How much more will it take?

I need to half-digress from mainstream politics and the elections—only half, because my greatest concern is the dire learning poverty of our public-school students, which is not entirely apolitical. When Filipino students at ages 10 and 15 perform disastrously compared to their global peers, we catch a glimpse of the quality of our young workforce today and in the next 30 years.

The numbers are damning. In the 2022 World Bank Learning Poverty Brief, 91% of our 10-year-olds were classified as learning-poor. Meanwhile, in the Programme for International Student Assessment (PISA), our 15-year-olds ranked second to last among ASEAN nations. These stark realities expose the deep crisis in Philippine education. Instead of the usual rhetoric about education being the path out of poverty, it has only widened the chasm between the rich and the poor. The underperforming majority comes from low-income backgrounds, while the small minority of high achievers comes from the wealthy.

With education failing as a viable escape from poverty, we must brace ourselves for prolonged economic hardship. I see no alternative. For centuries, since Spanish colonization, both the Church and the State have relied on ayuda as their primary response to poverty—whether through almsgiving or scholarships for a select few poor children.

Over time, ayuda has evolved into a full-fledged government program, backed by well-funded initiatives. It is estimated that cash transfers and subsidies for the poor amount to around 600 billion pesos, including the controversial AKAP program. The government has combined anti-poverty projects with traditional almsgiving under politically branded programs—essentially signaling that it “cares.”

Yet poverty persists, particularly food poverty, which affects up to 70% of the population. This proves that formalized almsgiving, in the form of cash assistance and subsidies, remains grossly inadequate as an anti-poverty strategy. These programs may be charitable at best, but they lack the power to foster development and self-reliance. In fact, the common criticism is that subsidies have only deepened dependency. Worse, they have not just made people more reliant on aid, but more reliant on the politicians who control access to these ayuda programs.

As we quietly do our part—despite believing that the primary responsibility lies with the government—we must first understand the most marginalized in our society. They are everywhere, but they remain concentrated in rural areas, on small farms and in impoverished fishing villages. These are the communities that have long been neglected. Decades ago, both government and big business rushed toward development in commerce and industry, leaving these rural populations behind. Seventy years later, they are still struggling to catch up.

We will also find that learning poverty is most severe in these same neglected agricultural areas, which continue to serve as a pipeline for future urban squatters. This rural-to-urban poverty cycle has fueled much of the rapid urbanization we see today. Yet, despite this clear pattern, we have failed to learn from it. The rural poor remain overlooked, and in turn, the ranks of the urban poor continue to swell.

Exacerbating both learning poverty and economic poverty is corruption. It is impossible to reverse these crises in isolation because corruption serves as the underlying catalyst for both. No matter how we attempt to address education or economic development, we cannot escape the fact that corruption lies at their very core.

For concerned Filipinos like myself, it is easy to list an overwhelming number of urgent issues. But what we need most are solutions. That brings our focus to three critical areas: education, economic productivity, and corruption—the force that festers within both. We may hesitate to openly discuss corruption, especially when we recognize that the billionaire elite and corporate conglomerates, alongside the government, are complicit—whether by greed, cooperation, or silent acceptance.

Yet, despite all this, not all hope is lost. In fact, today may offer the most promising opportunities for change. Throughout history, great thinkers have viewed the worst of times as the beginning of the best. The most profound transformations occur when they are needed most—when suffering and frustration reach a breaking point.

When good men and women feel most powerless, they are often on the brink of discovering their greatest strength. Time and again, history reminds us that ordinary people accomplish extraordinary feats, especially when survival is at stake. We recall countless stories of individuals who have displayed superhuman strength in moments of crisis—when they, or those they love, face life-or-death situations.

Most of us don’t see ourselves as being in a life-or-death situation—certainly not in the literal sense. As individuals, we may feel angry, frustrated, or exhausted from hard but unrewarding work. Many struggle with uncertainty over their next meal or the fear of falling ill without the means for medicine or medical care. But few would say they are at the edge of survival.

On a collective level, however, I believe we are approaching that point. We are becoming powerless against the moral and ethical decay eating away at the nobility of our culture and the values our ancestors painstakingly passed down through their sacrifices. Life is not just about our pockets, nor even just about our stomachs. As human beings, we yearn for something deeper—the spirit that sets us apart from all other life forms. Perhaps it is more than uniqueness; perhaps it is something divine.

Our spirit, our soul, our dignity, our nobility—these are integral to who we are. Without them, we would feel empty, even lifeless. But how do we sustain them when our values and actions have become barren? At what point does this struggle become a matter of life and death? When do we summon the superhuman strength that history tells us we possess?

When that moment comes, may the best in us rise from the shadows. Tayo, hindi si Batman, ang bahala.