Renalda “Magda” Veloso, 52, walks around with a cloth face mask. A domestic helper, she goes to her employer every day to attend to her chores. She goes to work early and leaves when the sun is already out.
One day last week, however, she had to leave work earlier than usual to line up in her barangay somewhere in Metro Manila to get some cash aid from the Department of Social Welfare and Development.
Magda, with a cigarette in her hand, was beaming with excitement. Finally, almost two months after the Luzon-wide lockdown took effect, she would get P8,000 in cold cash.
She had a valid government ID, and it was all she needed to get her money. But what happened in the barangay hall took her by surprise.
Magda fell in line at 4 p.m. There was so much chaos. There was no system. “Parang may Nazareno (it was like the Nazareno was there).”
Sure, it was manna from heaven, but she didn’t mean that. Magda was referring to the throngs of people who lined up to get the cash aid. At first, they asked the men in the crowd not to line up and to give way to the women instead. Six hours later, they changed their mind. The men came back, making the whole process even more chaotic, Magda said.
Likening the crowd to the yearly Jan. 9 Traslacion was an exaggeration, but the point isn’t lost. Magda insists, the crowd was too much. She calls it a stampede. “Libo-libo (thousands).”
There was no social distancing, it was a night of mayhem and the whole environment was suffocating.
But this isn’t the worst part. Magda got her money at 4 a.m., exactly 12 hours later.
She went home to her one-room shack in a nearby slum area dead tired. She didn’t even bother washing herself. She was beat and sleep-deprived and all she could do was to slump in bed.
For P8,000 or even more, Magda doesn’t think she will go endure that experience again. But she concedes she might change her mind. She’ll always need money after all.
Magda lives with her common law husband Joseph, a painter, and a stray cat. Since the quarantine, Joseph, a daily wage earner, has not been able to work. But Magda is lucky to still be working.
Twice, barangay officials came to bring them relief goods.
The first time happened in the third week of March — six kilos of rice, a pack of macaroni, eight cans of sardines, a dozen of coffee sachets and a pack of cupcakes.
The second time came in the third week of April — eight kilos of rice, six cans of meatloaf and seven cans of sardines.
Magda is thankful to the government but the relief goods, she said, were simply not enough even for her small family of three, including the cat.
“Umaga, tanghali, gabi, kumakain kami...kulang talaga; mabuti nalang may sweldo pa naman ako (It’s really not enough if we’re going to eat three meals a day; thankfully, I still receive my salary),” she said.
The rice also was so bad, they couldn’t eat it as it is. She calls it “NFA rice.”
“Sobrang maalsa. Kailangan talaga lagyan ng maraming ulam kasi matigas at maalsa (It has to go with big servings of viand because it’s not chewy and dry),” Magda said.
Magda’s neighbors in the slum community — at least a hundred families — all received the same thing.
Social amelioration program
Magda’s story isn’t an isolated case. It’s no secret that the relief goods distributed by the government aren’t really enough or healthy at least. For the cost of less than P1,000 per bag, one can buy so much more.
And do we really have to give sardines every time? Sure, I love sardines. With tomato sauce and onions, it can sometimes be the best breakfast. But to give this kind of food to those in need isn’t right. It’s already what most of them eat on good days. We could provide them so much more for the same cost.
In other countries, the relief goods came with masks, hygiene products and vitamins. The government and our local governments can do so much more. This is after all an extraordinary time.
Government’s responsibility
The private sector has been stepping up. Even educational institutions are helping.
I learned that the De La Salle community has partnered with three hospitals to host their respective frontliners under the Project Safe Shelter. They have likewise opened their facilities to welcome the homeless.
But it is really the responsibility of the government to help the people.
The government must simply do more. People like Magda will always be thankful for whatever help they get. They live a hand-to-mouth existence. Give them 14 cans of sardines and they will feel so blessed, but in reality, they are not.
Help isn’t just providing cans of sardines or corned beef, or making them fall in line for 12 hours for P8,000. Help is so much more than that. It is about according them enough respect and dignity in their everyday lives. But most especially in their hours of desperation.
Iris Gonzales’ email address is eyesgonzales@gmail.com. Follow her on Twitter @eyesgonzales. Column archives at eyesgonzales.com