Ever since humans invented the wheel, transportation has been about connection—bringing people together, moving goods, and bridging cultures. Progress, in many ways, rides on the back of reliable transit. But here in the Philippines, our legendary resilience is being stretched to its breaking point, not by a sudden crisis, but by a daily grind that turns a simple commute into a battle for sanity.
We Filipinos are masters of diskarte. When life gives us lemons, we don’t just make lemonade; we figure out how to sell it. But that ingenuity shouldn’t be a permanent requirement just to get to work on time. Our ability to adapt is being exploited, masking a broken system that desperately needs genuine change, not just more patient commuters.
My own breaking point came last November. As a night-shift warrior in the BPO industry—the lifeblood of our economy that employs over 1.5 million Filipinos—I decided to take on the mythical "day shift." Anyone in a BPO knows: attendance is sacred. Tardiness isn’t just frowned upon; it’s a metric that stares back at you from performance reviews, leading to NTEs (Notice to Explain), suspensions, or worse. My mission was simple: be infallible.
I gave myself a huge buffer. My plan was foolproof: leave Marikina early, ride a modern jeepney to Cubao Gateway, glide through the mall’s air-conditioned underpass (a genius shortcut for mall-walkers and commuters alike), and be at the MRT station by 6:30 AM for a breezy ride to work by 7:00 AM.
But as I emerged from Gateway’s cool confines, the scene on the street was pure chaos. A sea of people stood glued to their phones, faces lit by the glow of ride-hailing apps. My heart sank. This wasn’t the usual morning rush; this was the stillness of a system in cardiac arrest. I pushed forward, only to see the dreaded sign: “MRT-3: DERAILLED. NO SERVICE FROM CUBAO TO SHAW.”
Seriously?! Panic set in, not just for me, but for hundreds of us—workers whose livelihoods depend on being on time. The script had flipped. Our carefully calculated diskarte was useless.
What followed was a two-hour odyssey of pure stress. We became a river of people, marching towards the EDSA Carousel station near P. Tuazon. The line was a testament to collective desperation. The humid air, heavy with sweat and frustration, made the cramped flyover feel like a sauna. People shouted. Some cursed. All while clutching bags, dignity slowly evaporating.
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| We fall in line in the other side of overpass in Edsa, Central Avenue |
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| The crowded and not so systemic line of passengers coming from Cubao MRT Station hoping to get into work by 8am |
I arrived at work late for the first time. My perfect record, shattered. Not by my own lack of effort, but by a transportation system that feels like it’s actively working against us.
This wasn’t just a bad day; it was a symptom. Commuting in Metro Manila is a daily battle. Not with swords or guns, but a war of attrition against your own patience, within an ecosystem of dysfunction. Studies, like those from the Japan International Cooperation Agency (JICA), estimate that Metro Manila’s traffic congestion costs the Philippine economy a staggering ₱3.5 billion per day in lost productivity. Meanwhile, the World Bank has highlighted that our public transport system remains fragmented and fails to meet the growing demand of the megacity.
The unreliability isn’t just an inconvenience; it’s a clear signal of a deep, systemic failure that scholars call a "policy gridlock." As political scientist John T. Sidel of the London School of Economics argues in his analysis, Averting “Carmageddon” Through Reform?, the traffic crisis is a result of an entire ecosystem of problems—fragmented agencies, conflicting political interests, and short-term fixes—that create a paralyzing gridlock preventing real, lasting solutions from taking root.
The news is full of proposals and promises, but the experience on the ground is one of ambiguity and ambivalence. As journalist and urban planner Felix R. Roxas often critiques, there is a glaring gap between planning and execution in our transport governance.
This issue of traffic and poor transit is more than just a daily headache; it’s a political and systemic mirror reflecting who we prioritize as a society. The real battle isn’t about how much more frustration people can absorb. The question is: when will our leaders truly see us—the sweaty, tired, resilient commuters—and break the gridlock to prove, through clear and consistent action, that they are here to serve the people, not just endure them?
I survived that commute from hell. But until the system changes, millions of us will be fighting the same battle tomorrow.
References
IBPAP. (2023). Philippine IT-BPM industry statistics. IT & Business Process Association of the Philippines. https://www.ibpap.org/
Japan International Cooperation Agency. (2014). Roadmap for transport infrastructure development for Metro Manila and its surrounding areas. https://www.jica.go.jp/english/our_work/thematic_issues/urban/pdf/mm_roadmap_en.pdf
Roxas, F. R. (2023, June 15). The gap between planning and commuting hell. Philippine Daily Inquirer. https://opinion.inquirer.net/162567/the-gap-between-planning-and-commuting-hell
Sidel, J. T. (2019). Averting “Carmageddon” through reform? An eco-systemic analysis of traffic congestion and transportation policy gridlock in Metro Manila. London School of Economics. (Unpublished manuscript).
World Bank. (2017). Philippines urbanization review: Fostering competitive, sustainable and inclusive cities. World Bank Group. https://www.worldbank.org/en/country/philippines/publication/philippines-urbanization-review-fostering-competitive-sustainable-and-inclusive-cities
