SASKATOON — At the time you see this, Canada's most recent election may well have been decided.
This was my second chance to cover a federal election. The first was in 2021 when I was assigned to Maxime Bernier’s People's Party of Canada on election night in September at the Saskatoon Inn & Conference Centre.
Then there was the provincial election in October last year, where the Saskatchewan Party won a fifth straight majority, despite getting swept in Regina and losing several ridings in Saskatoon. The Saskatchewan NDP doubled their membership in the Legislature.
Next came the city elections in November, where former Ward 6 councillor Cynthia Block was elected as the city's first female mayor, and Senos Timon, who fled Sudan’s civil war with his family in 2000, became the first city councillor of African descent.
We’ve been in Saskatoon for almost six years. During the provincial and city election campaigns, I only saw lawn signs, billboards and posters in high-traffic areas, and the candidates' fliers left in mailboxes. I was impressed and surprised by how campaigning and elections are conducted here, with minimal fanfare and ceremony. It starkly contrasts the fiesta-like atmosphere in the Philippines, and when I worked on Saipan, the largest island of the CNMI, a U.S. territory in the Western Pacific.
I was born and raised in Manila, the capital of the Philippines, and my home country will also have its elections, where voters will choose to fill 18,198 provincial, urban and rural municipal positions, including 12 seats in the Senate.
I recently went home for a couple of weeks for personal reasons, during the hottest month when temperatures soared into the high 30s and peaked at 41 C.
It is also the campaign period there. It's crowded, and I hate to say this, but it's also dirty and noisy. Campaign jingles wake people up as early as 7 a.m., and the candidates’ glammed-up posters and other signs are pasted or hung everywhere: on the streets, houses, electric poles, and so on. Campaign jingles utilize the music of various international and Filipino artists, such as the collaboration between Bruno Mars and Rose, by modifying the song's lyrics to promote their cause or outline their plans if elected. It was much worse in far-flung rural municipalities in select provinces, where candidates and even their supporters are killed by hired gunmen, with the primary suspects being their rivals. Some candidates also use money to buy the support of voters.
It’s been this way ever since I became eligible to vote at 18 — eons ago. The same old message: candidates claim to be pro-poor and would prioritize the rights of ordinary people if elected. Some elected officials remain faithful to their promises and genuinely help improve the lives of poor and marginalized Filipinos. In contrast, others use their position to benefit their families and friends.
Most of the candidates, particularly in the provinces, come from families that have been involved in politics for decades — a dynastic-style system where they've built their own political kingdoms. These families turned politics and public service into a family business. Take the case of Las Piñas, one of the National Capital Region’s highly urbanized cities, where cousins from the same political family — in power since the 1960s — are set to compete for the mayoralty.
Now, let’s turn to the candidates hoping to win one of the 12 Senate seats. Despite featuring some credible individuals, especially from progressive groups and the opposition, the list is primarily composed of former actors and celebrities, as well as personalities of questionable character, and familiar names, with some already having a family member currently serving as one of the 12 incumbent senators. I still ask myself why some of them decided to run for positions in the Legislature, which are usually held by lawyers, economists, diplomats, and former Supreme Court justices.
The problem with most Filipino voters, especially the poorest of the poor, is a lack of electoral maturity and proper voter information, which prevents them from making informed decisions about choosing a candidate who can help alleviate their situation. Instead, they would rather be entertained by those who dance and sing during campaign rallies. It is only in the Philippines that a candidate like disgraced Pastor Apollo Quiboloy is allowed to run for a senate seat despite being in prison due to charges of alleged human trafficking activities.
The job of a senator is to create laws or amend existing measures that would benefit everyone. They would spend hours studying, researching, and crafting each bill they filed, rather than relying on their legislative staff to interpret and compose drafts.
It was disheartening to see the same faces during my brief visit, during which I stayed in our house in the municipality of Marilao, Bulacan province. From the jueteng kubrador (collector of the illegal numbers game), beggars, the barkers (callers of passenger vehicles), and those who still live in the slums near the river bridge. These are the same people fooled by politicians who think of themselves and keep them reined in using patronage politics and the Filipino cultural value of utang na loob or debt of gratitude, where entitled officials want voters to show their obligation to repay favours by continuously electing them or members of their families, thus creating political dynasties.
Even though my family and I are now based in Canada, I hope to see changes in my lifetime. I want to see marginalized people have an authentic voice in the Philippine Legislature, where their rights will take precedence, their lives will improve, and common labourers and workers, who are paid a minimum wage of P645 ($15, Canadian) a day, receive salaries they deserve. I want to see a country where every child has access to a better education and an opportunity to secure a well-paying job after graduation. I want the Philippines to have transparency and accountability, where the people's taxes are well spent on projects and programs that benefit them, not just filling the pockets of the ruling class.
