Manila sidewalks teem with out-of-school Muslims
(Pictures of Moros in Taguig and Tandang Sora can be viewed here.)
By Ilang-Ilang D. Quijano
They should be studying in cloistered elementaries, high schools and universities in homeland Mindanao, books and pen in hand. Yet here they are, in the noisy and congested streets of Metro Manila, clutching their wares and hawking to passers-by anything that can earn them a few pesos.
Pirated DVDs, cellphone accessories, combs, mirrors, padlocks, cigarettes, candies, light bulbs, sunglasses, bags, undergarments—the list of things he had sold for a living is endless, said Abet Ampaso, a 22-year old native of the Muslim province of Lanao del Sur.
Hailing from a family of poor farmers that could no longer send him to college, he came to Manila six years ago to look for a job. His dream of becoming a working student loomed large. This, however, quickly came crashing down as factories kept turning down his applications. “Before, Muslims were given jobs, even as security guards. But after September 11 [terrorist attacks in New York], nobody would trust us anymore. At the gate, they would immediately tell you that there is no vacany, while the others Christians in line are told to go inside,” he said.
The Philippines, a former colony of Spain, is predominantly Roman Catholic. But around five per cent of the population or approximately four million is Muslim. While most Muslims reside in Southern Philippines, poverty and conflict have driven many to Metro Manila since the 80s in search of better opportunities.
But for many Muslims, the only livelihood they could find was the one millions of other urban poor dwellers turn to in desperation.
Lorna Marangit, 24, said that sidewalk selling is a “hard life.” Faced with the constant threat of demolition, they lay out their goods every morning not knowing if they would be sold or merely confiscated by corrupt law enforcement officials.
Last June 29, she voluntarily tore down her makeshift store, because of rumors that the Metro Manila Development Agency (MMDA) will raze their stalls in Tandang Sora, Quezon City.
“We have learned our lesson. Last 2002, the MMDA demolished while the people were still asleep. They confiscated goods worth three months of labor. We had no livelihood for many months,” she said.
Despite paying the city government P1,300 for permits every quarter of the year, and the police P20 per day as “padulas” or illicit payment, no assurance of permanency is given them. The police, MMDA, and city government officials sometimes even get whatever they want from their stores, “especially during Christmas,” she said.
Lorna is a Muslim native of the province of Shariff Kabunsuan, one of the conflict areas between the military and the Moro Islamic Liberation Front (MILF), a rebel movement fighting for the secession of Moros (“Moro,” meaning “nation,” is the collective term used for Muslim Filipinos).
When she was 13, she was caught in a crossfire between government troops and the MILF. “My sister and I were walking near Camp Abubakar [MILF stronghold] and carrying an umbrella. Perhaps, the soldiers thought we were carrying a firearm and started shooting at us. The rebels fired back,” she said. Luckily, they were unharmed. But poverty and militarization (“helicopters would drop bombs at civilian houses,” “roads are lined with grenades”) forced her to drop out of school and try her luck in Manila.
Acording to Aslanie Domadalug, National Capital Region (NCR) chairperson of Liga ng Kabataang Moro (LKM) or League of Moro Youth, Abet and Lorna are only among the throusands of Muslim out-of-school youth displaced from Mindanao and working as sidewalk vendors in Manila.
The LKM, formed in 2003, is an attempt by the marginalized Muslim youth community to organize, create awareness among their ranks, and fight for their right to education. Most of its members are in Mindanao, but its NCR membership is fast growing.
To help LKM in its mission, Abet stopped selling to become a full-time organizer in Maharlika Village, a large Muslim community in Taguig City. “Whether you are selling or not, you are still poor. So it is better to be poor but have the pride of being able to do something for the greater good,” he said.
The LKM conducts clean-up drives in communities and helps sidewalk vendors in negotiating against demolition. They also hold educational discussions among the Muslim youth, explaining to them why they are in the streets and not in school.
“The government prioritizes military spending and debt servicing instead of education. It does not implement land reform or give job opportunities, so majority of Muslims who are farmers remain poor,” according to Domadalug. He added that “instead of addressing poverty as the root of the conflict in Mindanao, the government also opts for a purely military solution.”
With the impending implemention of the Human Security Act (HSA), the country’s new anti-terrorism law, LKM fears discriminatory actions against Muslims would escalate.
Abet and Lorna both attest to the penchant of law enforcement officials for arresting allegedly innocent Muslims for different crimes, from petty (vagrancy and theft) to hard (murder and involvement in illegal drugs). “They like to pick up Muslims because they know that we are very protective of our families and tribe members and would be willing to shell out money for each other. Mostly, Muslims are arrested so that the police are able to extort,” Lorna said.
In Maharlika Village, both legal and illicit bail bonds range from P20,000 to P30,000, according to Abet.
“If this could be done to Muslims even without the HSA, what more when the government is free to call anyone they want terrorists?” said Domadalug.
While formally uneducated, the harsh streets have taught these youth the real problems of the times. It is here that they are slowly learning their rights as Moros. They still dream of going to school one day. But now they know that it is a dream that has to be fought for together.
1 comment July 22, 2007
