A Student’s Gamble

I wrote this article for Atenews. This photo is a screen grab from Latagawa short film made by my classmates. This film and this article tells the story of a tuition fee girl.

“Mga gwapa na sila. Di gyud nimo mailhan nga ga ingun-ana diay sila (They’re all so beautiful that it’s hard to tell that they actually do that).

This is just one of the many lines that imply that the business that goes behind closed doors and twisted sheets is no kept secret, and so is the business that goes behind paying for a University’s steep tuition fee. Students who engage in this kind of business are called TF (tuition fee) girls or TF boys. They say that this form of “business” has been going on for years. What do these girls and boys get in return? A college degree. For some students, flesh is the price of quality education.

A Tuition Fee Girl’s Confession

Although it’s not uncommon knowledge among Ateneans, the topic is still talked about with hushed voices. AdDU Confessions which is an online confession site for Ateneans became a platform for the TF students’ voices to be heard.

AdDU Confessions burst into popularity in 2013 after featuring inspiring, entertaining, and intimate stories from anonymous confessors. The confessors send in their stories through a google document form. One of the confessors was a girl who claims to have been a TF girl when she was studying in Ateneo de Davao University. She says that she was able to graduate from this “agreement,” and also told the readers that being in her shoes at the time was very difficult.

The confessor narrated how she met the person who supported her tuition fee, in exchange of something else. Below is an excerpt from her said confession:

Isa ko mga taga province na nag skwela sa addu. Dili mi datu, katong nag desisyon akong parents na sa addu ko muskwela ang akong una na napangutana sa ila kay ‘kaya kaha nato ang gasto didto? mahal kaayo ang tuition, boarding house pa, libro, baon’ ug ang tubag sa akong parents kay ‘kaya lagi nato na bsta maka graduate ka ug gwapo na skwelahan’.

(I was one of the students in AdDU who comes from the province. My family is not rich, so when my parents decided that I would study in AdDU, the first thing I asked them was, “Are we going to make it?” We wouldn’t pay for the tuition only, but also the boarding house, books, allowance, and others. But my parents just said, “We will make it. The important thing is you can graduate from a good school.”)

Sa among section dghan jud kaayo ug datu, naa koy mga classmate na halos adlaw adlaw naga change ug bag, naa koy classmate na halos taga bulan naga change ug phone. And naa koy na classmate na datu jud sya, gwapo, tangkad, humot kaayo, medyo bugoy ug ang naa sa utok puros ra kabuang. Seatmate mi.

(I had a lot of classmates who were rich. Some of them changed their bags every day, and another one changed phones every month. I also had a classmate who was really rich. He was tall and handsome, and he smelled really good. He was also kind of a bad boy. In my mind, I thought he didn’t know anything serious. We were seatmates.)

 Ako kay maulaw man ko sa iyaha kay syempre datu ug unsa ra man ko. Sige ko niya ginasturya ug ako dili kaayo ko mutingog sa iya kay hunahuna nako dili man ko angay makig sturya ani sa iyaha. Sige syag ka late unya pag attendance dili sya maka attendance, kadugayan niana sya mangayo syag number sa ako para itext lang dw ko niya kung magpa attendance sya so ako gisulat nako akong number sa papel unya gihatag sa iya ug niana sya na isave nalang pud dw nako iyang number incase dw ganahan ko mutext sa iya.
(I was too shy with him. He was too rich, and I’m just like this. He kept on chatting with me, and I wouldn’t answer too much because I didn’t think it was proper for me. He was always late for class. Eventually, he asked for my number so that whenever he comes in late, he could text me to write his attendance for him instead. I wrote my number on a piece of paper and gave it to him. Later, he asked for my phone so he could save his number there, just in case I’d want to text him.)


Nahuman ang 1st ug 2nd year nako na malinawon. Ug classmate gihapon mi sa akong classmate na datu ug kani na time medyo close nami. Ug kani na panahon naa syay uyab na classmate namo. Ako wla koy gusto sa iya kay bugoy kaayo.
Niabot jud ang time na na delay ug padala akong parents sa prelim exam so nakulbaan ko ug niana akong papa na magpadala lang dw pagka next week pero wla jud gihapon. Sa akong pagka stress nag open ko sa akong classmate na wla nagpadala ug pang exam akong parents ug allowance, niana man kaha na sya pila man imong kailangan?

(I finished my first two years in college with no difficulty, and I was still classmates with the guy. We were closer then. He also had a girlfriend in our class. I never liked him then because he was too much of a bad boy. And then one time, my parents weren’t able to send money in time for my prelim exam. I was so worried. I opened up about this to my classmate. What he said shocked me. He asked, “How much do you need?”

Ako kay gusto lagi maka exam ug wla najud koy kwarta so niana ko sa iya pang exam lang ug allowance nako bayaran ra nako kung magpadala akong parents. Niana mana sya lahi dw ang bayad. Ana sya ihatag dw niya unya 6pm kay mag withdraw sa dw sya ug agian ko niya. Naa nakoy hinala kung unsa man jud iyang gusto. Naghulat ko ug 6pm sa roxas gate ug nisakay ko sa iyang sakyanan.

(I really wanted to take my exam, but I had no money. I told him that I needed enough to take my exam and for my allowance, and that I’ll pay him as soon as my parents sent me money. But he told me that he was going to take a different kind of payment. He told me that he’d give me the money by 6pm after withdrawing money from the bank. I already had a clue of what he wanted. I waited at the Roxas gate and got in his car when he arrived.)

Niana sya sa ako ‘kagets naman ka noh kung unsa akong gusto’ so ako murag kapit na sa patalim. Sa akong pagka desperada niuban jud ko sa iyaha.

(“You already understand what I want, right?” He asked me. Because of sheer desperation, I agreed to go with him.)

Although the terms TF girl or TF boy generates reactions of disappointment, or sometimes pity, the confession which was put up on Facebook generated feedback of compassion. These reactions show that Ateneans are more accepting and understanding of the predicament of these students, rather than shaming.

But the twist in the confessor’s story was that it had a happy ending. She says she is now happily married to the person and advised the students who are experiencing the same difficulty in school to trust God instead.

“Para sa mga naga struggle sa ilang pang tuition diha, dili ko mag advise na sundugon ninyo akong nabuhat pero si God maghimo jud ug way para ana. And sa mga hopeless romantic, time will come muabot lang si mr/ms right ninyo. dli lang mag dali. Apili jud ug pag-ampo ang tanan.”

The Gamble

The struggle for a good and sustainable future is no surprise among Filipinos, especially when the price of living is very high. Subsequently, the cost of education is also higher.

Based on 2008 data from the Commission on Higher Education (CHEd), out of 100 Grade One pupils, only 66 finish Grade Six. Only 58 of the 66 go on to enroll in first-year high school and only 43 finish high school. Of the 43 who finished high school, only 23 enroll in college and only 14 of the 23 graduate from college.

Tuition and other school fees in the Philippines also increase annually. In 2009, data from CHED says that the national average tuition rate has increased by as much as 89.93 percent, from P230.79 ($4.526 at the average 2001 exchange rate of $1=P50.99) in school year 2001-2002 to P437.10 ($9.829 at the 2008 average exchange rate of $1=P44.47) last school year. The Metro Manila average rate, on the other hand, went up by 94.54 percent, from P439.59 ($8.62) to P855.20 ($19.23) in the same period.

For the school year 2015-2016, CHED approved the TOFI (Tuition and Other Fees Increase) for 313 private colleges and universities.

Simultaneously, the unemployment rate of college graduates is also high. From the data gathered by the PSA (Philippine Statistics Authority), it was found that the unemployment rate in July 2015 was estimated at 93.5 percent, where 22.2 percent of the unemployed were college graduates.

With a dream in mind, Filipinos fight their daily struggles to pursue that dream, even if it means paying a high price for it. The fight begins with education.

Taxi driver James (not his real name) says that he had a “suki” passenger before. He said that the girl was a student from Ateneo de Davao University. “She was beautiful,” described James. James said that a mutual agreement formed between him and the girl. He would pick her up from school after class and drop her by her dorm where she would hurriedly dress herself up.

“I would wait for her to finish changing her attire and then I would drop her at a hotel. I would still pick her up afterwards and drop her by her dorm so she can change back to her uniform again and then go back to school,” narrated James.

But TF girls are everywhere, said James. “Kami sa mga drayber, gina storyahan man namo na kay musakay man gyud ug taxi nang mga bayhana. Lahi-lahing skwelahan, naa gyud, (We talk about it [TF girls] amongst us taxi drivers because these girls would always ride a taxi. They’re not just in AdDU, but in other schools as well),said James.

While for some, selling the flesh means an investment for the future, this trade is also for basic survival, and a mother’s sacrifice. Atenews was able to interview a sexual worker in Davao City. Requesting for anonymity, “GM” described what life was like in the trade of flesh.

GM had a dream. “Gusto unta nako maging sales lady karun pero mas gusto jud nako makahuman ug skwela kay pangarap man nako na mahimong abogado (I wanted to be a sales lady, but what I really want is for me to finish school because I dream of becoming a lawyer)”, said GM.

GM acknowledges poverty as the main reason that pushed her into this line of work. GM comes home every morning after her duty to 6 mouths that were waiting to be fed. Her duty as a sexual worker comprised of standing by the street at night, outside a bank, waiting for a customer to come.

“All I want is for my children to graduate from a good school,” said GM.

“I’m doing this because I don’t want them to end up like me,” she added.

National Situation on Sexual Trafficking

Philippines is one of the countries in Asia that have the worst situation in terms of sexual trafficking. In the recent years, not more than 800,000 women were reported to have been victims of sexual trafficking, of which 50% were reported to have been minors. 500,000 were reported to have entered prostitution, according to the Philippines Sex Workers Collective.

According to Julius Bungcaras, head of the International Justice Mission (IJM) Cebu’s Community Mobilization for Churches and Students, 10-15 percent of every 1,000 students (10 out of 100) resort to prostitution (Ursal, 2011). As prices grow day by day, a number of people who engage in such employment also increase.
A member of the “Women Hookers Organizing for their Rights and Empowerment” (WHORE) said that Baguio City has the worst case of prostitution, which they recorded to have around 3,000 sexual workers. Baguio City is one of the country’s top tourist destinations.

According to another group, Lawig Bubai, which aims to provide education and livelihood for prostituted women, said that there are around 900 women who are working as Guests Relations Officers (GROs) in bars.

Some of these women came to Davao in search of a job, but wound up in the sex trade instead, according to Lawig Bubai Spokesperson Lory Paburag.

“Poverty, lack of education, and unemployment are the main reasons why individuals engage in prostitution,” said Jeanette Ampog from Talikala, which is a non-governmental organization run by women who offer support, advice and counseling to women who have been forced into the sex trade in Davao.

“These women are forced in the trade just so they can meet their daily needs,” Ampog added.

Ampog added that sufficient support and alternative livelihood should be provided for the “survivors” of prostitution, and that these should fit their skills and capacity, in order for them to provide the needs of their families.

Ampog also said that many of these women initially did not know what they were getting in to, but instead were lured into the trade.

Maria, not her real name, is a survivor of the trade. She claims that she was deceived into the job by a roommate who was a sex worker herself. “I asked her where she works and earns money from because I was very hard up at the time. She told me that she works at a massage parlor and that she would help me get a job there because they were hiring,” Maria narrated.

“When I got there, I was given a bottle of alcohol, a basin filled with warm water, and a towel. When I entered the room of the first customer, I saw that he was naked. I screamed and ran to leave the place,” said Maria.

Dili man nako gusto. Pero kinahanglan man gyud nako ug kwarta. Hantod sa nasanay nalang ko, ug nahimo kong prostitute sa usa ka tuig ra pud, kay gusto jud nako maluwas. (I didn’t want to (work like that), but I really needed the money. Over time, I got used to it, and I worked as a prostitute for about a year only, because I really wanted to leave that job).

For the self-claimed tuition fee girl who confessed in AdDU confessions, they cannot be blamed for entering in that kind of job because of the need for money. “My goal was to graduate, so I just told myself that this is for my future. I held on to the last resort that I had. You really can’t blame me for entering into that kind of job,” she said.

Ateneans’ Stance on the Issue

The issue of tuition fee girls and boys is no kept secret among Ateneans, but many try to be understanding and compassionate.

For 4th Year Mass Communication Student Jerrick Luy, there is no need for judgment, but instead, understanding, of the individuals who have this kind of job. “I think we should understand them because it’s just work and they are doing it so they can continue studying. We shouldn’t judge them because they’re only doing what they can to support themselves,” said Luy. “Who knows, really, they might not be receiving any support at all from their family,” Luy added.

When asked about what he thinks the school should do, Luy said that the school can’t do much to eradicate the trade because for him, it’s a personal decision made by the individuals. “What the school can do is respect them, welcome them, and not criticize them. Even if they are called TF girls, that’s for their future,” said Luy.

The SAMAHAN Central Board is always ready to provide assitance, said SAMAHAN External Vice President and CCO (Campus Clubs Organization) chairperson Kahlil Alcomendras. “Don’t be afraid to ask for help because something can be done, if you go through proper channels. Don’t be afraid to ask SAMAHAN to help you, the admin of the university, or even your friends,” said Alcomendras.

Approach the people whom you think will be able to help you, and you have to trust that they can. You need to be brave enough to ask for help when you need it,” she added.

Evacuation echoes yearning for protected land for tribal Manobos

Published at DavaoToday

DAVAO CITY – They slept by day. At night, they left. Following the trail of the river, they walked, crawled, and stumbled. Datu Tungig Mansumuy-at didn’t use flashlights so that they won’t be seen. They first carried their children then went back for the ill.

On the 29th day of April, the entire village of Talaingod evacuated here again due to heightened military activities and alleged abuses against civilians in their area.

It was getting dark at UCCP (United Church of Christ of the Philippines) when Manobo tribal Datu Tungig Mansumuy-at, wearing a blue shirt and purple drawstring pants, led his son by hand to a nearby bench, where there was light.

Mansumuy-at is one of the leaders of Salugpungan Ta Tanu Igkanugon, a group that Manobos in Talaingod formed to defend their land from investors.

Upon taking his seat, he narrated what happened back then.

In 1993, C. Alcantara and Sons Inc. (CASI, formerly Alsons) was awarded an Industrial Forest Management Agreement (IFMA) with the Department of Environment and Natural Resources (DENR). The agreement granted 20,000 hectares of land CASI to develop into an industrial tree plantation.

In 1994, armed with bows and arrows, bolos, and spears, the tribal baganis, their warriors, led by Chieftain Datu Guibang Apoga waged a bush war for their land. They used booby traps called batik wherein a sharpened bamboo is tied with a rope in such a way that when someone trips over the rope, the bamboo hits him with a fatal blow.

It was a while before the government military was able to understand their battle tactics, Datu Mansumuy-at said, because their weapons do not bang like guns do. Then they decided to evacuate to the city.

The Manobos are traditionally nomadic in culture. For food, they constantly search for land to till. They look for another place to live in if a family member dies in their house. In believing that god as creator makes him the rightful owner of land, they do not claim absolute ownership of it. Benefiting from properties not theirs is a practice called usufruct. In return, they take care of it.

But now the nomadic culture can no longer be practiced, for they no longer have land to go to. And in grievous circumstances, they staged a pangayaw, a tribal war.

Salugpungan Ta Tanu Igkanugon is a Manobo term for “the land we will not give to the foreign capitalists.”

In 1997, the government passed the Indigenous Peoples Rights Act (IPRA) whose aim was to recognize, protect, and promote the rights of the Indigenous Peoples. However, there are sections that seem to contradict its goal.

Section 55 states that communal rights over ancestral domains should not be confused with coownership as in the R.A 386 (New Civil Code).

Also, section 56 provides that property rights in ancestral domains existing upon effectivity of said act shall be recognized and respected.

It was in 1993 that IFMA was formed. Two years after, the DAO 96-40 (Philippine Mining Act of 1995) was passed, which tribal communities in many mountain communities in Mindanao have voiced out their disagreement.

The Manobos of Talaingod like Datu Tungig wonder what law they can use to uphold their rights.

Now 20 years later, the Matigtalomo-Manobo have evacuated again in the ensuing fight between the NPA and the military. They had to leave, Datu Mansumuy-at said, to speak of their plight and to be helped.

Fearing for their safety, they decided to evacuate to the city again.

In the eyes of a Manobo, Datu Mansumuy-at wondered why people have no homes to sleep in when the land was so wide. “Why do people eat garbage when in the city, food is so abundant? Why is fish and wood being sold? Why do the land and the seas have to be divided? Why is no one helping those sleeping outside and eating garbage?”

The people from support groups helping them were how all leaders should be, said Datu, for they all ate the same food. If the evacuees only had gabi/taro, the support group members ate that as well. A hungry people’s leader should be hungry too, he said, then added, when they think, they don’t think for themselves only, but for everyone.

“I am called Datu by my people, but I am not different from them. If they’re hungry, I’m hungry too. If they worry, I worry more.” (davaotoday.com)

Hijos de Davao: Beyond ballroom walls

Published at The Philippine Daily Inquirer

Old and New Hijos de Davao Officers
Old and New Hijos de Davao Officers

In a place dubbed a melting pot of culture, a group of settlers embraced change but sought to preserve their own.

“In order for us to hold on to our identity, we should preserve our culture,” said Hijos de Davao president Jackie Garcia Dizon.

For Marissa Tionko, her group has grown alongside Davao City in the past 50 years. “Hijos de Davao is more than just a social club. It is an organization working in a movement for social change,” she said.

Davao City is hailed as the most populous city in Mindanao and the largest in the country. Its land area of 2,444 square kilometers is home to over 1.4 million residents.

But only seven percent of the population, or 89,000, are Davaoeños or descendants of the original settlers. At least 33 percent or 381,000 of the people in Davao are Cebuanos.

The ever-increasing diversity of peoples and decreasing number of Davaoeños are the main reasons Hijos de Davao was brought into existence. It was founded in 1964 as a sociocivic organization to nurture relationships among Davaoeños. It primarily aims to gather the remaining Davaoeños residing in the city to celebrate the feast of St. Peter every 29th day of June.

“The objectives of Hijos de Davao are to preserve culture and traditions and nurture relationships among them,” Dizon said.

Their existence was seen as “a symbol of unity” in a city overpopulated by migrants. For the Hijos, the old Davao was “whole and undivided.” Thus in the present-day Davao, “Hijos is a semblance of identity in this scattered society,” Tionko said.

It was during the American rule in the late 19th century that more settlers came to Davao, according to the book “Reconstructing History from Text and Memory” by Macario Tiu.

Many migrants were lured by the prosperity offered by Davao’s wide and fertile lands. Its wide abaca and coconut plantations enticed many to come and settle in the city.

World War II veteran Casimero Flores, a 98-year-old migrant from Aklan, came to Davao in 1945 after hearing stories about Mindanao’s fertile land and abundant food that enticed many, like him, to migrate.

“Aklan back then was a difficult place to live in because food was scarce. When the drought came, we had nothing. They (locals) said that in Mindanao, there was plenty of food, especially bananas. My parents, brothers and sisters, we were all starving, so I grabbed the chance to go to Davao,” he said.

Flores acquired a 10-hectare lot in Cotabato, four hectares in Sto. Tomas, Davao del Norte, and 10 hectares in Davao City. He is now left with 9.1 hectares of land in Davao as he gave the others away to his relatives.

“I wanted them to start a good life. For that, they needed land to till,” he said.

Most of his family, even cousins and aunts, came to reside in Mindanao.

The diversity of race and cultures is among the things that set Davao apart from others. But over time, the mix of cultures made it hard for Davaoeños to distinguish their own.

This sentiment was mirrored by the third generation descendants of Davao’s first Christian settlers of 1848. Among them were Arzenio Suazo and his brother Amadeo, Isidro Bastida, Pantaleon Pelayo Sr. and Ruperto Lizada, who were the forerunners of the Hijos de Mindanao in the late 1920s.

Many other similar organizations sprouted after Hijos de Mindanao, such as the Hijos de Mindanao y Sulu, Tayo-Tayo, and Club Dabawenyo. Their unifying characteristic was that they all gathered and celebrated the feast of Davao’s patron saint, St. Peter.

The clubs were also the foundations that set Hijos de Davao into existence in 1964, founded by Emilio Palma Gil, its first president.

Among its projects, as cited in the book “Davao: Its History and Progress” by Gloria Dabay, were the Osmeña Park, the Generoso Bridge in Bankerohan, the Bagobo statue at the Davao International Airport, and the Hijos de Davao Cultural and Educational Foundation Inc., a nonstock, nonprofit group which seeks to launch programs “dedicated to the promotion, enhancement, preservation, and projection of the cultural heritage of Davao and the educational and social improvement of Dabawenyos.”

Read more: http://newsinfo.inquirer.net/694946/hijos-de-davao-beyond-ballroom-walls#ixzz3rNCXEA4z
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Urban Blight

Published front page at SunStar Davao

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FIVE years ago at another residence, 53-year-old Bucana resident Nanay Violeta Bustamante defecated and urinated in old rice sacks and bags of cellophane. A mother of eight, she recalled how she and her children would sometimes go to the beach to attend to the calls of nature. Now five years later, what serves as her toilet is no longer the beach, but instead, the fish pond that she, along with other informal settlers, live around.

The pond which used to house fishes like bangus or milkfish for consumption is now a slough full of bags of feces and garbage.

Nanay Violeta is one of the informal settlers of Barangay 76-A Purok 22 San Isidro Kalubihan, Kabacan, who has no access to proper sanitation. Kabacan is an area which is part of Bucana, one of Davao City’s largest stretch of villages. Bucana’s 466 hectares of land is home to over 200,000 residents many of them fishermen, laborers, drivers, and other daily wage earners.

Nanay Violeta now lives alone, earning enough for her daily expenses from doing laundry, home massage, and pa-suhol or baby-sitting. Her house which she had assembled herself from assorted pieces of wood and tarpaulins has only a spread out rice sacks as a roof with no electricity and water connections. She buys water from her neighbor.

Barangay Bucana is part of the Philippine government’s Slum Improvement and Rehabilitation (SIR) Phase 1 project, which is a World Bank-funded urban poor mass housing program established in 1985. To date, it is home to informal settlers who live in shanties, and many of whom have no access to proper sanitation.

In a 2010 study by the Housing and Urban Development Coordinating Council (HUDCC) it placed the estimated unmet housing needs or backlog as of January 1, 2011 to 1.225-million housing units.

The bulk of this backlog, the report said, are intended for informal settlers households “comprising 57.15 percent while the doubled up households consisted 35.7 percent of the total unmet needs.” Doubled up households means houses that more than one family live in.

“Incremental needs from 2011 to 2017 averages about 729,000 households. Come 2017, total housing needs already reached 6.3 million households,” the report further said.

As of May 1, 2010, HUDCC estimates the backlog in Davao City at 27,774 households.

In 2010, the Davao City Council passed the Septage and Sewerage Management Ordinance, a legislation that orders local governments to provide communal toilets in villages inhabited by informal settlers.

Two years after, the NSSMP (National Sewerage and Septic Management Program) was approved. The program was said to be designed for the improvement of water quality and public health in the Philippines by 2020 by improving the ability of local implementers to build and operate effective wastewater treatment systems.

But the inaccessibility to proper sanitation for informal settlers, according to residents, has been a pressing issue for quite some time now, yet they still wait for a response from officials.

“They know about it,” Marilou Dumama, a resident of Kabacan, said referring to the barangay officials.

Marilou is the stepdaughter of the fish pond owner. She said she would often call out to children of the settlers as they defecate or urinate directly to the pond even in broad daylight.

She used to be one of the pond’s caretakers. Marilou narrated they used to grow fish for their personal consumption, until such time that they decided to stop their efforts, seeing that the fishes ate human feces.
But that is not the only problem, Marilou said. She claims that a septic tank from a nearby area excretes its waste directly to the pond, giving off a foul stench.

“Sa kabaho, minsan kabuhi-on nalang mi (Sometimes the foul smell would make us feel nauseous),” she said.

The only action taken, Marilou said, was fogging, a preventive action for dengue. But, she added, the fogging was sponsored by Korean health workers, and not from the barangay.

“Naa may bayanihan didto saluyo, pero diri wala gyud (They have bayanihan in some areas here, but never here in our place),” Marilyn said when referring to the mound of garbage filling up the pond.

Bayanihan is a Filipino term for “helping each other out.” It is considered a culture and also a trademark for Filipinos that residents will all come to help a neighbor in need.

The Asian Development Bank, in a 2009 study, said 58 percent of the country’s groundwater was contaminated by infectious waste coming from unsanitary septic tanks, wastewater discharge from industries, and runoffs from agricultural fields and dumpsites.

Michelle de Leon, a barangay official, admitted that one of Bucana’s problems is the lack of public toilets.

While for the Davao City Health Office (CHO,) Curtis Larrazaga, head of the sanitation division, said the lack of clean communal toilets is a sanitary and public health concern. “Without clean toilets, we can only expect infections and diseases,” Larrazaga said in an interview.

DENR (Department of Environment and Natural Resources) Secretary Ramon Paje said that only less than 10 percent of the Filipino population is connected to piped sewerage, while over 20 million Filipinos do not have access to proper sanitation.

Paje also said that local governments must take the initiative of putting up their own sanitation and wastewater treatment facilities to prevent their constituents from dumping garbage into waterways and to avoid toxic sludge excavated from septic tanks reach the rivers.

Barangay Bucana was reported to have internal revenue of 30 million pesos for the previous year alone, with over 20 million allotted for public infrastructures and reforestation projects.

Nanay Violeta and the rest of the settlers are still waiting for help.