Last Christmas Eve, it was my turn to go to the emergency room (ER) for an unusually (but not surprising) high blood pressure. I was on Nicardipine drip to bring down the pressure.
“How long do I need to be on this IV treatment?” I asked the doctor on duty, worried to be leaving my mom at home. “Depends on when you will calm down and chill,” was the smiling reply.
Well, I guess I was putting the ER in MERry Christmas this year. I just wished they decorated the ER more and played holiday music while I was there.
I was allowed to go home after three hours. I was determined to feel good enough to go on a road and food trip with a few of my favorite friends as a post-Christmas adventure. I wanted to have my fun before our household staff go on their own holiday towards the new year. But my body had other ideas. It wanted sleep. So I slept for two days straight and got up only when mom’s yaya (my backup caregiver) informed me she’s having difficulty breathing.
So hello again, ER.
I am writing this in the hospital. My mom had difficulty breathing that we really thought she was going to die. Her doctors think it might be heart failure. We cannot know for sure because her cardiologist is on holiday. We have been referred to another cardiologist but she forgot to include my mom when she made the rounds yesterday and now she’s on holiday, too. So we are waiting for the next available cardiologist.
Mom is feeling better and can breathe okay now. Vital signs are good. She’s even off the IV now. They just need to perform more tests. And, yes, waiting to be checked by an available cardiologist. So we are just chilling here now pretending we are also on a holiday.
We are missing the Metro Manila Film Festival (MMF) this year because of this. But the hospital is full of stories of families struggling, crying, praying for miracles, and getting anxious about their hospital bills. There are many good MMFF stories streaming in real life in the ER. We are not alone.
Last night my mom and I watched a year-end report on TV news. It is not something I would recommend watching while confined in the hospital. There were no stories of hope and redemption, just natural and political disasters. We were reminded of the PhilHealth issue once again. Since this is mom’s third hospitalization for this year, I am resigned to the fact that we will be maxing out our credit cards to pay for the bill. Even if there might be assistance still available for us (this being election season and all), government offices are already closed for the holidays.
I think of those who do not have credit cards, who barely survive life’s daily challenges. How will they get through the challenge of a medical emergency in a broken healthcare system? I remember what Rodrigo Duterte said when he was still city mayor when a poor old woman told him her husband died of kidney disease: “Ma’am, dili sakit ang gikamatay sa imong bana, ang kapobrehon.” (It was not the illness that caused the death of your husband, but poverty.) And, yes, corruption is also actively murdering us.
On my many group chats, I see a shared post credited to Raniel Dan Avila Samplano entitled “The Blind Leading the Lost: A Nation Betrayed.” It started with a quote from Martin Luther King, Jr.: “He who accepts evil without protesting against it is really cooperating with it.” The post basically said that “our silence makes us complicit.” That somehow the Filipino people brought this upon themselves because they are not protesting in the streets fighting the government right now.
I am uncomfortable with this statement. Not only because I am exhausted and do not have the bandwidth needed to fight and change the status quo right at this moment. But I think blaming people for their perceived apathy is a privileged perspective. It overlooks the structural and systemic barriers that constrain people’s ability to act.
Majority of Filipinos living in this corrupt system face overwhelming obstacles such as poverty, lack of access to basic services (like quality and affordable health care), and oppression, which make activism or resistance very difficult.
Challenging corruption can lead to severe consequences like violence, imprisonment, or loss of livelihood. Privileged individuals may underestimate the risks that others face for speaking out. We all know what happens to whistle blowers in this country, even when they belong to the privileged class.
People struggling to meet basic needs often prioritize survival over activism. Expecting them to fight without addressing these economic realities reflects a lack of understanding of their circumstances.
This also assumes all Filipinos have equal access to information. Privileged individuals have access to independent media, education, and global perspectives while others live in environments where propaganda, censorship or lack of literacy limits their understanding of corruption and its impact. Especially when corruption is normalized and deeply ingrained in our society due to historical factors like colonialism, authoritarianism, and systemic inequality. These contexts shape people’s behaviors and expectations.
Blaming people’s inaction also stems from a simplistic view of agency. Privilege can lead to the assumption that everyone has the same capacity to organize, resist, or protest. This ignores the systemic disempowerment that often accompanies corruption, such as weakened civil institutions, lack of legal recourse, or fragmented communities.
Privileged perspectives romanticize protest and resistance without appreciating the emotional and physical toll it takes on those who participate, especially in repressive environments.
Blaming individuals shifts the focus away from systemic reforms and institutional accountability, placing an undue burden on those with the least power to enact change.
Instead of blaming people for apathy, it is more effective to understand and address the barriers they face and create safe and accessible pathways for participation in anti-corruption efforts. It is better to advocate for systemic reforms and recognize that meaningful change often requires collective action with institutional, legal, and societal support. By acknowledging these dynamics, we can move beyond blame and work toward solutions that are inclusive and equitable.
The people are not silent and they are not complicit. They are just overwhelmed. Blaming them will not make them act, it will only make them defensive and resentful. Because it is not their fault. It is a system failure.
