As the economic crisis worsens and prices continue to surge, poor families are now cutting down even on the basics. These are stories of three women in different circumstances. But their stories are the same and all to familiar.

BY ANGIE DE LARA
Bulatlat
Volume VIII, No. 21, June 29-July 5, 2008

Nowadays, daily survival is a headache not only for housewives but for every poor Filipino.

Tess Jusi, 47, mother of four, sells fruits to augment the income of her husband who works as a security guard. Her husband’s salary is P7,000 ($156.28 at an exchange rate of $1=P44.79) per month but the take home pay is only less than P6,000 ($133).

As of March 2008, the National Wages and Productivity Commission placed the daily cost of living for a family of six in the National Capital Region at P858 ($19.15). It means that to be able to live decently, a family needs to earn P25, 740 ($574.68) per month.

It is not surprising that Tess finds it difficult to make both ends meet for the family. Her income as a fruit vendor, an average of P75 to P100 ($1.67 to $2.23) a day, is spent for the family’s food. Her husband’s salary is allotted for their house rental, electric and water bills, and school fees for their Grade IV daughter. Their daughter, she says, goes to school without any baon (pocket money and food). Before, Tess relates that they could send their two children to college and high school at the same time, complete with a cash allowance.

As for the family’s food, Tess says that in the past, they could afford to buy a kilo of meat once a week. These days, she only buys half a kilo at least twice a month, usually during her husband’s payday. With the increase in prices of commercial rice, Tess is even more burdened. Even with the NFA (National Food Authority) rice pegged at P18 to P25 ($0.40 to $0.558) per kilogram, still, Tess cannot afford to buy more than two kilos. She also laments having to queue when buying the NFA rice as it eats up most of her time. “I would have one or two kilos of rice but I would not have the money to buy for the viand and the food for the next day because no one could take my place at the fruit stand.

Tess adds “Kaya walang silbi sa pamilya ko yung programa ng gobyerno na murang bigas na NFA”(So the program of the government selling cheap rice is useless for my family.)

Hard work is still not enough

Fe Agresam, 39, mother of three, is the breadwinner of the family. She works as a street sweeper at the Department of Public Works and Highways (DPWH) and as a part-time laundry woman. All her children are still studying. His husband could not work because of tuberculosis.

Her monthly salary as a street sweeper is P6,000 ($133) and she earns an extra P1,200 ($26.79) as a laundry woman. She tightens her belt to meet the family’s needs – food, utilities and education. Fe also laments that most of the time, the release of her salary from DPWH is delayed for more than a month. When she finally gets it, she uses it to pay for her debts.

Much as she wants to, she can no longer afford to attend to her husband’s medical needs. “Nagpunta rin ako sa Barangay Health Center sa lugar namin para maghingi ng tulong kasi sabi sa advertisement may gamut para sa TB patient sa mga barangay pero hindi naman kumpleto, E diba pag TB na gamot kailangan full dosage ng at least anim na buwan.” (I tried to seek assistance from our village health center because it was advertised that medicines for TB patients could be availed of for free. But the TB medicines at the health center are not complete. Isn’t it that for TB to be cured, the patient must take the full dosage of medicines for six months?)

So her husband just stays at home because he cannot work with his condition.

These days, Fe says, they can no longer buy any meat for their viand; they just eat vegetables or eggs to satisfy their hunger.

Rest is a luxury for Fe. She works for more than eight hours under the sweltering heat or rain. At night, she washes other people’s clothes to augment her income.

Fe is bracing for the worse. Her contract at the DPWH would end this June; she would be replaced by another worker. “Paano ko mabubuhay ang pamilya ko mula sa kita sa paglalaba?” (How can I possibly sustain my family from my meager income as a laundry woman?)

Extending the budget

Riza Laguna, 45, works as a secretary in an insurance company. She, too, has to resort to austerity measures to cope with the increases in prices of basic commodities.

Before, she can afford to rent a room on her own for P4,000 ($89) per month, but now she needs to share it with somebody.

To be able to save money for food, she has to sacrifice other things. Instead of riding a tricycle, which cost her P16 ($0.357), she walks for two to three kilometers when going to market.

When cooking a vegetable dish, she used to add a slice of meat or fish but now she just buys a “ginisa flavor mix” (instant flavoring) to add flavor to her food. Whenever she craves for meat, she satisfies her hunger by buying a few sticks of barbeque but this still depends if she has spare money left.

Different circumstances, same stories

These three women are living in different circumstances: Tess shares the burden of trying to eke out a living with her husband; Fe has a sick husband and is the sole breadwinner; and Riza is single. But their stories are the same and are all too familiar.

Bulatlat ran a story in 2006 of urban poor families in Tondo, Manila trying to survive by eating “pagpag” (literally meaning to shake off the dirt) or leftover food thrown in garbage bins by restaurants. That was two years ago when the price of gasoline was only P39.37 per liter or 34 percent of its current price.

For most Filipinos, the question is no longer what is in store for them in the future but how they can survive another day. Bulatlat