Sampaloc, Manila was once filled with honking jeepney drivers, but it became a ghost town when President Rodrigo Duterte placed the whole National Capital Region in enhanced community quarantine (ECQ) last March 2020.

People were barred from leaving their homes including public utility jeepney (PUJ) drivers whose source of income solely relied on driving around the vicinity.

Almost 70,000 PUJ drivers from the Metro lost their source of income in a snap because of the coronavirus outbreak. This included Victor, 57, a driver from the Baclaran-Dapitan route.

For him, the lockdown meant “no profit” because almost everyone was not allowed to go out.

Being a jeepney driver since 1991, he was able to send his two children to school. One is now a nurse at a hospital in Quezon City, while the other works as a domestic helper in the Middle East.

They helped him to get by during the lockdown.

“Malaking bagay na may anak kang nakatapos, may nakakatulong ka sa panggastos. Hindi katulad sa iba na walang anak na nakatapos, iyon talaga ang pinaka mahirap sa lahat,” he said.

While he was fortunate, some had it worse. Many PUJ drivers resorted to begging on the streets—the same streets where they used to drive their jeeps.

Carrying plastic containers and cardboard signs around their necks, drivers begged for alms just to make ends meet.

Victor recalled that some of his colleagues used their jeeps as their homes because they did not have enough money to pay rent.

“Tuwing gabi, makikita mo dito [at Laong Laan terminal], ang dami. Tulog na mga driver kasama iyong mga pamilya nila, iyong mga anak ang liliit pa,” he said.

The lockdown, which was supposed to last only a month, was extended and extended until drivers began to lose hope of plying on their routes again.

Ayuda controversy

During ECQ, the Land Transportation Franchising and Regulation Board (LTFRB) promised to give out cash assistance to the affected transport workers but some claimed that they did not receive anything.

According to Victor, the only subsidy that he received was from the Manila Local Government Unit (LGU).

“Eight thousand ang binigay ng barangay namin. Pero sa LTFRB, wala talaga,” he said.

This was echoed by his co-jeepney driver, Ramon: “Kahit nga bigas, wala kaming natanggap mula sa kanila.”

Aside from the local government aid, the drivers from the Baclaran-Dapitan route also looked forward to food assistance from some non-governmental organizations.

But they said that such assistance did not always reach them because the jeep associations in their area were “barring” it.

“Yung mga pinapamigay nila, mas malaki pa iyong naiuuwi nila,” Ramon said.

“Sila-sila lang din kumikita diyan. Tuwing may nagpapadala, masuwerte na kung maabutan kami ng isang kilong bigas,” he added.

The lockdown was already hard for the drivers, but it grew worse because of associations taking advantage of the already poor situation.

“Ang dami ng naging asosasyon dito, pero walang nag tuloy-tuloy… lagi kasing ganyan,” said by Ramon, a driver for 42 years.

“Kaya nga lagi akong nagdarasal noon na makapasada na ulit. Pinapatay lang kami ng mga asosasyon dito eh,” he added.

Killing the traditional

When Metro Manila shifted to General Community Quarantine in June 2020, Victor and Ramon regained hope that they could ply on their route again.

But their spirits fell short when former spokesperson Harry Roque said that allowing traditional jeep drivers on the road again was “out of question.”

Only modernized jeeps were allowed to resume operations while its older counterparts were still barred from the road. It was a way to push for their phaseout, traditional drivers said.

“Pero walang problema sa amin ang phaseout, basta iyong ipapalit nila ay yung medyo mura-mura naman,” Ramon clarified.

Even before the pandemic started, talks of modernizing jeeps had already been proposed. The Department of Transportation said that it will “improve and strengthen the public transport sector.”

But a modern jeep costs around P2 million, which is a huge amount for drivers who did not have any income for the last few months.

“Nag rally nga kami eh kasi siyempre, hindi kami payag na sila lang ang makakapasada,” Victor said.

Fortunately, the woes of traditional jeepney drivers from Manila had been heard. Before 2020 ended, 70% of traditional jeepneys in the capital were allowed to return to the road.

Stricter protocols

Victor and Ramon were among the first few drivers who got back on their route, but they said that it was not that easy.

“Kailangan ng mga plastic. Hindi pa nga nakakapasada, napagastos na agad,” Victor said, talking about the “ineffective” mandatory plastic barriers.

Before they could return to normal operations, drivers were required to install plastic barriers to ensure physical distance among passengers.

“Sabi nila para daw ‘di magka-COVID, eh ang dami pa din namang may COVID!” Victor said.

A one seat apart policy was also implemented, reducing the passenger’s load to half of the vehicle’s capacity.

Although they incurred some losses, the drivers said it was better than having no profit at all. Their P1,000 average daily profit before the pandemic became a challenge to earn within a week during the lockdown.

They were already lucky if they could earn P200 to P300 each day, Victor recalled.

“Wala ka talagang maitatabi, tamang-tama lang pang kain,” Ramon seconded.

Only a few drivers risked going back on operations because a more or less P300 daily profit was not enough, especially if you still do not own the jeep, they said.

Running in circles

Now that the government is easing the coronavirus restrictions, more jeepneys began plying their routes again. But the king of the road faces a new problem.

Although the Russian invasion of Ukraine is oceans away from the Philippines, drivers can still feel its effect while driving their jeepneys.

“Mas madami ngang sakay, sa krudo lang naman napupunta ang kita,” Victor said.

Drivers have been sighing deep in desperation as oil prices continued to increase each week. Although they are now earning P500 to P600 a day, it is still not enough.

“Talong-talo talaga. Kaya dapat makarami ng ikot at madaming maisakay,” said Ramon, who does five to six round trips everyday.

He also said some drivers started sleeping on their jeeps again while some, including him, skip a few meals—all because they want to save money.

“Sayang eh, pang gas na din iyon,” he added.

Although drivers feel burdened by the weekly oil price hike, they said an increase in fare should not be done.

“Hindi dapat taasan ‘yan, mahirap na ang buhay ngayon. Maganda talaga dyan ay rollback… krudo talaga ang kalaban,” Victor explained.

Dubai crude has breached the $80-mark this week and the Department of Energy says it may rise even more, as supply struggles to keep up with demand.

Now that oil prices are projected to reach P100 per liter, Sampaloc might become a ghost town again—but not because the government is imposing another lockdown.

For the likes of Victor and Ramon, the wheels of their jeeps might be left unturned again.

A series of misfortunes, one after the other.