Hawak mo ang jeep

By Noel Galon de Leon

I chose not to drive today because I wanted to place myself, deliberately and without insulation, inside the everyday reality that most people cannot opt out of. What unfolded was not just a commute across Iloilo City but a slow and layered encounter with how policy, economics, and power shape something as ordinary as movement. The walk from our subdivision already felt like an entry point into inequality. The absence of accessible transport immediately translated into spending more than planned. Riding a tricycle was not convenience but compulsion. Every added peso quietly accumulated into something heavy. The heat was not just weather but part of the exhaustion that frames the experience. Waiting by the roadside exposed how time is unevenly valued depending on who you are.

Modern jeepneys passed but rarely stopped. They were already full and already inadequate. The promise of efficiency dissolved into the reality of scarcity. Boarding one did not bring relief but another kind of discomfort. Air conditioning could not mask the tightness of bodies pressed together. Standing became unavoidable, and balance became a constant effort. Every sudden brake introduced a moment of fear that felt normalized yet should never be. Safety seemed secondary to throughput. The system appeared designed to move as many as possible at the least cost rather than to care for the people inside it.

I began to notice faces that were tired and resigned. Students carried not just bags but visible strain before even reaching school. Workers stared ahead, calculating time, expenses, and energy. Elderly passengers held on with quiet determination that felt both admirable and deeply unfair. The ride stretched longer than expected, not just in minutes but in the emotional weight it carried. I realized that commuting is no longer a neutral act. It is a daily negotiation with hardship.

The rising cost of fuel, driven by wars far beyond our borders, seeps directly into local life. Each increase in gasoline prices pushes fares upward. Higher fares ripple outward into food prices and basic goods. The burden multiplies across every aspect of living. It is always the ordinary commuter who absorbs the impact first and most intensely. There is no buffer and no protection. There is only adjustment. People skip meals, shorten trips, or forgo opportunities just to stay within budget. Education becomes indirectly compromised. Work becomes more draining before it even begins. Mobility itself turns into a privilege rather than a right.

The narrative of modernization is presented as inevitable and beneficial. It feels distant from the lived reality of those inside the vehicles. The infrastructure may look improved, but the experience remains strained. Drivers are often framed as obstacles to progress. In truth, they are among the most vulnerable. The cost of modern units places them in debt or forces them out entirely. Their protests are portrayed as disruptions. They are, in fact, expressions of survival. Their voices carry the same frustrations felt silently by passengers.

The line between driver and commuter begins to blur. Both are subject to the same economic pressures. The system asks them to adapt without offering sufficient support. Policy feels imposed rather than negotiated. The language of development often ignores the uneven capacity to comply. Corruption lingers in the background through the persistent gap between public need and policy outcome. The normalization of inconvenience becomes one of its most powerful effects. People begin to expect less and tolerate more. Discomfort becomes routine. Silence becomes easier than questioning.

Yet beneath that silence, there remains a shared awareness that something is deeply wrong. Each commute quietly reinforces that awareness. The jeep becomes more than transport. It becomes a moving space of social reality. Every passenger participates in a system they did not design yet must navigate. Every fare paid is also a form of consent shaped by necessity rather than choice. The call of jeepney drivers for fairness, subsidy, and genuine inclusion echoes far beyond their sector. It speaks to students, workers, families, and the elderly, who all rely on the same fragile network.

Their struggle is not separate. It is collective. To ignore it is to ignore our own conditions. The idea of progress must be questioned, not rejected but examined in terms of who benefits and who bears the cost. True modernization should ease burdens rather than redistribute them downward. It should expand access rather than restrict it. It should protect livelihoods while improving systems. It should recognize that transportation is not merely about vehicles but about people.

Dignity, safety, and affordability are not optional. They are fundamental requirements. The gap between promise and reality becomes most visible in these everyday experiences. The distance between home and destination reveals a deeper distance between policy and life. Commuting exposes the political nature of what is often dismissed as routine. Each trip becomes a reminder that systems are built and can therefore be changed.

Holding on inside a crowded jeep feels symbolic of holding on within a society that asks for endurance more than it offers support. Hawak mo ang jeep. Hindi lang ito pisikal na paghawak kundi isang kondisyon na pinagsasaluhan nating lahat.We are all gripping the same unstable structure. We are all hoping not just to arrive but to be heard. The future of commuting depends on whether people recognize their common stake in the issue. The voices of drivers and commuters must converge into a single demand for a system that is just, humane, and truly progressive. This experience may feel personal. It is undeniably political.

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Noel Galon de Leon is a writer and educator at the University of the Philippines Visayas, where he teaches in both the Division of Professional Education and UP High School in Iloilo. He serves as secretary of the National Commission for Culture and the Arts – National Committee on Literary Arts.