Each morning before sunrise, millions of workers from Cavite, Laguna, Bulacan, and Rizal pour into Metro Manila – navigating darkness, long lines, and daily exhaustion. Their struggle isn’t mere inconvenience; it’s the consequence of a failed transport system shaped by decades of political neglect and poor governance.
For a metropolis that boasts of economic growth, mobility has become a privilege. Public transportation is fragmented, unreliable, and underfunded. Trains and buses are overcrowded; jeepneys face phaseouts without viable alternatives; and the rich, tucked comfortably in SUVs or helicopters, remain untouched by the chaos.
Despite countless plans and announcements, real reform remains elusive. Major projects like the Metro Manila Subway and North-South Commuter Railway are delayed by land issues, or political reshuffling. While these projects are presented as solutions to the country’s worsening transportation crisis, it is worth asking who truly benefits from these massive projects. Rather than genuinely easing the burden of daily commuters, these developments seem to favor the interests of foreign investors and transport infrastructure corporations. Funded by taxpayer money and foreign loans, these ventures may deepen our national debt – leaving ordinary citizens to bear the long-term costs – and will increase user-fees.
Take the Public Utility Vehicular Modernization Program (PUVMP) for instance. Intended to improve the sector, the PUVMP forces financially strained jeepney drivers to upgrade without sufficient support. Instead of fostering an inclusive transition, it appears more like displacement masquerading as progress.
Similarly, the Unified Vehicular Volume Reduction Program (or number coding scheme) has lost its impact. Wealthier drivers simply buy extra vehicles to bypass restrictions, widening social gaps. It’s a traffic policy maintained more out of habit than utility – symbolic of a governance style favoring short-term fixes over real solutions.
Pedestrian infrastructure fares no better. Overpasses, with steep stairs and no elevators, are unusable for seniors, persons with disabilities (PWDs), pregnant women, or those carrying heavy loads. What’s meant to keep them safe often forces them into more danger, like jaywalking across highways.
Accessibility laws like the Accessibility Law (Batas Pambansa Blg. 344) and the Magna Carta for Persons with Disability remain poorly enforced. Buses lack ramps, sidewalks are obstructed, and train station elevators are often broken. Transport planning excludes those most in need of inclusion.
At the core of the problem is a political economy that prioritizes cars and elite interests. Billions go to flyovers and road widening, but sidewalks stay narrow, pedestrian safety is neglected, and mass transit remains aspirational. The government’s approach to transportation has been heavily influenced by neoliberal principles, which prioritize market-driven solutions, privatization, and foreign investment over public welfare. Commuters are left to fend for themselves.
The recent resumption of the No Contact Apprehension Policy (NCAP) by the MMDA illustrates these issues. While it initially reduced traffic violations, critics argue it penalizes vehicle owners rather than actual violators, raising due process concerns. Like many policies, it was launched with inadequate public input, showing once again how top-down governance creates more friction than solutions.
Beyond infrastructure, spatial inequality deepens the crisis. Soaring costs near job centers have pushed workers to the fringes, focusing hours-long commutes just to survive. The lack of decentralized development compounds their hardship. What should be a daily journey becomes a form of forced migration.
Cyclists, too, are among the most marginalized road users. Though biking surged during the pandemic as a lifeline for frontliners and low-income workers, it remains dangerous due to reckless drivers, poor infrastructure, and fading government support. While the Department of Transportation aims to expand bike lanes to 2,400 km by 2028 and requested Php2.6 billion for 2025, only Php6 million was allocated – casting doubt on real commitment. Some cities like Quezon City have made strides, put proposals like MMDA’s plan to share EDSA bike lanes with motorcycles show how easily cyclists’ safety is sidelined. For many, biking isn’t a choice – it’s the only option.
If the government genuinely aims to fix the commuting crisis, it must shift from car-centered planning to people-focused mobility, a people-centered economics. This means funding mass transit urgently and equitably, creating safe, accessible roads for all users – including pedestrians and bikers – and empowering local governments to lead context-sensitive solutions. Crucially, it means listening to those who use the system daily: commuters, drivers, cyclists. This would also involve reorienting policies to prioritize public ownership, equitable access, and sustainable development, ensuring that transportation systems serve the broader public interest rather than primarily benefiting private entities.
Until then, commuting in Metro Manila will remain not just a logistical challenge, but a daily reminder of inequality. Every stalled train, crumbling sidewalk, and overcrowded bus exposes the cost of political failure. A truly livable city will come not from more roads or shiny projects, but from a transport system designed for the many, not the few.