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Friday, September 27, 2002
WENCESLAO: Poverty
By Bong Wenceslao
Scenes of grieving are once again tugging at the hemlines of our collective conscience. The past few days saw three families—in Toledo City, Asturias and Consolacion—undergo what one other went through—also in Consolacion—some three months ago. It is really difficult to contend with the loss of children during a fire.
I can sympathize with these families because a fire hit our place only recently. And our family and immediate relatives haven’t even fully recovered. True, we didn’t contend with the loss of somebody dear to us, and for that we thank the heavens. But the pain was enough for us to easily connect with others similarly situated.
There is one common thread that bound the family that lost three children in Toledo City, the family that lost two children in Asturias and the family that lost a child in Consolacion in a span of four days: they were all poor. No, I’m not angling for sympathy there; I’m just stating a fact—one that is at the root of all these tragedies.
Which reminds me of some of the text messages I received recently defending the Cebu City Government’s demolition of the stalls of the sidewalk vendors along the Osmeña Blvd. side of the Basilica del Sto. Niño. They spewed words about poverty and how it should not be used as an excuse to violate the laws on sidewalk vending.
How sad, because those who harbor this kind of thinking don’t really know poverty. Not because they are rich but because they are either blind or pretending to be so (remember Noli’s Doña Victorina?). Poverty is that mother in Toledo who had to leave the kids to fetch water in a well; it is her husband who had to be away to drive a trisikad.
Poverty is the story of the individual vendor that many of us want to lynch just because his or her stall makes our movement in the sidewalks less enjoyable, or because they are eyesores to us, or because, according to your favorite mayor, they cause traffic congestion. And that story is raring to be heard, only that we simply don’t want to listen.
As I write this, that Tavares song is once again playing in my mind: “It depends on who is looking at the tenement wall, whether he’s coming home or passing through.”
To paraphrase: It depends on who is looking at those sidewalk stalls, whether he’s coming home there or merely passing by. That’s what you call perspective.
I grew up in what many would derisively call “squatters area.” When I was a child, I would sit in the verandah of our house in Sitio Kawayan and watch scavengers, some of them my friends, pass by. When I grew older, I joined my barkada sell newspapers in Fuente Osmeña. I haven’t forgotten those scenes. I never will.
I’m saying this to point out that, yes, poverty can be an excuse. That is, if we listen to the stories told over and over—in Toledo City, Asturias, Consolacion and even in the areas surrounding the Basilica del Sto. Niño. I mean, if we use poverty as an excuse, the operative word wouldn’t be anarchy. It’s something more noble: compassion.
TEXT REAX. Rod Bitoy of Pardo was apparently one of those caught in yesterday’s flashflood. Here’s his message:
“The city of Venice in Italy is a city of canals. But Cebu City sometimes becomes a Venice. Streets in some parts of our metropolis literally became canals yesterday when it rained for almost two hours. Mayor Tomas Osmeña should have asked the Council to pass an ordinance penalizing the water from jaywalking or blocking the flow of traffic in areas like Pardo, Inayawan and Basak, to name a few.” My response: Ride on, Rod.
Finally, here’s from an unidentified texter: “Air pollution in Sangat, San Fernando sobra na kabaho. Wake up government officials!” My response: Yeah, true. That’s why the place is called Barangay Baho.
(For the Text Reax portion, my cell phone number is 09169114241. Please give your complete name and address. My e-mail address is cowens21 @lycos.com)
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