Coming from a job interview one gloomy, humid Saturday back in 2002, I came across a middle-aged lady shaking as if she had fever on the corner of EDSA and P. Tuazon Street in Cubao in Quezon City. Her face grimacing in pain and anxiety. She told me her name is Nida and she travelled all the way from Bicol to look for her sister. But she ran out of cash looking for her sister’s home address in Quezon City.
I asked her if she’s eaten already but she said her mouth and stomach just couldn’t take in food. In fact, she already had her plastic bag full of food and some cash given to her by passersby. She was in real, burning, freaking pain. And no one dared to listen to her.
Realizing we both didn’t have enough money in our pockets, I decided to look for help from the nearest police outpost. I told the two police officers about the situation of Nida who was just outside their station for since early morning. Continue reading When Money Isn’t Enough