This is a story of three young women from different stations in life who share the same deep commitment to the urban poor.
I have advocated housing rights for the poor since I graduated from St. Scholastica’s College and went to work with Urban Poor Associates, an NGO that works for the rights of poor people. I was assigned to do media work. I wrote press releases about protests and demolitions that happened almost every day. I also wrote and produced the Saturday radio program of UPA, “Caritas at Maralita,” on Radio Veritas. The program is the longest-running show on Veritas and gives urban poor people a chance to air their concerns. As I worked on the program I learned to understand the problems of the poor.
My tasks are usually simple. But one time I received a call from a group of informal settlers living in West Rembo, Makati, saying they needed our help immediately because a demolition team was on its way to evict them. I felt the urgency of the call. Unfortunately, our Quick Reaction Team was attending to other demolitions. There was no one in the office but me. I didn’t have firsthand experience in dealing with demolitions, but I felt a rush to be a hero. I wanted to go and negotiate a solution, like experts do.
I went to West Rembo and met the leaders of the group. I thought I would be meeting young leaders, but they were all senior citizens. I was worried about how they would fare in case there would be shoving and pushing. All we could do was stick together, line up in front of the houses and talk peacefully with the representative of the office of the Makati City engineer.
I almost fainted when I saw the huge demolition team. There were 30 policemen, 50 demolition crew members and several fire fighters ready to train their water cannons on anyone who resisted the demolition.
Nevertheless I told myself we could stop the demolition. At that moment, I was still thinking of being the people’s hero.
The senior citizens and I went to talk to the demolition team. I thought they would hear us out. Instead their representative pushed me hard and asked if I was one of the informal settlers living there.
I fell down and watched as old men became real warriors fighting the demolition team. They were now my heroes.
Some of the women led me to one of the houses. The men continued to fight. Children were crying. Mothers were begging. But they were no match to the demolition team which tore down the houses of 100 families who had been living there for 25 years.
I couldn’t go home because I had bruises and cuts all over my body, maybe from the nails or GI sheets. My body hurt, but witnessing the violence seemed just as painful. Up to this moment, I can still remember the child who asked her mom where the roof of their house was.
I related what happened to my boss, Ted Añana. And he told me: “Don’t worry, Princess, you’ll get used to it. Be inspired by what you experienced and continue your work with the poor.” (Sir Ted served the poor his entire life, but he is gone now.)
I am happy to see young people in our office. Last May, we started our annual community organizing (CO) training for new graduates from different colleges. We have Bea and Jessa, and I can see in them the enthusiasm I had when I was beginning.
Bea is tall and very pretty. She graduated from Ateneo de Manila University. She finished two courses, development studies and social sciences. She was also the captain of Ateneo’s volleyball team. Everybody adores her because we know that while she has many opportunities, she chose to become a community organizer. She was assigned to families living in North Harbor. She has been training for five months.
The people of North Harbor where she works were complaining about the piles of garbage in their community that had grown into small mountains. According to the residents, garbage collectors would not enter their area to get the garbage. They thought that the city government and the Philippine Ports Authority were doing this so that the place would stink so much that the people would voluntarily leave.
Bea and the residents’ leaders sent letters to PPA and the city government. The letter contained their concerns about the garbage. They also pledged that once the garbage was collected, they would maintain cleanliness in the area. The group also raised these issues on our radio program.
After days of protest and talking to different government agencies, the tons of garbage were successfully collected. A group of poor women had succeeded in getting the government to act. The women realized that in unity there is strength.
Bea was happy. It wasn’t a little thing for the residents since the garbage caused them a lot of trouble. Now, they can sleep soundly without the buzz of flies and mosquitoes.
Bea is holding the people to their commitment to maintain cleanliness. They now chip in to pay a garbage collector from their community who brings the garbage outside North Harbor to be picked up by the trucks.
What Bea and the women did might seem like a small thing. But it was important for the women and a beautiful example of bayanihan at work.
Jessa, is the exact opposite of Bea. She is small and shy. She grew up in a relocation site in Montalban and graduated from a state university. In school she did not engage in competitive sports, but now she is the captain of the residents of Ulingan, Tondo. She has a lovely smile but a big fighting heart.
Ulingan is one of the poorest communities in Metro Manila. It was once a garbage dump. The main livelihood of the residents is traditional charcoal making. Every day Jessa goes to Ulingan and smells that smoke that is like a tear gas. If only for this reason, others would have quit. In Ulingan, no task is small or simple and every issue is big and hard to solve. But Jessa bravely stays.
Jessa told me that she intends to prod the government to build a road inside Ulingan. The place is always muddy. She is dreaming of that road, and her resolve to get it grows every time she sees little kids in their school uniforms walking in the mud.
When rumors spread that the Ulingan residents would be evicted, Jessa was crushed. I could see her frustration. She asked why government officials were acting as if they didn’t care about the poor. And this has made her even more determined to work with the people.
I don’t know if Jessa will succeed in bringing a road to Ulingan. But she is still there, working to make a difference for its residents.
Princess L. Asuncion, 25, works as a media advocacy officer at Urban Poor Associates, an NGO that works for housing rights of the poor.