The friction of poverty

In every corner of the Philippines, you’ll meet hardworking people who wake up before sunrise, commute for hours, work long shifts, then do it all again the next day – just to survive. And still, we call them “poor.”

But what if they’re not?

What if we’ve been looking at poverty the wrong way? What if the real problem isn’t that Filipinos lack drive or talent, but that they’re trapped in a system designed to slow them down?

The longer I’ve worked in transportation and mobility, the more I’ve realized: we are a country full of potential, but shackled by friction. And the biggest tragedy isn’t poverty – it’s stagnation. We’re not poor. We’re just stuck.

When we talk about poverty, we usually talk about income. But poverty is also measured in time, access and opportunity. Take transportation. A daily commute in Metro Manila can take three to four hours – one way. That’s almost a full working day lost each week just sitting in traffic. It’s time that could be spent with family, pursuing education or building a side hustle. Instead, it’s gone – stolen by congestion and poor planning.

Now imagine you live in a province, where there are no direct routes to the city, and the nearest job opportunity is two towns over. No bus, no train, no reliable connection. Your dream might as well be a hundred miles away – even if it’s just 20 kilometers. Mobility isn’t just about roads. It’s about removing barriers between a person and their aspirations.

One of the most frustrating things for many Filipinos isn’t just being left behind; it’s being kept out. You want to apply for a government permit? You need five signatures, a barangay clearance, a cedula, a day off work and the patience of a saint. You want to get a loan? You’re asked for collateral you don’t have and credit history you were never allowed to build. You want to start a small business? You’re drowned in bureaucracy before you even sell your first product.

These aren’t just inconveniences – they’re walls. Walls that keep the majority of our population from moving forward. It’s not that they’re not capable. They’re just blocked by design.

Let’s finally retire this myth: that the Filipino is poor because he’s lazy. Walk around any urban or rural area and observe what’s really happening. You’ll see mothers working double shifts, riders hustling in the rain, students walking kilometers to school and vendors carrying their entire store on their back. What we lack is not ambition. What we lack is support.

In countries with better transport systems, access to capital and streamlined government services, people thrive faster. They don’t have to be smarter or harder-working. They’re just not wasting half their energy fighting the system. Here, we celebrate resilience because we have no choice. But imagine if we built a country where people didn’t have to be superheroes just to survive.

If we’re serious about reducing poverty, we need to talk about friction points – and how to remove them. Motorcycles, for example, are not the problem. In fact, they’re the lifeline of many families. MC taxis, delivery riders, tricycle drivers – these people are doing their best to move the economy forward, yet the law often works against them. Formalizing this sector can open doors to insurance, financing, training and better safety standards.

We also need to rethink infrastructure planning. Why do we keep building flyovers and expressways while ignoring sidewalks, bike lanes and public transport? The most vulnerable commute daily on foot, on two wheels or on outdated jeeps. Infrastructure must serve the many, not the few.

Our government services must be digitized, especially for the masses. Paper-based processes are a tax on the poor. A simple license renewal can cost a day’s wage in lost time. Government must go digital – not just online, but truly accessible. Mobile-first. Language-friendly. Transparent.

Financial access is another hurdle. People in the informal sector often earn well, but lack access to capital, health insurance and retirement funds. With tech and proper regulation, we can bring these services to them without forcing formal employment. Financial inclusion is not about pushing people into a mold; it’s about meeting them where they are.

Above all, we need policies built around the real Filipino, not just statistics. Too often, policies are drafted in air-conditioned rooms by people who don’t ride motorcycles, take public transport or live paycheck to paycheck. It’s time we create laws grounded in lived experience, not just reports.

If we continue to measure economic success by GDP or investor confidence alone, we’ll miss the deeper story. The real economy is built on people – people who wake up every day and show up despite the odds. Poverty isn’t just a lack of income. It’s a lack of options. When people have choices – when they can choose how to work, where to live, how to get from point A to point B – then you begin to unlock real freedom. Real progress. It starts by making the system work for them, not against them.

I’ve met so many brilliant, passionate, capable Filipinos – riders, vendors, students, single parents – whose only mistake was being born in the wrong ZIP code or economic bracket. And yet they continue to push, to fight, to hope.

This is what makes me believe we are not a hopeless country. We are a hopeful people trapped in a system that hasn’t caught up to our grit.

Our mission now is simple: unstick the stuck. Cut the red tape. Build the roads. Recognize the riders. Digitize the government. Humanize the economy.

The Filipino doesn’t need pity. We just need a path.

And it’s our job to build it.