Freedom in the Philippines is declining, according to Freedom House’s most recent report Freedom in the World 2017. The report cited the thousands of extrajudicial killings committed since the start of the President’s war on drugs as the primary reasons for the downward trend. The report also identified the Philippines as among countries that “may be approaching important turning points in their democratic trajectory, and deserve special scrutiny during the coming year.” Others in that category are Iraq, Zimbabwe, Kyrgyzstan and Tanzania.
The ongoing debate over the current administration’s drive against drugs and criminality is important, especially for its impact on our democracy as a whole. But we should not overlook the underlying cause of our nation’s malaise—the yawning gap between the few who are very rich and the millions of Filipinos who struggle daily to survive.
A 2010 study led by Romulo Virola, former secretary-general of the National Statistical Coordination Board (NSCB), found that only 0.1 percent, or 19,738 Filipino families, belong to the high-income group, with an average monthly income of P194,965. In contrast, 80.8 percent, or 14.07 million families, belong to the low-income group with an average monthly income of only P7,513. The 2015 Family Income and Expenditure Survey (FIES) shows that the income of the richest 10 percent of the population is nine times more than the income of the poorest 10 percent. The total net worth, in fact, of Forbes’s 10 richest Filipinos for 2016 is $53 billion, or P2.63 trillion, which is almost 20 percent of the country’s GDP. In fact, their total net worth is just P372 billion shy of the 2016 national budget (P3.002 trillion).
Exacerbating the problem appears to be a largely disconnected—if not entirely indifferent—elite, comprised of both the wealthy and powerful. To be clear, a 2011 Economist Intelligence Unit (EIU) report noted that the Philippines has among the longest recorded histories of organized giving in Asia, while a 2014 Singapore Management University study on Southeast Asian philanthropy noted that the Philippine philanthropic sector is fairly mature compared to its neighbors. But when one looks at the charities the rich and powerful pursue and spend for, the projects are repetitive and duplicative.
For instance, some large business associations and chambers of commerce do almost the same thing—build school houses. Certainly, a school house is necessary to education. And the perennial lack of classrooms is one of the biggest factors that greatly pulled down the quality of our children’s schooling.
But education—with public health and housing—is a public good that the government is duty-bound to provide. Despite massive funds from private organizations, foreign aid agencies and individual donations, the classroom shortage persists. Is it because ironically private philanthropy and foreign support have become a disincentive for government to allocate more for school houses?
And does this not suggest also that the elite are not addressing equally grave issues eating into our society’s heart—such as the pitiable state of malnutrition among our school-age kids? 2015 data from the government’s Food Nutrition and Research Institute (FNRI) showed that up to 33.5 percent—one out of three—Filipino children under 5 were chronically malnourished. They are either underweight or short in height. This so-called chronic malnutrition rate was the highest in 10 years. A 2016 Save the Children report even estimated that severe malnutrition among our children cost the country at least P328 billion in economic losses—around 2.83 percent of our 2013 GDP.
Malnutrition is not a new problem of the country, however. In fact, as early as 2002, this public-health hazard motivated me and a group of business and civic leaders to launch the Kalusugan ng Bata, Karunungan ng Bayan (K and K) program—involving the launching of the first scientifically formulated school-meal menu. This program ran until the early 2010s.
With help from the Department of Social Welfare and Development and donations from the private sector, 25,500 students from 50 partner-schools across seven provinces and five cities were put under a 120-day feeding program for three years. The dropout rate in their schools plunged by more than 50 percent. Academic performance and physical health dramatically rose.
Later, we launched the OMG (“Oh My Gulay!”) campaign, where elementary students were encouraged to eat healthy by getting them involved in planting and maintaining in-campus vegetable and fruit gardens.
We hope that the government and other private groups adopt good practices and come up with more comprehensive and sustained programs to combat the ongoing scourge of child malnutrition. The response so far has been lackluster and discouraging.
Aren’t our business tycoons and their executives aware and shouldn’t they be fearful of the absenteeism and low productivity such stunted workers unhappily show? If so, their philanthropy ought to be applied to ameliorating, if not eliminating such a health hazard. Just a fraction of the combined $53 billion, or P2.63 trillion net worth, of the 10 wealthiest Filipinos would spark national rejuvenation.
E-mail: angara.ed@gmail.com, Facebook and Twitter: @edangara