Since the quarantine was declared all over Luzon, nearly everyone has had something to complain about. We are a tactile species after all—we learn more from touching things than from merely looking at them; we are a social species—we crave connection and we wither in isolation; we are a joyful people—we celebrate life, not just survive it. A world that deliberately prevents us from being these things will inevitably cause unhappiness. And yet, regardless of how well (or how poorly) we’ve taken to this quarantine, the great mass of Filipinos—while being almost universally miserable—can still be divided into two sharply differing categories: those who comply with the various restrictions imposed by the government, and those who do not.
By and large, I think the compliant population constitutes the majority of Filipinos. We stay home and venture out only when absolutely necessary. We dutifully turn on the television and radio to get our fix of news and validation for our guesses about when the quarantine will be lifted. And we rediscover old hobbies or take up new ones like balcony gardening. We are the quiet ones who, apart from the occasional rant on social media, can be relied upon to march to the government’s beat.
In contrast, although they may represent a smaller fraction of society, the noncompliant segment of the population has remained large enough and visible enough to irritate a hot-tempered President. There are, of course, valid arguments that explain much of this seemingly contrarian behavior. The need to provide for one’s family, for instance, will certainly push any person to test the limits of the quarantine. But even accounting for those instances where the reasons for violating quarantine protocols are, at least understandable, there are still far too many people whose behavior simply flies in the face of rationality.
These are the people who, against all warning, continue to congregate in large numbers for no better reason than that they have nothing better to do. The same people who, when they do go out for justifiable reasons—the performance of essential tasks, for example—ignore such common-sense precautionary measures as wearing masks and avoiding unnecessary physical contact with people and things. And among these people are probably the ones who, upon receiving financial aid, turn around and spend the money on cigarettes, booze, and recreational drugs. Considering how the virus is transmitted throughout a population, it doesn’t require a great stretch of the imagination to believe that these people are engines of the pandemic. It’s enough to drive a reasonable man up the wall, let alone a beleaguered Chief Executive.
Is it any wonder then, that as of this writing, the smart money is on the enhanced community quarantine—or ECQ—being extended beyond April 30? If it actually is, then regardless of whether we are among the compliant ones or not, we will all find ourselves in a world of pain. For those who have so far dutifully complied with the quarantine protocols, this will be a particularly bitter turn of events—to be made to suffer some more because of the intransigence of a few.
On the other hand, we are quickly approaching the point when non-compliance with the ECQ will become less about discipline and more a matter of simple survival. Remember that small segment of the population whose noncompliance could be considered “understandable?” Well, their numbers are growing.
The quarantine was always a war of attrition—we just didn’t feel it too much in the beginning, even when the first extension started cutting into our resource reserves. But a second extension of the quarantine will be deeply felt, especially by those of us whose buffers have already been significantly depleted. Just imagine how it will affect those who, even now, are under tremendous pressure to go out and make a living—to meet financial obligations, to care for the ill and elderly, to feed the hungry.