As you approach the port's entrance, your eyes would first land on the glossy, probably recently lacquered metal nameplate of the Manila Harbour Centre (MHC). Against the blistering Manila heat, its glimmer casts a sort of spotlight on the scene to its left: hulking freighters lining up along the wharf, portside cranes hoisting container vans from ship to shore, and a brigade of semi-trucks carrying batches of steel beams safeguarded by sheets of blue drop cloth.

Further towards the left, however, you would see tatters of that familiar blue covering now tied in a slipshod manner to an erect piece of bamboo–a temporary dwelling for those whom the harbor has turned its back against. A large, orange-colored piece of hemp fabric is also fastened to a tree with rope, and on it are painted the words “Ibalik ang 370 manggagawang tinanggal!”

The company of disgruntled workers forced into substandard living conditions just beside the harbor entrance casts a striking contrast to the image of progress, innovation, and development that one might derive from the sight of MHC. Yet, this distinction epitomizes a classic story that MHC’s dockworkers have lived for more than 10 years now–some for even more than 20. It is a story of fractured limbs, illegal contracting, and chronic hunger.