Manila has always been the Philippines’ spotlight. In the words of National Artist for Literature Nick Joaquin, “When Manila sneezes, the Philippines catches a cold.” With the city being the center of politics and home of popular culture, the radar for an urbanite snobbery signals loudly over the city.
Countless chances and significant opportunities are what starry-eyed probinsyanas see once they imagine their lives in Manila. Who could deny the powers of the country’s capital city? Certainly not me, a bright-eyed girl from Visayas who was innocent enough to believe that Metro Manila would easily hand me my dreams and wishes on a golden platter.
Having been born and raised in Bacolod, I was accustomed to fields of green and skies of blue. In the province, I never experienced three-hour traffic jams and migraine-induced days. It was a stress-free environment; so stress-free that it was lethargic sometimes. I arrived in Metro Manila with high hopes, but the city’s bittersweet truth slowly made itself apparent. Besides traffic jams and a polluted environment, society wasn’t exactly a bed of roses. With stereotypes such as “mukhang katulong” and “promdi,” a term that loosely correlates to “unsophisticated hick,” it dawned on me that while most probinsiyanas regarded Manilenyos with utmost respect and admiration, the feelings weren’t mutual. While I’ve had my share of personal quarrels related to this, the issue falls on a much wider spectrum.
Work by the double
At first sight, the difference between Manila and other provinces would simply be their environment: Manila, the concrete jungle, and the province, the simple life. Beyond that is the difference of culture. With Manila being the country’s capital, development continues to thrive within it, and non-Manileños continue to wait by the sides. This leads to the presence of an Imperial Manila, a term used to describe the phenomenon of Metro Manila being the center of all Philippine affairs which consequently pushes other provinces out of the picture.
The country’s centralized government also paves way for what seems to be a bias for the home team, providing little attention for provinces. In a 2015 report by the Philippine Statistics Authority on the country’s top 20 poorest provinces, the top 11 are in Mindanao and six are in Visayas.
The lingering internal colonialism of the Philippines is an issue that concerns our political and cultural structure. Manila isn’t the only cradle of Filipino lifestyle. Other provinces contribute just as much to our country, yet have a minimum wage of P380 at most (with regions like ARMM and Ilocos going as low as P240), while those in the city have a minimum wage of P475 to P512 stated by the National Wages and Productivity Commission as of October 2017. Hence, probinsiyanos are working double just to get a taste of the silver spoon Metro Manila is accustomed to.
Due to the centralized government located in Metro Manila, an uneven development occurs. As a result, minority groups, such as the Moros in Mindanao, continue to be the poorest in the country. Internal migration to urban centers, particularly Manila, becomes the usual solution for those in the provinces who want to advance economically. This also sends the message that progress is only abundant in Manila and mobility for other provinces stay stagnant.
While it’s easy to speak about the phenomenon of Imperial Manila, the real struggle also works as the solution–to listen, and to provide better opportunities for those outside Manila and in the fringes of society. Beyond our country’s capital city is an abundance of breathtaking and historically rich places. As much as each city and province trudges with their own struggles, each one also holds a culture unique from the others.
By mutual respect and appreciation, or by the government’s recognition of each area’s own uniqueness, it is time for us to step beyond the limits of internal colonialism and acclaim each province as equal to the capital.
This article was originally published in The Benildean Vol. 4 No. 1: Exploitation.
