Weaving meaning into loss

Sunday Inquirer Magazine/FEATURES/By Ma. Ceres P. Doyo

JOY and hope. These a mother continues to weave into the fabric of her life even after a loss that tore into her heart. She wears them like the bright shawls of silk that she fashions from nature's looms.

Rather than dwell in the abyss of grief and sorrow, Jean Margaret ?Jeannie? Lim Goulbourn decided to put meaning into her daughter?s life and death and, by so doing, help those who find themselves on the verge of a similar tragedy.

But it took time for her to gather strength and focus on something that would make sense of the tragedy that shook her family to the core. ?No one ever totally recovers from this,? Jeannie muses of her daughter?s death.

What makes the difference is this woman?s will to work it out and joyfully rise above it.

A former fashion model known for her distinct oriental look, Jeannie is also a noted fashion designer, entrepreneur (Silk Cocoon) and now a passionate health and nutrition advocate (Global Vital Source). She is wife to Canadian Sydney Goulbourn and mother of two beautiful and talented daughters, Katrina and Natasha. Close-knit and happy, the Goulbourns were not prepared for the pain that slammed into their life in 2002.

Jeannie recounts that Natasha, then suffering from depression, was being given a cocktail of medication by her doctor. The lethal dose ended her life on May 23, 2002 at the age of 27.

At the time of her death, Natasha had just finished working with an international fashion company in Hong Kong and was going into her own product line. There was a lot going for her. Her international education and travels had exposed her to enriching opportunities. She had a very supportive family.

"She and her sister Katrina were very close," Jeannie says. ?They were born 15 months apart. They were like twins."

Jeannie would rather not dwell on the details of Natasha?s passing, as per her daughter?s wishes communicated to her vicariously. The Goulbourns grieved Natasha's passing as a family but each one grieved in his/her own way. A mother?s pain of loss is like no other. Jeannie searched for answers. And, to her surprise and comfort, she found some. Natasha provided them, she adds.

"Several weeks after Natasha died, our family and close friends went back to Puerto Galera where we last spent a beautiful weekend together," Jeannie recalls. On their return trip to Batangas port, all Jeannie wanted was a sign that would tell her where Natasha was. Natasha loved dolphins so Jeannie asked to be shown dolphins, with their number signifying where her daughter was. They all got on a boat to scour the open seas.

Lo and behold, a pod of dolphins suddenly showed up. Not five, not 10, but more than a hundred of them jumping, dancing and prancing to the delight of everyone. Even the boatmen were amazed at what they saw, they had never witnessed anything like it, Jeannie recounts. "I knelt and grabbed my rosary and promised to serve the Lord in this mission through the Natasha Goulbourn Foundation."

There were other signs after that. Jeannie went to Hong Kong to visit Natasha's favorite haunts and as she was entering the lobby of the Hyatt hotel she heard strains of her daughter's favorite tunes being played as if on cue. "Moon River, March of the Siamese Children and Fur Elise," Jeannie recalls.

Later, Jeannie would receive an unusual gift from a friend that would lead her to a medium based in London through whom, she says, Natasha communicated with her. "Natasha said she owed Peter, her flatmate in Hong Kong, two weeks' rent and that I should pay him." How the medium could have known that, Jeannie could only wonder. "Through another medium she told me I would save five lives. And through the help of Dr. Rene Yat, I did!"

Jeannie can now bravely look back and share her observations. "I remember Natasha was not sleeping well and was losing weight. But she seemed happy and was very focused on her work. Or maybe she was a very good actress. Then she broke up with her boyfriend."

Jeannie describes Natasha as happy, gregarious and friendly. "Then I observed how her personality changed after she started taking medication. We had her see a psychiatrist who gave her anti-depressants. She did tell us that there was something about the medication, that she felt funny and lightheaded. Her perception of reality changed. She had mood swings, she avoided crowds." These were warning signs.

Three months later, Natasha was gone. "It was a case of wrong medication and overmedication," Jeannie says firmly. "Through the medium, Natasha said she does not remember how it happened and that we should not sue the doctor. But how many lives under his care had been lost? A year and a half later, the doctor took his own life."

Jeannie insists that anti-depressant drugs should carry strong warnings. "In America, there is a warning on the package and in ads, saying that anti-depressants increase the risk of suicidal thoughts and behavior. Patients need heavy monitoring." She strongly suggests that a patient taking such drugs should have notarized written instructions for responsible persons to take over when the patient is not in a proper mental state.

"According to statistics, less than 30 percent of those taking anti-depressants get better, but a local psychiatrist admitted that it could only be 10 percent effective. In the end, talk therapy and family support are most helpful."

Jeannie is not totally anti-medication, but she is becoming increasingly biased for proper nutrition and exercise to enhance one?s physical and mental state. These she advocates through her wellness company. "There are new accepted modalities such as hypnosis, acupuncture and energy healing," she informs.

In 2007, the Goulbourn family set up the Natasha Goulbourn Foundation (NGF), whose chief aim is "bringing depression to light.? NGF aims ?to share with the world the need for education and information on depression" what it is, what causes it, how to manage it and how to heal from it.? Depression can be treated and those afflicted must seek the correct help. Suicide, NGF strongly reminds, should not be an option.

NGF has linked up with UGAT, In Touch Community Services and Dial-a-Friend, that provide hotlines for those seeking help.

"Depression is highly treatable and curable," Jeannie says. "It is not insanity. We must remove the stigma." She wants to see NGF reach out to corporations, schools, communities, OFWs and their families. "We have a team of lecturers who can speak on wholeness, on how to achieve spiritual, emotional and physical well-being."

Jeannie adds: "Scientists have discovered that hormone-enhanced meat, vegetables sprayed with pesticides and chemical fertilizers are some factors that cause chemical imbalance in the brain."

In this season of remembering, Jeannie?s thoughts constantly turn to Natasha. ?My faith was shaken. This girl had a lot of dreams for the poor, the sick and the aged. She had a clear purpose. How could we allow these to go to waste? But there is a reason for everything. Natasha was really on loan to us, and she had a purpose."#

Very low fertility in Asia: A Study

Philippine Daily Inquirer/OPINION/by Ma. Ceres P. Doyo

WHILE THERE is an urgent need and reason to manage the Philippines’ galloping population increase in relation to the country’s economic ability/inability to provide quality life for the teeming millions who live in penury, there is also reason to pause a while and look at what is happening to our wealthy Asian neighbors.

The current issues on reproductive health and population control have triggered acrimonious debates between the pro- and the anti-RH bill, between the Church hierarchy and the sponsors of the bill and among citizens of various persuasions and religious beliefs. The arguments from different sides have been exhausted and presented. What is ahead for us?

A recent study on fertility problems in Asia released by the East-West Center is worth looking into. The study, “Very Low Fertility in Asia: Is There a Problem? Can It Be Solved?” was done by Sidney B. Westley, Minja Kim Choe and Robert D. Retherford and released a few months ago.

The East-West Center is a US-based “independent, non-profit organization with funding from the US government and additional support from private agencies, individuals, corporations and governments in the (Asia-Pacific) region.” Founded 50 years ago in 1960, the center is on the University of Hawaii campus in Honolulu. Hundreds of Filipinos have passed through its portals. (I was an East-West Center journalism fellow.)

The summary of the study on fertility says: “Fifty years ago, women in Asia were having, on average, more than five children each, and there was widespread fear of a ‘population explosion’ in the region. Then the birth rates began to fall—in several countries more steeply than anyone had anticipated. This unexpected trend has now raised concerns about the social and economic impact of extremely low fertility.

“Today, four of Asia’s most prosperous economies—Japan, Singapore, South Korea and Taiwan—have among the lowest birth rates in the world. With women having, on average, only one child each, these societies have expanding elderly populations and a shrinking workforce to pay for social services and drive economic growth.”

The study asks: Why are women choosing to have so few children? How are policymakers responding to these trends? What is the effect of government efforts to encourage marriage and childbearing?

I quote the stark prediction: “Given current social and economic trends, it is unlikely that Asia’s steep fertility decline will be reversed, at least not in the foreseeable future.”

Just a little note: “Fertility decline” almost sounds as if the women in those countries suddenly became infertile because of some clinical maladies triggered by a nuclear fall-out, a deadly epidemic, computer radiation or something. What the study simply means is that women (men should be faulted as well) choose not to bear children or bear only so few. This is not about clogged fallopian tubes or low sperm count.

As a Filipino, my reflex reaction would be to say that given our own unabated population increase, we could easily supply these “infertile” countries with man/womanpower. In fact, we are already doing that. Not because we are concerned about their vanishing population but because Filipinos continue to populate the earth with wild abandon and need to survive.

A couple of years ago, while visiting a paradisiacal island, I met a retired Peace Corps volunteer who married a local woman, bore children with her and set up a thriving diving facility. When I asked him what the locals’ main preoccupation was, he laughed and gave a straightforward answer: “Making babies.”

Demographers, according to the East-West study, agree that fertility tends to decline with economic growth, adding that the link between economic growth and fertility decline has health and education components. Improved standards of living bring assurance of the offspring’s survival and there is no need to have “extra” kids just in case.

With better education and job opportunities, many become economically independent at an early age and prefer to stay in their jobs without the burden of large families. Young women postpone marriage and childbearing or avoid them all together. And so forth and so on.

Comparing data from different eras, the study shows that by 2006, the total fertility rate (TFR) in Japan, South Korea, Singapore and Taiwan (and several European countries) had fallen to levels rarely seen in human history. The researchers are seeing a worrisome scenario and say that while demographers anticipated that couples would tend to have fewer children as they became more affluent, they did not foresee that fertility would eventually fall to well below replacement levels.

Well below replacement levels. In concrete, what does that mean? The study says that it could lead to age imbalance in a population. The number of older folks born when fertility was high would become a large proportion of the total.

A figure shows that in those four countries, the percentage of the total population in the 65 plus age group is projected to rise steeply, reaching one-third or more of the total by 2050. This trend is already seen in Japan.

Policymakers, the study notes, are finding that it is more difficult and costly to raise fertility than to lower it. This is an irony that would not be lost on Filipinos. The study says: “Programs aimed at lowering fertility can be highly cost effective because family planning technology is relatively inexpensive and because economic and social development tends to lower fertility even in the absence of government programs. Japan is a good example. There, fertility declined to well below replacement levels without any government family-planning program at all.”

As we worry about our runaway population growth, should we also start worrying about a future steep decline?

Very low fertility in Asia: A Study

Philippine Daily Inquirer/OPINION/by Ma. Ceres P. Doyo

WHILE THERE is an urgent need and reason to manage the Philippines’ galloping population increase in relation to the country’s economic ability/inability to provide quality life for the teeming millions who live in penury, there is also reason to pause a while and look at what is happening to our wealthy Asian neighbors.

The current issues on reproductive health and population control have triggered acrimonious debates between the pro- and the anti-RH bill, between the Church hierarchy and the sponsors of the bill and among citizens of various persuasions and religious beliefs. The arguments from different sides have been exhausted and presented. What is ahead for us?

A recent study on fertility problems in Asia released by the East-West Center is worth looking into. The study, “Very Low Fertility in Asia: Is There a Problem? Can It Be Solved?” was done by Sidney B. Westley, Minja Kim Choe and Robert D. Retherford and released a few months ago.

The East-West Center is a US-based “independent, non-profit organization with funding from the US government and additional support from private agencies, individuals, corporations and governments in the (Asia-Pacific) region.” Founded 50 years ago in 1960, the center is on the University of Hawaii campus in Honolulu. Hundreds of Filipinos have passed through its portals. (I was an East-West Center journalism fellow.)

The summary of the study on fertility says: “Fifty years ago, women in Asia were having, on average, more than five children each, and there was widespread fear of a ‘population explosion’ in the region. Then the birth rates began to fall—in several countries more steeply than anyone had anticipated. This unexpected trend has now raised concerns about the social and economic impact of extremely low fertility.

“Today, four of Asia’s most prosperous economies—Japan, Singapore, South Korea and Taiwan—have among the lowest birth rates in the world. With women having, on average, only one child each, these societies have expanding elderly populations and a shrinking workforce to pay for social services and drive economic growth.”

The study asks: Why are women choosing to have so few children? How are policymakers responding to these trends? What is the effect of government efforts to encourage marriage and childbearing?

I quote the stark prediction: “Given current social and economic trends, it is unlikely that Asia’s steep fertility decline will be reversed, at least not in the foreseeable future.”

Just a little note: “Fertility decline” almost sounds as if the women in those countries suddenly became infertile because of some clinical maladies triggered by a nuclear fall-out, a deadly epidemic, computer radiation or something. What the study simply means is that women (men should be faulted as well) choose not to bear children or bear only so few. This is not about clogged fallopian tubes or low sperm count.

As a Filipino, my reflex reaction would be to say that given our own unabated population increase, we could easily supply these “infertile” countries with man/womanpower. In fact, we are already doing that. Not because we are concerned about their vanishing population but because Filipinos continue to populate the earth with wild abandon and need to survive.

A couple of years ago, while visiting a paradisiacal island, I met a retired Peace Corps volunteer who married a local woman, bore children with her and set up a thriving diving facility. When I asked him what the locals’ main preoccupation was, he laughed and gave a straightforward answer: “Making babies.”

Demographers, according to the East-West study, agree that fertility tends to decline with economic growth, adding that the link between economic growth and fertility decline has health and education components. Improved standards of living bring assurance of the offspring’s survival and there is no need to have “extra” kids just in case.

With better education and job opportunities, many become economically independent at an early age and prefer to stay in their jobs without the burden of large families. Young women postpone marriage and childbearing or avoid them all together. And so forth and so on.

Comparing data from different eras, the study shows that by 2006, the total fertility rate (TFR) in Japan, South Korea, Singapore and Taiwan (and several European countries) had fallen to levels rarely seen in human history. The researchers are seeing a worrisome scenario and say that while demographers anticipated that couples would tend to have fewer children as they became more affluent, they did not foresee that fertility would eventually fall to well below replacement levels.

Well below replacement levels. In concrete, what does that mean? The study says that it could lead to age imbalance in a population. The number of older folks born when fertility was high would become a large proportion of the total.

A figure shows that in those four countries, the percentage of the total population in the 65 plus age group is projected to rise steeply, reaching one-third or more of the total by 2050. This trend is already seen in Japan.

Policymakers, the study notes, are finding that it is more difficult and costly to raise fertility than to lower it. This is an irony that would not be lost on Filipinos. The study says: “Programs aimed at lowering fertility can be highly cost effective because family planning technology is relatively inexpensive and because economic and social development tends to lower fertility even in the absence of government programs. Japan is a good example. There, fertility declined to well below replacement levels without any government family-planning program at all.”

As we worry about our runaway population growth, should we also start worrying about a future steep decline?

The sex life of the urban poor (2)

Philippine Daily Inquirer/OPINION/by Ma. Ceres P. Doyo

I DIDN’T expect lots of e-mail for a feature story I wrote 20 years ago and which I recycled and compressed for this column (last week and now) in the context of the ongoing recycled debate on reproductive health.

Those who want to read my entire magazine piece (“Just a few meters of loving space,” Sunday Inquirer Magazine, Nov. 26, 1990) from which this column piece was recycled could go to my blogsite. I will post it there. It’s also in my book “Journalist in Her Country” which is out of print. I went over the entire piece and realized it would need to be serialized in three columns. But as I said last week, two columns and no more. I also removed some graphic scenes. Deleted portions include sociological observations by professor Michael Tan (before he became an Inquirer columnist).

(Continued from last week)


Carlito Martes, 38, and wife Teresita, 37, have been married 18 years. They have six children, aged 18 to 2. Laking Maynila, the couple started married life with an elopement. They now live in the Leveriza slums. Carlito works as a mason, Teresita as a laundry woman. She is a member of Alay Kapwa, a community cooperative.

The family’s abode, 20 square meters, hardly gives anyone privacy. And with so many children around, the couple had to make a “papag” practically in mid-air, a “mezzanine” that functioned as their bed. For some reason, that “papag” had to be removed. “Walang papag, dieta,” quips Carlito, adding that sometimes they forget to have sex. “Nakakalimutan na rin.” Once a month is how regular it is and because there’s no more papag they have to have sex in a rush—“baka may magising.” When he’s had some drinks, then “doon ko lang ginagalaw.” Because there’s hardly enough space, fancy positions are out. “Pang-prostitute lang daw yun,” Teresita quotes Carlito.

“I used an IUD (intraurine device) for nine years,” Teresita reveals. But twice she had infections because of it. She resorted to the pill, but after experiencing dizzy spells she stopped taking it. After nine years she gave birth again—to twins.

“We’ve never had a time to go out and be by ourselves,” complains Teresita.

“Mabubuhay ka ba ng puro ganun,” Maria Cabello repeatedly points her finger downward, “kung ang tiyan ay kukulo-kulo?” Maria is a full-time housewife while her husband Diosdado is a photographer at the Manila Zoo. He charges P20 per shot, P10 of which goes to him, the other P10 to the laboratory men. The Cabellos, both in their late 30s, have four children aged 16 to 11. The couple did not finish high school.

The Cabello home is small, but it is neat and clean compared to their neighbors’. They have some space and a few trees around them. Maria and Diosdado also have a little private corner to themselves.

Because the couple could not afford more children, Maria took the pill, but after some time she developed cysts and bleeding. She switched to injections and bled every week. Vasectomy was out of the question as the Cabellos erroneously believe it is hazardous to health. The ever-sacrificing wife says, “Hindi na baleng ako ang magkadeperensiya, huwag lang ang mister ko.” The couple has, since then, being using the rhythm or the withdrawal method.

“Paghindi siya napagbigyan sa gabi, maniningil sa araw,” says Maria of her husband. “Pagkakataon naman, e,” Diosdado would insist especially when the children are not around. At night, the couple has to wait for the children to be fast asleep.

Sometimes, Maria says, their bodies are just too tired for anything. “Patay na ang katawan sa kakatrabaho.” But when Diosdado makes kalabit and Maria is not up to it, she psyches herself up so she can enjoy sex too. They are always ready for their private moments to be disturbed. “Lagi kang handa baka may magbukas ng ilaw. It really all depends on the mood. Thirty minutes is long enough.”

Over in Ermita where many squatters live, a pregnancy counseling center has been put up by pro-lifers who promote natural family planning (NFP). (The center gives counseling services to pregnant women with problems as well as to those who want to know more about birth control options, be they artificial or natural.)

May Belgica, NFP trainor, has invited two women from the Adriatico slums to share something about their sex life. The women, Fe A. and Vicenta B., are in their 30s. Fe is heavy with her third child while Vicenta has an only daughter who’s entering her teens. Fe and Vicenta are used to talking openly about their sex lives because they’ve had many discussions about sex, anatomy and family planning with many other women in their community. Vicenta is, in fact, an NFP counselor.

“Oh, they talk about their orgasms quite openly in group discussions,” says Sister Pilar Versoza, a Good Shepherd nun who also works at the center. “Some of them would even admit that they’ve never had one in all their many years of married life.” But thanks to women’s talakayan many women have become more familiar with their bodies and their needs….

In slum areas there is very little that people can hide from one another. The walls have ears, the walls have holes. (Incidentally, there was this billboard in Quiapo which advertised a movie “May Butas sa Dingding.”) Sometimes when there are community meetings during daytime and it takes long for some people to get out of their lean-tos, a leader would yell from the street, “Hoy, bunutin muna niyo yan!” A flustered couple would come out and find themselves being ribbed with, “Baun na baun ba?” followed by lusty laughter. Among the poor, sex, like hunger, is part of their common everyday lot.

The sex life of the urban poor (1)

Philippine Daily Inquirer/OPINION/by Ma. Ceres P. Doyo

TWO DECADES ago, I did a feature story for the Sunday Inquirer Magazine on the sex life of the urban poor, titled “A few meters of loving space.” It was based on my interviews with couples living in blighted, depressed areas of Manila. The story was illustrated by Inquirer cartoonist Jess Abrera (done in semi-abstract, okay?).

There was a debate at that time on family planning methods and reproductive health. Today, several millions of babies later, the debate rages again. In this context, I bring out compressed excerpts (for just two columns instead of three) from that feature for your enlightenment, if not for your entertainment:

When I asked her how couples can be intimate in such a congested setting, the woman gave out a throaty laugh. “Ah, wala nang pa-tumbling-tumbling pa. Deretso na kaagad para makaraos.” She sounded almost casual.

“You know,” she added, “you are the second person to ask me that. The first one was a Belgian woman who came to see how we lived.”

After she had unraveled her personal life, we talked about urban congestion and its effects on people. Of course I had to inquire about the slum dwellers’ private lives but only after we had discussed their food and wages, their dilapidated homes, their religious faith and political views, their coping abilities, even their toilet habits.

Some nights, the woman said, when every single one in her multi-family household was at home, their two-story patchwork structure would be packed to the corners with steaming horizontal bodies in deep slumber. In the heat of the night, when she lay awake, she would feel movements and hear muted sounds. “Alam ko na kung ano yun. Naiintindihan ko,” she said rather solemnly.

Studies on people’s sex life have become commonplace but most of them, it seems, are conducted among the middle and upper classes. The studies’ results are published in expensive publications for these same classes to lap up, for they see in these glossies a reflection of their bedroom lives, their fatal attractions, their forbidden romances, even their gynecology.

Who cares what the poor do? The way the idea of sex has been glamorously and expensively packaged (as in the glossy girlie mags, the ads, the movies), it is as if only the haves make love while the have-nots merely copulate. Sex and the poor are oftentimes discussed only in the context of prostitution, child abuse and such worries as population explosion. But despite the constraints of space, time and privacy, the poor also generally live normal and vigorous sex lives. Whatever quirks and pathologies they have could not be any worse than those of their well-to-do counterparts.

I tried to find research literature on the poor’s sexual habits or something closely related to the topic but there was none, so I decided to go down to the slums and ask around. What at first I thought would be a voyeuristic undertaking yielded no-holds-barred discussions with very open and articulate interviewees. No euphemisms—they call a spade a spade, a penis a penis.

The first and last time Joel and Yolanda Lapena had a very private moment to themselves was when they attended, with some other poor couples, a three-day marriage encounter seminar in Taytay a few years ago on the invitation of a nun. The encounter, the Lapena couple says, was “honeymoon talaga.” But more important to them was that they had time to talk intimately to each other. “We even wrote letters to each other,” a beaming Yolanda reports. A non-physical dimension and a spiritual communion with each other were, to them, new and exhilarating.

Married for almost 15 years, the 34-year-old Lapenas have six children aged 14 to eight (that means one baby every year). “Sa bunso na kami kinasal,” reveals Yolanda who adds that they were married in mass wedding rites sponsored by civic groups.

Joel works as a taxi washer while Yolanda has her hands full just taking care of the family. Joel earns P20 for every taxi he washes. On a good day he can earn P100. Home to the family is the second floor of a creaky house squeezed between two rundown structures in the Malate slums. The place, measuring about five by 15 feet is divided by a curtain. At night the couple, the six children and several in-laws sleep in this cramped space. There is only one bed, so the rest have to sleep on the floor.

So how and when did Joel and Yolanda make those six children? “Panakaw-nakaw lang pag-walang tao,” says Joel. Never at night. “Mabilisan lang. Pag umakyat ang mga bata napipigilan pa.” Even in the daytime, there is no way the couple can hide if someone happens to climb the ladder and enter the narrow door. So husband and wife are always on their guard and have their outer garments on just in case. “Wala nang romansa-romansa, basta makaraos lang, pero hindi naman bitin. Nerbiyos lang ho yung madalian. Pagkatapos wala nang paguusap. Tayo kaagad.” They can hear the children playing downstairs.

Yolanda admits to being so fertile. “Mahagisan lang daw ng briefs o malakdawan buntis na.” Several times she tried the pill but she developed rashes and had difficulty breathing. Although Joel worried about her, he never considered vasectomy. So after the sixth child Yolanda had a tubal ligation. It has been sex without worry twice weekly since then, she says.

“Maligo ka na,” is Joel’s way of inviting his wife. She has never been one to ask for it, Yolanda admits. “Minulat kaming malayo sa lalaki,” she reasons.

(To be continued)

From vulnerability to empowerment

Philippine Daily Inquirer/OPINION/by Ma. Ceres P. Doyo

BEING A storyteller myself, I read with interest the stories told by individuals who were witnesses to and participants in the transformation of communities. Ten little stories, but each of them spoke of hope despite seeming hopelessness, of how people could exceed the limits and go beyond limitations because they believed in themselves and their dreams.

Clueless, frustrated or despondent local government officials could take a cue or two from these community experiences. But I am getting ahead of the story.

A few days ago the World Bank (WB) Group in the Philippines held a Forum on Community-Driven Development where it announced the approval of $59.1 million additional financing for community-driven development projects in the Philippines. This amount will expand the Kapit-bisig Laban sa Kahirapan-Comprehensive and Integrated Delivery of Social Services (Kalahi-Cidss) projects. Kalahi-Cidss empowers local communities in targeted poor areas to achieve improved access to basic public services and to participate in more inclusive local planning and budgeting.

Kalahi-Cidss has been implemented by the Department of Social Welfare and Development (DSWD) since 2002 and, according to a WB report, has benefited 1.1 million households in 4,229 barangays in the country’s poorest provinces. Social Welfare Secretary Dinky Soliman who spoke at the forum had only good words for Kalahi-Cidss which she had been involved in even during her previous incarnation as secretary, that is, in a past administration.

Said Soliman: “When local residents come together to discuss their own problems and find solutions to these common challenges, programs and projects are sustained and implemented effectively and in the most transparent manner.” Note the word transparent.

I have been to several Kalahi-Cidss projects in the National Capital Region and Samar and I have seen for myself how even just a few kilometers of road to connect a village to the market could transform a remote community and individual families.

“Empowering the Poor: The Kalahi-Cidss Community-Driven Development Project” is a handsome square booklet of 10 stories (two pages for a project story) and also a “toolkit of concepts and cases.” The against-all-odds stories (based on Dennis Arroyo’s field interviews) are indeed inspiring.

And because I judge a book also by its cover, design and lay-out, I must congratulate the WB team that produced the booklet. I felt good seeing the simple stories of poor and almost forgotten but determined people made to come to life on good-quality paper with elegant design (by B+C Design). (I have a fetish for beautiful books.)

Each project story in the booklet has an accompanying side bar which gives the location, the problem, the project, the cost and the grant from Kalahi and the local counterpart in percentages. The local counterpart is a challenge in itself and it taps into the people’s latent talent and generosity.

One story is told by a pastor who works in a remote community where mountain roads used to be so narrow people had to walk on them sideways lest they fall, and one at a time.

“That all changed when we built our Kalahi road,” the pastor narrates. “It opened vast opportunities for our tribe, the B’laan, long isolated in the mountains of Saranggani Province… Our farming incomes weren’t much, most of us earned less than P1,000 a month.

“At the start we were intimidated by the 16-step process—so many assemblies. To attend them, men would start hiking from their homes at 3 a.m. to reach the village hall at 8 a.m. Then later we realized that the road was not a government project. It was our project. And the real project was not the road but our empowerment.”

His postscript: “Old habits die hard. Even though the new road is six meters wide, some people still walk on it single-file out of sheer habit.”

And there is a story, told by a community volunteer in Davao del Norte, about the community’s 20-year-old dream of having a corn mill of their own. “Once our village was chosen to go ahead with the corn mill … there was so much to learn about proposing projects and keeping accounts. I had only gone up to third grade… But I did all right.

“The mill has been running for about 10 months now, and we can already see a big difference in our lives. We now have corn bran from the mill that we can feed to our animals. They are now fatter and healthier, so we get better prices for them.

“The mill itself is running well. It started out charging cheaper than in town, but eventually we decided to raise the price so that the extra money

could be used to buy a sheller and drier … and make more and higher quality corn meal. Even if we didn’t know much about managing a project before, we were forced to learn.”

A housewife from Dolores, Quezon, speaks about how her once-vulnerable village was spared from the recent devastating floods: “In my corner of Quezon, our flood control dam held up against the rush of water. We had built a truly solid wall, thanks to the Kalahi. We chose the wall because … our village is right at the foot of Mount Banahaw, and water would roar down the slopes during storms and flood our area.

“We installed pipes and used a barrier mix of boulders, stones and cement… I’m proud to say that labor was 100 percent free. The work was monetized, but the amount was used to buy food for the villagers while they worked. Everyone helped, including the children who collected stones.

“The project changed me as well. I thought I was a housewife who did not have much to offer. But with Kalahi, I got into the action.”

Empowering, indeed.