The undeniable truth: Stop asking Class E if they are poor
My years in development work took me to the poorest communities across Asia, South America, Latin America, and Africa. In these places, you don’t need to ask a mother how much money she makes a month to know she is poor, or whether her family is poor, nonpoor, or somewhere in between.
Nothing can mask the face of poverty. You find families getting by in shacks with earthen floors, without running water, and sanitary toilets. Everyday conveniences of the well-off don’t exist in these homes. And the nearest classroom or health center is kilometers away.
They are poor because they were born poor. They are in a generational trap, inheriting the hardship from their forebears. But they believe education might finally give their children a way out. You can see this harsh reality written right on their faces, weathered by the elements.
Faith is used as a buffer against how cruel life can be. They celebrate religious festivals amidst the thievery and inept, self-serving governments.
They have been toughened by a hard life even before they could walk. But that legendary resilience carries a bitter irony. Finding a bit of happiness in tiny improvements helps them get by, but it also lets a failing government completely off the hook. When the poor use their own grit to absorb the shock of a crisis, corrupt politicians get a free pass to keep misusing public funds.
The poor have a short memory for pain. Hope is back the next day or two. In our country, this is amplified by a Christmas season that defies all logic. It starts as early as September and stretches all the way into February or March. For half the year, the anticipation of Jose Mari Chan’s yuletide lyrics and the lingering warmth of the holidays provide a long emotional high. Pride also plays a big role. They will downplay how hard their lives are to keep their dignity. But the moment an “ayuda” or nongovernmental organization loan comes around, those same families will quickly describe their lives as miserable. But it’s survival, not dishonesty.
So, what should we make of all this when tracking poverty? In our country, the government utilizes the Family Income and Expenditure Survey to establish a contentious poverty threshold. If a family makes just a few pesos above that line, the government mathematically labels them “not poor.”
But a spreadsheet cannot see the long distance a mother walks for water, or the fact that her roof is caving in. Lately, the Philippine Statistics Authority (PSA) has tried using the Multidimensional Poverty Index to look beyond just money, while pollsters like Social Weather Stations still run self-rated poverty polls. But even these metrics fall flat because they treat human lives like a checklist, and they get warped by the natural optimism of the poor. A positive poll response right after a flood doesn’t mean poverty went down. It just means they are glad to be alive.
Common sense and basic ethics tell us it’s time for a change. PSA and pollsters need to stop asking Class E respondents about their income or whether they consider themselves poor. Standing inside a barong-barong with a clipboard to force a struggling family to put a number on their suffering is pointless, even degrading. Their poverty is an undeniable truth, plain as the dirt right outside their front door. Instead of interrogating the poor to fit them into bureaucratic boxes, the PSA and pollsters need to flip the camera. Stop measuring the pockets of the victims, and start measuring the failures of the government. Track the missing schools and clinics, the broken roads, and the disappeared flood control structures. That is where the real story of poverty lies.
Nono Felix,
felixnono9@gmail.com
For letters to the editor and contributed articles, email to opinion@inquirer.net
