Some VIP treatment

“OFWs are given VIP treatment. No OFW is sleeping under the bridge. All OFWs are staying in hotels. The government pays for their lodging so they are treated as VIPs. Their trip going home is also free.’’

This was presidential spokesperson Harry Roque’s statement in his press briefing on June 11 in response to questions about what the government was doing about the plight of hundreds of passengers stranded for days at the airport.

The assertion was breathtaking because it was so contrary to what was happening on the ground. On that very day and the day after, major media networks would feature heartbreaking stories and photos of stranded passengers, among them scores of OFWs, who had been forced to camp out and sleep under the elevated expressway of the Ninoy Aquino International Airport (Naia) and on roads leading to the airport for days, exposed to the elements, the heavy rains that drenched the metropolis last week, and the continuing threat of the COVID-19 pandemic.

GMA News reported on June 10: “200 passengers stranded at Naia sleep under trees, expressway.” Mae Anne, who was in Manila to apply for a job abroad, recounted her story: “We just sleep here and there, and then it rained and we didn’t have any shelter. We have tickets but they just canceled the flights and we didn’t know.” She had been waiting for three days at Terminal 3 for a flight back to Davao City.

Also on June 10, ABS-CBN News tweeted photos showing groups of passengers slumped on mats and pieces of cardboard laid out on bare soil, next to their luggage. The report quoted Adrian Martinez, point person for locally stranded individuals (LSIs) for the Pasay City government, as saying that the stranded groups included families, students, and OFWs bound for Mindanao.

On the same day, Inquirer.net posted photos of Mary Ann Cayog from Davao Oriental tearfully talking to her mother over the phone. She had all the necessary documents: a barangay certificate, a medical clearance, a travel pass, and a ticket for June 7—but still was unable to fly.

In a June 11 report, another stranded passenger told CNN Philippines: “Para na kaming nanlilimos dito. Gusto lang naming makauwi sa aming mga pamilya.”

And so on. Reiza Daquitan, an OFW who was supposed to fly to Macau last March, told Radyo Inquirer that they had asked officials to provide a comfortable place at least for pregnant women, but to no avail. “Instead, we’re living like pigs, like garbage here,’’ she lamented. Al Jazeera reported on one stranded passenger, Dennis Sebastian, holding a collection of his canceled tickets: “He is so broke that he has sold his personal belongings… his cellphone… his luggage… even his last pair of shoes,’’ just to survive under the expressway.

The avoidable cause of the airport chaos was the confusion brought about by the lack of coordination between the national government — which allowed flights to resume at Naia on June 1 — and the local government units, which were given the authority to impose their own quarantine rules. As airlines prepared to resume their flights when Metro Manila shifted to GCQ, these were halted abruptly when some provinces and local airports refused to accept returning passengers.

The apex of this fiasco of official incompetence and abandonment was the tragic fate of Michelle Silvertino, the 33-year-old mother of four young children who died on a footbridge along Edsa in Pasay City where she stayed for five days while waiting for a bus ride to her hometown in Camarines Sur.

Her last days were of unbelievable neglect: She would have been saved had the police did the proper job of bringing her to a facility or the hospital. According to Police Lt. Col. Deanry Francisco, quoted in an Inquirer report: “They said they were bringing her for treatment to the barangay hall but there was no one there so they took her to the police precinct to let her rest. But upon validation, they saw she had COVID-19 symptoms so their commander told them to bring her back to the barangay hall. But [Silvertino] insisted that she was OK so they returned her to the footbridge.’’ She was found unconscious the day after, and declared dead on arrival at the hospital.

How could the police, knowing Silvertino had COVID-19 symptoms, bring her back to a highly public area and leave her there? What happened to well-known health protocols, at the very least? As street cleaner Jhimbo Mojica, one of those who had encountered Silvertino on the footbridge, put it tersely: “She was not rescued. She was just left behind.’’

The government scampered to attend to the situation only after Silvertino’s shocking death and the public outcry over the desperate multitude huddled under the expressway. Whether they’re OFWs or LSIs, if this is what constitutes “VIP treatment” for them, one shudders to think what the ordinary, no-frills government service would entail for other Filipinos.