In Tagalog, they are known as those in the “laylayan ng lipunan”. In English, they’re in the “fringes of society”, and may refer to those who are disadvantaged, overlooked, taken for granted, left to their own devices. Oftentimes, they live from day to day. One stroke of luck, one twist of fate, may mean the difference between them and their families getting their bellies full or starving for the day.
It’s hard to place a finger on what they are feeling nowadays, especially with their masks still on. But once you get to talk to them, they are unmasked—literally and figuratively—and their stories, like their faces, reveal an outlook that’s anything but rosy, but still red in utter defiance.
Toiling for every drop
Rey Amar, 32, is a tricycle driver who has no choice but to ply the streets of Las Pinas’ gated villages for at least 15 hours every day, seven days a week. Even then, his daily earnings are barely able to make ends meet.
He used to take home nearly P600, the P120 for the trike’s owner as “boundary” already deducted. But since gasoline prices began their meteoric rise, that take-home pay has become a distant memory. Nowadays, Rey thanks his lucky stars if he’s left with P300 in his pockets.
“Before the series of oil price increases, I used to spend only P150 a day on unleaded gasoline. Today, I spend at least twice that amount just on fuel alone,” Rey estimates.
Even if his trike operator has been considerate enough to not collect boundaries on Sundays, Rey still struggles to reconcile his earnings with his family’s expenses.
Every time Rey fills his trike up, he feels like every drop of fuel in the tank as his own “blood and sweat”, and the current gasoline prices (at P86 as of presstime) are sucking his body dry.
Trike drivers like Rey can’t help but lug a ton of worries not just for the moment, but also for tomorrow, and the day after, and the next. In Rey’s case, his family of four spends at least P500 a day just for food. Milk for his one-year-old daughter Amara costs P200 every six days, diapers for P200/month. There are also expenses to be paid to send his eldest daughter 8-year-old Bella to school. Rey’s wife Ericka Morata earns P800 a week doing odd jobs. When they can, Rey and Ericka extend financial assistance to their extended families.
Tightening belts has become routine. Trimming expenses here and there has become an essential skill set. Food is usually the first to be pruned. “Good-tasting rice costs P56/kilo, but we’ve settled for the kind that goes for P46/kilo. Fish is at P300 per kilo, so we don’t consume as much. Vegetables cost P20 for two small bundles. We set aside a small amount for seasoning and sautéing. We cook only once a day, good for lunch and dinner. Sometimes we just eat noodles for dinner,” Rey describes.
What exacerbates the problem of the rising prices of everything is the fact that the volume of passengers has markedly been reduced. Rey observes, “When the pandemic started, bicycles and e-trikes had become popular alternatives for some of my passengers, while others just started working from home. I can’t blame those who’ve resorted to such. That’s also how they cope with the hard times.”
Rey isn’t taking this problem sitting down (on his trike, that is). One thing going for him is his aptitude for carpentry. “I sideline as a carpenter. Subdivision residents hire me for house repairs, paint jobs, grass cutting, and the like. I’ll do any chore just to get by. Even my trike operator has a sideline as a delivery rider for either Foodpanda, Joyride or Angkas,” Rey chuckles.
Not quitting while he’s behind
By now, Judith Obedos Abaigar, 48, should have been reaping the benefits of a 22-year stint in driving passenger jeepneys. So, naturally, he has been contemplating on retiring. Sadly, however, his reasons for doing so are the complete opposite of the saying “Quit while you’re ahead”. Judith, his worsening arthritis making it increasingly difficult for him to do his job, may be disembarking from the driver’s seat for good because rising fuel prices have been adding unbearable financial agony to his physical pain.
“When diesel was still at P40 per liter, I earned a decent living to feed my family of five. Now, diesel is up to P89 per liter. I now earn only up to P500 driving from 3 p.m. to 11 p.m. With the horrendous traffic, that’s just two return trips. Those two trips would cost me P1,200 in fuel, and then I have to pay the P500 boundary,” Judith narrates.
His wife Flora, 38, earns P2,600 every 15 days working at the Las Pinas City Hall. Eldest child Jeffrey, 20, a Tesda graduate, is still looking for employment. Second son Jefferson, 18, is in Grade 12 but wants to quit school so he could get a job and help with the household finances. Youngest child Judy, 15, is in Grade 10.
“On a good day, we budget P100 for breakfast, P100 for lunch, and another P100 for dinner. We buy the P40/kilo rice, and half a kilo of galunggong, and that’s our lunch and dinner. When galunggong ran up to P180 per kilo, we switched to vegetables. One packet of pakbet costs P20, so we buy two packets. We also buy some onions, garlic and cooking oil to sauté. We spend P300 for lunch and dinner. Our LPG tank now costs P1,000, and that would last us around 45 days. For breakfast, it’s pancit canton, pandesal and coffee. Good thing my kids, especially my youngest, don’t like meat. They prefer vegetables. This saves us a lot. They understand our situation,” Judith shares.
“P500 a day is not enough for a family of five, but we also have to pay our monthly bills: P1,500 for the rent, P1,200 for electricity and P1,500 for internet access for the kids’ online classes,” he points out.
The prospect of his family starving and his kids not being able to complete their education drive Judith to work through the pain of arthritis and the high cost of living. He’s not quitting just yet. “I don’t have a side job for now because of the arthritis on my left knee, but I can still manage to step on the pedals and focus on driving, but not for more than eight hours. The reality is that we have to think of other ways to earn to survive. Maybe when I do have to quit driving, I can be a fish vendor or sell food products online,” Judith muses.
Joy of e-triking
Joy Gastardo Retes, 48, is a barangay coordinator in Las Pinas with a monthly pay of P3,000. She’s also a house assistant for two village residents, from whom she earns an additional P5,000. Overall, her total monthly income is P8,000.
Joy and husband Edwin Santos have to set aside at least P6,000 a month to cover the rent (P3,000) and utilities (P1,500 each for water and electricity). Then they also have to budget their food expenses.
One important expense taken out of this equation, or at least scaled down to the barest minimum, has been Joy’s daily commute six days of the week. If she had taken the conventional public utility vehicles between her residence in Bacoor and her work area in Las Pinas, she would have to shell out up to P70 a day, or P1,680/month.
Ever since Joy bought a used three-wheeled electric vehicle a month ago, that monthly expense has gone down to just P300—the amount added to her electric bill for charging her e-trike. She has effectively saved some P1,380 monthly using her e-trike to commute. The used e-trike cost just P12,000, which she pays in monthly installments of P1,000. Even when she’s still paying for her e-trike, she still saves P380/month on transport expenses.
Though Joy still can’t escape from the rising cost of other essential goods, at least she has managed to avoid being “fried” in crude oil just to be able to move around.
