It was a sunny and busy morning in Cebu City. People were scrambling to get to work, students were trying to catch their flag-raising ceremonies, and my fellow Collegian member, Luisa, and I were about to meet with Ernesto Jerusalem, more known to the locals as Bai Estoy, a jeepney driver in the city, to work as his conductors. 

The day had just started for most of us but Bai Estoy, 63, had already gone around Mabolo, Cebu City three times with his yellow traditional jeepney.

Bai Estoy has been traversing this route for 37 years already. In those years, he has lived through many government policies that threatened his livelihood. Today, he continues to deal with exorbitant fines for violations and the incessant jeepney phaseouts, but he does this with a strong resolve to fight for the rights of not only his fellow drivers, but also us passengers 

In the Driver’s Seat

Jeepney drivers typically set aside a good portion of their earnings for gas money. Without modernized gas meters, most would use a stick to determine how much gas is left in the tank.

By 7 a.m., Bai Estoy’s jeepney was full of supermarket employees and wet market vendors ready for the hustle and bustle. The many passengers and the never-ending back-and-forth of fares and change got me panicking as the conductor, but Bai Estoy was unbothered. 

“Giunsa man na nimo pagpanukli ug sakto nya paspas, Bai?” I asked him. “Mahilig gyud ko’g math bisan pag high school pa,” he said. (“How do you manage to give the change quickly and correctly, Bai?” I asked him. “I really enjoy math, even when I was still in high school.”)

Due to family problems, Bai Estoy was not able to go to college. He worked as a jeepney conductor right after high school and learned to drive a year later. He has been a jeepney driver since 1986, making him one of the most seasoned in his route. 

Beyond the steering wheel, Bai Estoy is a leader of Pinagkaisang Samahan ng mga Tsuper at Operator Nationwide (PISTON) Cebu Mabolo Chapter. He used to be a full-time organizer in 2017 but went back to being a jeepney driver after two years. Still, he remains active in forwarding the calls of his fellow jeepney drivers in dialogues with transportation offices and demonstrations in the streets.

For this reason, Bai Estoy is popular among his fellow drivers. They would look up to him not only for having been a long-time jeepney driver, but also for being at the forefront of asserting their rights.

When the Fares Fall Short

Bai Estoy always has his phone near him for when his fellow jeepney drivers might call for help. 

At around 10 a.m., he received a call from his friend who was fined P15,000 to P18,000 by the Land Transportation Office (LTO) for three violations, including not having wipers and taillights. With the high prices of gasoline, rent of the jeepney, and everyday needs, Bai Estoy’s fellow driver could not afford to pay the fine. 

Usually, PISTON negotiates fines with the LTO, but this takes a long time leaving the driver in question suspended from his job and without a source of income for weeks. In these cases, they find other ways. 

Bai Estoy offered to contribute P1,000 to pay the fine and contacted other members of their chapter to help as well. “Kinsa pa man diay ang magtinabangay diba?” he said. (“Who else is there to help each other, right?”)

LTO's exorbitant fines are a shared problem among jeepney drivers in the Philippines. Joint Administrative Order No. 2014-01 tackles the schedule of fines and penalties for violations of laws, charging jeepney drivers from P1,000 to P100,000 depending on the offense. PISTON had called not to pass this order back in 2014 and had conducted strikes nationwide to stop its implementation, but the exploitative law remains in place today. 

Often, I would even catch Bai Estoy telling the passengers who insist on unloading the jeep at improper places, “Naog tas tarong nga nauganan bai, P1,000 baya’y multa kung madakpan!”  (“Let’s unload the jeep at the proper place or else I would be fined P1,000!”)

Drivers like Bai Estoy are forced to deal with the anti-poor policies of the transportation agencies of the government. Now, they are facing yet again another unfair program that may take the livelihood of small-time jeepney drivers in the guise of modernization.

Bai Estoy recounts a time his fellow jeepney driver was fined for defective vehicle equipment in Mabolo, Cebu City. Informing him that it would take two weeks to lighten the charges, the driver resorted to paying the remaining fees first before saving up again. 

When the Wheels on the Jeep Can’t Go Round

Whenever we parked for a while, Bai Estoy would take a bottle of water and pour it into his engine through a tube near his steering wheel. He told me that it was to keep the engine cool. 

“Mao ni original Filipino invention. Di pareha anang modern jeep kung muinit kailangan manaog tanan,” he proudly told me. (“This is the original Filipino work, unlike the modern jeeps where everyone will have to unload if the engine gets very hot.”)

Unlike the traditional jeepney, the modern ones were airconditioned, bigger in size, and had a higher base fare rate by P3. They are everywhere in Cebu. In fact, the province has the greatest number of modern jeepneys in the country at 5,000 units. A fourth of this drive around the capital according to Greg Perez, chairperson of PISTON-Cebu.  

According to Bai Estoy, modern jeepney drivers used to run traditional ones, too. But when news of the Public Utility Vehicle Modernization Program (PUVMP) was released, they chose to forego their jeep out of fear of losing their jobs. Some traditional jeepney drivers returned to their provinces outside Cebu while others were enticed to join transport cooperatives. 

So that the jeep would not overheat, Bai Estoy adds water to the jeepney’s radiator each time he completes his route.

Under the modernization program, PUVs at least 15 years old are to be replaced with modern units, which cost five times than traditional ones. It also seeks to implement route rationalization and industry consolidation. The first one assigns only high-capacity jeepneys to high-demand areas, which shrinks the routes of the drivers and by extension, their income. The latter requires drivers to join cooperatives in order to obtain a franchise.

The PUVMP was originally set to take full effect in 2020, but the Land Transportation Franchising and Regulatory Board (LTFRB) kept on extending it due to the driver’s strong resolve to fight it. It would take the livelihood of thousands of traditional jeepney drivers and operators given the high cost of the units, said PISTON.

Due to the cost of the modern units, there are two ways for small-time drivers to acquire them. Either work a certain number of hours for a fixed wage with a target quota per duty, or rent the units per day. The drivers are at the losing end in both cases. They would either need to reach the quota else their wage be deducted, or pay the high boundary rent of the modern units. 

On February 22, the LTFRB set the franchise validity of traditional passenger jeepneys until June 30, 2023. 

Bai Estoy does not see the PUVMP taking full effect any time soon, but if it does, he would choose not to drive anymore—he was too old to partake in the hustle needed for modern jeepneys, he said. He would instead live with his children and help in their household.

This does not mean that Bai Estoy would stop speaking up for the jeepney drivers in the country. He has been at the forefront of demonstrations against jeepney phaseout since 2017, and he does not see himself doing otherwise, unless the government finally listens.

At 3 p.m., we were on our way to return the jeepney to its garage, and my and Luisa’s stint as jeepney conductors neared its end. But the next day, and every day following that, Bai Estoy will do the same routine: going rounds around Mabolo before the sun even shines, and continuing to fight for the rights of jeepney drivers–be it in dialogues with the offices or on the streets.

I asked Bai Estoy, “Nganong grabe kaayo ka madasigon nga drayber ug member sa PISTON bai?” (Why are you so enthusiastic as a driver and PISTON member, bai?)

He answered me in Filipino this time: “Kasi, sa manibela ako nabuhay. Sa daan ang hanapbuhay naming mga tsuper. Hindi naman kami lumaki sa pagkakarpentero o kahit ano pang trabaho. Kaya bakit hindi ko iyon ipaglalaban?” ●

Photos by Luisa Elago.