By Tessa R. Salazar
Another socioeconomic and political spectacle is raining down on us storm-drenched Pinoys, again dominating our airwaves and newsfeeds, group and family chats.
The subject, like always in this part of the developing world, is corruption, and how this has become like a metastatic cancer upon our society, culture, and economy, invading every conceivable agency of the government (and even the private sector). I don’t need to belabor here what you’ve already been seeing on your own. When people in power speak of unimaginable amounts being pocketed—amounts that should have gone to infrastructure that would keep us safe, but have instead been used to buy luxury cars, condos, and clothes—it either drives you mad or it numbs you. I’ve been feeling both these past few days; mad about the ostentatious display of greed of these contractors who diverted flood control money and instead flooded their garages with dozens of high-end cars, and numb about the entire government inquiry broadcast on live TV, knowing that this is all just for show (we should know, the issue of contractors colluding with politicos for billions of pesos in project money has been going on for years, yet they’re all scrambling to investigate just now? What a circus).
The few in power, and those who have access to power, appear to have benefited the most from our national coffers—coffers built upon the backs of hard-earned taxpayers’ money, while the ordinary taxpayer gets to see a spectacle live on TV and on his or her phone, tablet and laptop. We’ve paid taxes to watch a circus, and unfunny clowns become share-worthy memes.
I’m wondering if this is all just a distraction. One hand draws our attention, while the other hand does something else without us noticing.
Take, for instance, my own experience here in my village in Las Piñas. For weeks now, I have been monitoring roadworks being undertaken by the city government—the project entails fixing the drainage and widening the sidewalks. Nothing wrong about that, of course, until I observed the aftermath of these works.
From what has been completed so far, I’ve known of the toppling of at least one tree that was claimed to stand in the way of the project–a mature mango tree of a family friend a few houses back, to the dismay of the senior citizen—my friend’s mother—who lives in that house.
Today, the roadwork is about to begin in front of my house, and I fear that our tall Talisay will be next. That tree has been providing us shelter and protection from the elements for decades. It has also been a sturdy sanctuary for birds, bats and insects. A mini-ecosystem revolves around this tree. I told officials at our nearby barangay hall that our village trees are irreplaceable community assets. Their removal would constitute a clear violation of the environmental principles our laws aim to uphold. Still, I had been given no assurance that our tree, nor any other tree that stood in the way, would be spared from the digging and concreting about to happen.
Last week, I e-mailed a letter to the Department of Environment and Natural Resources and the Las Piñas Mayor’s office about this issue. To its credit, the DENR-Metropolitan Environmental Office (DENR-MEO) replied on the same day, stating that its Las Piñas office would dispatch a team to conduct an on-site inspection.
So far, I have not seen anyone from the DENR-MEO visiting the site. It would be more productive if they saw the site before any more trees fell, as opposed to them coming after. That way, they could facilitate a dialogue amongst us concerned village homeowners, the city government, and the project contractors to explore alternative engineering solutions that would allow the project to proceed without sacrificing invaluable natural resources. Solutions such as installing a tree well or slightly re-routing the sidewalk are common practices and should be considered.
The potential loss of our village trees is a matter of significant environmental concern and a direct contradiction of national law. Republic Act No. 3571 explicitly prohibits the “cutting, destroying, or injuring of planted or growing trees, flowering plants and shrubs or plants of scenic value along public roads.” A tree is not only of scenic value but also a vital part of our local ecosystem, providing shade, mitigating the urban heat island effect, and supporting local wildlife.
A DENR-MEO official also said that there are a couple of laws applicable here. For public areas, there is Presidential Decree No. 953, mandating the planting of trees in designated areas, penalizes unauthorized destruction of vegetation, and requires the reservation of open spaces in newly subdivided land, with violators facing imprisonment and fines. The comprehensive Presidential Decree No. 705, the Revised Forestry Code of the Philippines, establishes the Bureau of Forest Development and regulates the utilization and management of forest lands, with a focus on protecting forest resources and granting priority to timber license and pasture lease holders.
The sad part is that, after sidewalks are widened and paved in our area, and the construction crews leave, vehicles would then park on or beside the sidewalks, immediately defeating the purpose of the widening works. By then we’ll see pedestrians still walking on the roads because cars are parked on the sidewalk. In our case, as we are near the Barangay Hall, visitors and officials park their vehicles, trikes, motorcycles, and even e-trikes in front of residents’ gates and driveways, thereby blocking homeowners’ right of way in and out of their garages. Parked vehicles on the sidewalks also create blind spots for motorists, especially when these vehicles are parked too near around corners and bends.
Needless to say, the situation in front of my house has become quite tense and stressful. In order to unwind, I decided a few days ago to take a stroll and cross over to the more affluent BF Resort Village adjacent to our subdivision. To my dismay, I also found it quite difficult to walk on the sidewalks, even on the main road, as vehicles also parked on the sidewalks.
Then, I came across a 100-meter stretch of sidewalk that was completely landscaped, planted with Bermuda grass, shrubbery, and short trees, transforming the sidewalk as if it were part of the homeowner’s property, rendering it completely un-walkable. And just to make sure that no pedestrian trampled on the greens, the homeowner cordoned off the sidewalk and lined it with bollards. I looked at the 12-foot-tall brick wall wrapped in climbing vines, and a prominently placed signboard enumerating the many real estate projects of this very political, and very rich homeowner.
Perhaps this is the real sidewalk deception. While we’re distracted by the billion-peso circus show on TV, the powerful are quietly carving up and claiming the very ground beneath our feet, one patch of reclaimed sidewalk at a time.
I just had to say it like how the Pasig mayor does it, “Alam niyo na.”