TODAY'S URBAN poor number some 20 million or nearly a fourth of the country's total population, says KADAMAY. Republic Act 7279, or the Urban Development and Housing Act of 1992, officially defines the urban poor as those who reside in urban and "urbanizable" areas who have no houses and who live on the poverty threshold. Additionally, NGOs see the absence of security of housing tenure as a defining characteristic of the urban poor.

	NANAY MAMENG Photo by Lilen Uy

Around Manila alone, about 3.4 million people live in slums, says the Asian Development Bank. The number is higher in all of Metro Manila as wave upon wave of rural folk flee the travails of rural poverty as well as armed conflicts. With no government intervention to check this exodus, migrants set up house wherever and whenever they can — in already congested shantytowns, beneath bridges and flyovers, along railroad tracks and riversides, and on dumpsites, where they make a life scavenging through mountains of trash.

"It didn't use to be like this," recalls Nanay Mameng. "The poor like us, somehow we were able to survive with the little we had. You could still ask for a cup of vinegar, a clump of matchsticks, or some pieces of ginger. But now, a piece of ginger costs P5 to P10, beyond the everyday reach of ordinary people."

"I had hoped that once Marcos left, the changes I sought would happen, finally. But nothing has happened," she rues. "Leaders have been replaced but the system has not changed. They give a different name to every administration, but it's still the same old rotten, corrupt system. They make laws that only serve their own interests. The poor have no place of real importance."

"When I saw the policies of Cory, I regretted being part of Edsa 1," she says. "She's a woman who could have set things right and followed her heart to serve the people well. But she just followed foreign dictates, and let the old corrupt system prevail." Nanay Mameng cites the case of the Cojuangco-owned Hacienda Luisita, which she says should have been given immediately to the tillers of the land but was kept intact for the benefit of former President Aquino's clan.

She knows her current street militancy has put her life in danger. Last year, two KADAMAY leaders and 13 Anakpawis organizers were slain. Since 2001, more than 200 activists identified with left-leaning groups have died. Activists blame the killings on the military's practice of labeling advocates for justice and the poor as subversives.

Nanay Mameng herself recounts how a man claiming to be a reporter once accosted her while she was waiting for a colleague in a snack bar. The man wanted to take her away for an "interview." But he couldn't produce any identification so she scurried away. She later saw him enter a car that had other burly men in it.

"The way activists are being killed today reminds me of the days under martial law, or even during the Second World War when, as a young girl, I saw how people suffered and were violated with impunity," she notes. But she refuses to go around with a companion for protection, arguing, "What if something happens to my companion just because of me?"

For now, what's most important to Nanay Mameng is the next rally and to oust a president whom she believes cheated her way into office and betrayed the people with unfulfilled promises. "If it's possible," she says, "I want another Edsa to take place now. And all must join in. This is what I tell everyone who asks why Gloria still has not resigned. How can you make her step down when many turn their backs on protests and only a few are fighting back?"

She bristles at the idea that people have become weary of protesting, that maybe it's time to stop. "I don't know about the others," she says."But me, I'm not tired of fighting. I'll keep on going until I see concrete changes and progress in the life of our people." With all the verve that her emaciated body can muster, she exclaims, "So long as I'm still alive, so long as there's blood running in my veins, so long as I can still walk, to stand up, I won't give up. I will only stop if I'm already inside a box."

The words are full of dramatic flourish. But coming from a street-protest veteran in her sunset years, they ring with desperate hope for a world that she may never see. — Fides Lim