Alleviating Hunger during the Pandemic
A year ago, I was sweating, literally and figuratively, to get back to Toronto from Manila. Summer had started in the Philippines and I got caught in the lockdown after the pandemic was officially announced by the World Health Organization. The Ninoy Aquino International Airport where I was to depart was closed to commercial flights. So was the airport of the flag carrier PAL of the Philippines. There was an enhanced community quarantine, a strict lockdown, but I managed to step out every now and then because I wore around my neck a press ID which I presented in every checkpoint.
There was confusion and disbelief written in the faces of people I saw during my walks. The city stood still. There were hungry people I met with whom I shared some of the food I had with me in my small camera bag. On my way home, I’d be feeling so low over what I had seen during the day. I wondered how Torontonians were doing and I told myself that surely not like this.
One year later, I smile at what I’m reading about the Philippines. Former VP J. Binay said that community pantries are popping up in different neighbourhoods in an effort by Filipinos to look after one another. In a recent tweet, he said “The message behind the rise of community pantries is simple: when the government is absent, we can look after each other.”.
Implemented by Patricia Non in Maginhawa Street Quezon City, the idea of community pantry to help Filipinos struggling to put food on their table took off after the inaction of the government on her complaints about the pandemic. Taken from the concept of bayanihan wherein Filipinos help each other in times of need, community pantries started appearing in neighbourhoods. In a short period of time, the idea spread like wildfire to make up for the shortcomings of the government. In these community pantries, anyone can leave food in a cardboard marked area and, as well, take freely any of these goods.
In the US, before the vaccination roll outs, people lined up in places giving free food. Those with cars picked up boxes of canned goods, produce and other essential goods with volunteers stashing them in the back compartments of their cars without the motorists getting off. Contactless pickup. Hard to believe that a first world country was brought to its knees by COVID 19, yet such is life.
Here in Toronto, vans full of bags with food can be seen on weekends at Allan Gardens. Volunteers distribute them to the homeless and to anyone wanting them. While I can honestly say that no one gets hungry in this country of 37.59 million people, 5.9 million of whom are in the Greater Toronto Area, there are people who have lost their jobs, who worry if they can continue to stay in their dwellings, and who have dependents relying on them for their daily subsistence. Food banks and community food programs provide the safety net for these people.
On April 19, 2021, the Philippine local authorities ordered community pantries temporarily closed because, according to them, they are supported and advocated by Kilusang Mayo Uno and Piston which have been classified by the NFC-ELCAC as communist terrorist organizations. I found this to be an obstruction to the Filipinos’ desperate efforts to feed themselves and their loved ones at a time when they are most needy. It makes me ask a basic question: How can hunger be a political issue. Red-tagging of community pantries, thereafter, appeared in the social media network. The following day, April 20th, 2021, reacting to the onslaught of negative social media posts about the red-tagging, PNP spokesperson Brigadier General Ronaldo Olay said that they did not order any red-tagging to the local police units. The Quezon City Police District apologized profusely for its action and even went to the extent of describing the community pantries as a “noble cause especially in this time of pandemic”. This made me wonder, how far can the government push without the people pushing back. Cliche as this may be in the second year of the pandemic when jobs have been lost and may never be recovered and anxieties about subsistence have been the main preoccupation of Filipinos in the Greater Manila Area, the saying “We’re all in this soup together” has never been more pronounced now more than ever.