WE LIVE in a country where pay doesn’t keep up with rising prices, millions of children go to school on empty stomachs, and parents lie awake at night unsure how they’ll afford to get through the week. And yet, in the same society, a privileged few accumulate wealth so vast they no longer know what to do with it, except spend it on things that serve no one but themselves.
How much more value does a five hundred thousand peso bag really offer, when a bag a fraction of the price serves the same purpose? And in a country where millions go without meals, clean water, or basic education, such displays should trouble us. We must stop celebrating wealth that shines in private closets while the poor remain unseen and unsupported. Having more than enough should come with a commitment to those who have far too little. Why? No one builds wealth alone.
Behind every millionaire and billionaire are countless people — employees, laborers, drivers, kasambahay — whose hard work makes that wealth possible.
And yet we continue to see a troubling pattern. The wealthiest people in society enjoy unimaginable luxury while paying their workers the legal minimum or only slightly more. From large corporations to private households, those who help sustain the rich often remain in poverty, working long hours with little security. Meanwhile, their employers purchase watches worth a year’s rent, handbags that could send hundreds of kids to school, or vacations that cost more than an average family’s annual income.
This is not just inequality. It is a moral failure.
Let me be clear. I am not calling for equal wealth. Absolute equality is not the goal. But we must have morality in how we see and use our wealth. Because if you are rich in a society where many are still hungry, uneducated, and sick, then you have a responsibility.
Wealth is not just a personal achievement. It is a social outcome. It exists because of other people — your workers, your helpers, your customers, your community, your country. If you are rich, you owe something. Not just to charity, not only during the holidays, and not only when it is convenient. You owe something to the very people who helped make your success possible.
You owe your helpers fair wages and dignity. You owe your employees livable salaries and long-term security. You owe your community opportunity, investment, and care. And you owe your country a sense of justice and shared humanity.
Then some people defend the rich by saying, "They earned it." But poor people work hard too. Many work even harder. They clean, lift, serve, build, and care, often in the background and without rest. The difference is not effort. It is access, opportunity, and structural advantage.
What is the point of having more than enough if the people around you still have nothing? How can it be acceptable to earn billions while the hands that built your business retire with nothing? How can you enjoy every luxury imaginable while your staff silently prays they do not get sick because they cannot afford medical care?
When a single bag costs what a struggling family needs for a home, choosing luxury over humanity is disregard disguised as success.