Filipinos have a phrase “libre naman mangarap,” which can be translated to “it is free to dream anyway.” I mainly hear people use this remark sarcastically, when they resign themselves to the reality of an unattainable dream. Indeed, there is truth to this saying, especially for many who have limited, or even non-existent, means to realize such dreams. But what if I told you that even if dreaming is free, there are some people who are unwilling to pay that price?
Allow me to tell you a recent experience of mine which revealed this harsh truth.
As part of an ongoing project with the Barangay People’s Council (BPC) in Naga City, we conducted a community consultation to discover what barangay members desire. The rationale behind these interviews was to help the BPC’s leadership gather data on their neighbors’ interests and incorporate these into their five-year agenda. Through this activity, I had the opportunity to engage with BPC leaders and some of their members. Each one I conversed with shared interesting ideas, stories, and perspectives that shed light on the realities of living in our country.
However, I had a particularly memorable exchange with one person. Let’s call her Nanay Bituin. Nanay Bituin is in her late forties, has four kids, and manages her own sari-sari (sundries) store. Following the design of our interview guide, I first asked her what kind of future she wanted for her barangay. Normally people rambled about what they desire — but after giving her a few seconds to respond, it seemed like she had nothing in mind. I then tweaked the question by just asking what her own dream was for herself. She then replied by saying “wala ako maisip.” (I cannot think of one).
At that point, I struggled to decide how best I could continue the conversation. I then thought of asking her what she dreamt of for her children. Suddenly, the floodgates of information opened, and she started sharing. The dream, she explained to me, was for her four kids to finish school and find a job. She believes that being employed will provide her children with a monthly salary and financial stability that can help them live better lives. She does not want any of her children to get stuck managing their small store since its earnings are not enough to sustain their family’s needs. She added that in their barangay alone, there are too many similar stores competing for customers, which makes income volatile and insufficient to make ends meet. As the interview came to a close, we thanked each other and parted ways. She left to pick up her kids from school, while I continued to interview other members of their barangay.
In the succeeding days, this particular encounter kept coming up in my mind. I was feeling all sorts of emotions. For one, I was touched that she was willing to set aside her personal dreams and work tirelessly for her kids. I witnessed firsthand the selflessness and love of a mother who sacrificed her own personal fulfillment so that her kids would find their own. On the other hand, I could not help but feel bothered by the fact that she was resigned to the idea that she could no longer dream for herself. At this point in her life, she probably feels so powerless to fulfill her own dreams and change her fate. This encounter made me rethink the phrase “Libre naman mangarap.” While we are indeed free to dream, life becomes so difficult for some people that they become cynical and develop a fatalistic perspective. She therefore made me ask myself, “libre nga ba mangarap?” (Is it really free to dream?)
As I ponder this question, I surmise that all roads lead to poverty and inequality. On the surface, dreaming of a better life for oneself does not cost anything. Yet, the story of Nanay Bituin made me realize that to dream has a lot of hidden costs. Living in poverty is so costly that it numbs one’s hopes and aspirations for oneself. Let me paint the picture further. Even if she has a livelihood, Nanay Bituin still does not earn enough to keep her family secure. She is not even certain that she can afford to provide for all her children’s education and her family’s health. This is aggravated by the fact that she does not see a better opportunity for her to choose. If there was, she said that she would happily leave her highly competitive retail business.
In this sense, Nanay Bituin is no longer living to work, nor working to live, but rather working to survive. The poverty statistics of the Philippines tell us that she is not alone. According to the Philippine Statistics Authority, in the first semester of 2023, about 25.24 million Filipinos did not earn enough to meet their basic food and non-food needs. This means there are millions of other Nanay Bituins who are more preoccupied with what they need for today or tomorrow.
It also must be said that our current systems are failing to enable our people to dream. This is a cause for concern — if we allow unjust systems to make it hard for our people to dream, then it is possible that more Filipinos will adopt fatalistic perspectives. According to a scholar named Lawrence E. Harrison, countries that have fatalistic perspectives possess qualities that resist economic development. In countries with these qualities, the majority of their people only work to survive, believe that hard work will not get them anywhere, and are rarely willing to take entrepreneurial risks. These qualities (some of which are already present in Nanay Bituin) lead to low economic progress because people are more inclined to accept their unfortunate fate. In this case, they will no longer strive for better futures, hold decision makers accountable for their future, and at worst, get stuck in a culture of dependency and patronage that further aggravates their disempowered state.
Now, not everyone has adopted a fatalistic perspective in our country, but a sense of urgency is needed. A world values survey conducted in 2019 showed that many Filipinos, despite their harsh realities, still have mindsets that could push a more inclusive economic development — 66.8% of our low-income population said that they agree or somewhat agree with the idea that “hard work” will bring them a better life. Moreover, 61.5% said that they have a great deal or somewhat have control over their destiny. These data points showcase Filipinos’ resilience against all odds.
However, we should not be too comfortable with this noteworthy “resilience” of Filipinos. We have to ask ourselves: for how long can “resilience” keep the hopes of our people alive? How much suffering can millions of Filipinos really bear until their aspirations for a better life crumble?
If you are looking for answers, I am not here to provide them because this problem is much bigger than me or any institution. Instead, I wrote this piece for those of us who can still dream, with the hope that we can imagine a better life for most Filipinos and collectively act on this crisis of disempowerment staring right at us. So, whether big or small, I hope each of us can find ways to empower our people to no longer just “dream to live” but instead “live to dream.”
Carlo Lopa is currently taking his Master’s in Futures Studies at the University of Houston.
