounted the show by tapping into the families and friends of the BODYFOOD team. She and Garcia are both artists married to artists, so their families contributed works. Niguidula’s relatives were also invited to participate, which led to her mother arranging an eye-catching wreath hung near the other artworks.

The highlight of the exhibit, however, was the work of six perfumers who graduated from the Makers’ Academy. Ponge was among them. His creation, “Whispers,” sought to capture the intermingling scents of death and rebirth that coexist in a forest. It was displayed alongside the works of his schoolmates: Shimon Valencia, April Frogoso, Daniela Calumba, Lia Bernardo, and broadcast journalist Ces Drilon.

Each perfumer had a distinct idea of what makes a good fragrance. Yet, under BODYFOOD’s instruction, their bottles shared common traits: each was created through character-building introspection, and each was gentle on the skin—a hallmark of the BODYFOOD brand.

“There is strength in gentleness,” Niguidula said. And the evidence stood before her that day.

That afternoon, in front of the artworks gathered by Aligaen, BODYFOOD’s shop was filled with people celebrating the brand’s milestones. Alongside Niguidula’s family and friends were longtime customers and curious newcomers.

For 23 years, she had been making products that were effective without causing adverse reactions. By hand, she crafted every item her business sold. Yet even after naming it BODYFOOD, she never launched an aggressive campaign to push it on anyone–like an essential. She simply made her work available to those willing to try something different. And the result of her efforts was on full display before her—people who appreciated her diligence, her knowledge, and her passion. Her eyes began to glisten.

To bless the gallery, she invited the perfumers present to use the smudge sticks Drilon had made. Before doing so, however, she fought back tears as she recalled the early days of her work.

“I knew that I wanted to be in healing,” she said. But she had not been certain she would succeed. She could have become a doctor. Instead, she chose a more unconventional path. Still, she took it and stayed with it for the same reason many have been using her products for years: it felt right.