She’s the daughter of a jeepney driver—and a leader of national change: Hyacenth Bendaña is pushing for more inclusive transport in the Philippines

For Hyacenth Bendaña, the way to improve the Philippine transport system is to focus more on the people, rather than on making vehicles more efficient. This often means protesting in the streets—which she was able to organise throughout her time at Ateneo De Manila. “The lens through which I see democracy is, first and foremost, through protest,” says Bendaña. “Other students have a different lens: through creating programmes, winning business case competitions or becoming the president of an organisation.”

Building off her background, she organised numerous protests, some of which garnered national attention. She recognised that it made for a compelling headline: university students were pushing for the rights of lower classes, immersing themselves in the experiences of people from all walks of life. Some senators would even join the protests, adding credibility to the cause. “When you take public transportation, you are exposed to people from different backgrounds,” she says. “You see how people with different kinds of disabilities navigate the train system—or struggle to. You develop a different kind of empathy from this groundwork.”

In case you missed it: Jeepney’s enduring journey—origins, cultural value, and the threat of being phased out

When Bendaña graduated from university in 2020, she remained devoted to the cause she had been highlighting for years. But when Covid-19 started spreading throughout the Philippines in early 2020, protests came to a standstill. “Many of the protests are centred on Manila,” she says. “But we had to go home to provinces [like Albay], where there were minimal democratic actions and no civil society organisations. There were fewer protests for jeepney drivers’ rights.” 

Still, Bendaña was not willing to give up. She co-founded the Move As One Coalition, but says it was difficult to get the organisation up and running. “Many of its initial members were former civil servants, which humanised the government,” she recalls. “While protesting, it was easy to stir people’s frustrations with the government to build momentum.” 

But transitioning to coalition work required a more delicate, careful approach. “I was challenged to rebuild my trust in the government. It was the institution that made my father’s life difficult, that phased out jeepneys in 2017, that ignored our invitations to dialogue. It was frustrating as it often felt like we were just going in circles. The people I was trying to work with had fixed mindsets,” she says. 

One of the issues that the Move As One Coalition tackles head-on is the lack of protected bike lanes, which was a glaring issue for healthcare workers during the Covid-19 pandemic in 2020. “Many of them couldn’t afford cars. But the public transport system was fully shut down during that time. They had no choice but to walk during the wee hours of the morning, and some of them got into accidents with speeding vehicles,” Bendaña laments. “We started designing protected biking lanes to connect different hospitals. We also advocated for the government to cover transport workers’ salaries, especially because social distancing lessened the number of passengers they could pick up and drop off.” 

Bendaña has held a unique position as the daughter of a jeepney driver, which made her something of a poster child for the transport sector. “But I am still not a driver–I am the daughter of a driver. I grew up in this world, but they might have felt my experiences were not enough to justify this. This would sometimes result in microaggressions and condescension,” she says. 

Being a woman has also allowed her to be a key player in discussions around transport issues in the Philippines. Women’s immersion in the lives of family members, from the youngest child to the oldest parent, familiarises them with everyday transportation struggles. “Women know that five seconds is not enough for a pregnant woman to cross the street. They know that overpasses can be uncomfortable for women in dresses or skirts to cross,” she says. “The lack of usable sidewalks makes it difficult for people with disabilities or the elderly on the way to doctors’ appointments.” 

Bendaña is keen to emphasise that the push for better transport policies is a collective effort. “Starting a movement is one thing; making it sustainable is another challenge,” she says. “I want to build a transport movement that is not reliant on me as an individual. I can’t do things alone–many people have the network, education and resources to give the organisation more credibility.” 

An important lesson she’s learned since starting coalitions is the importance of paying each person fairly. Bendaña’s own ability to protest was directly proportional to the time and resources she had to rally in the streets. Meanwhile, the people she advocated for couldn’t even reach the daily minimum wage of PHP 645. 

“Even jeepney drivers who want to attend half-day Congress hearings cannot afford to do so, because it means a loss of profit and time,” she says. “But when you give them liveable wages for organising, when their daily work is subsidised and they have transport allowance, members of these sectors are incentivised to represent themselves and share their lived experiences.”

Unity is a key component of Filipino culture, which prides itself on being deeply family-oriented. But that can put undue weight on younger generations to live out their parents’ unexpressed dreams and unmet goals. After working tirelessly to drive the conversation around transport, Bendaña feels it is time to focus on other aspects of public policy that need her help. With Move As One now becoming more self-sustaining, she feels empowered to explore wherever she is called to serve.  

“There are a lot of systematic barriers that prevent us from participating–claim your space anyway. There is no time for you to reject yourself or minimise your efforts when there is so much you can do from where you are,” she offers as advice. “My name was not on the list of these meetings, but I invited myself. I was not a priority to them. I was not top of mind when they wanted to talk to experts in the field. But I started building the credibility of my name on the merits of my hard work.” 

As Bendaña explores other aspects of Philippine public policy, one thing is certain: she will be approaching every new pursuit with ferocity and heart. 

Front & Female Changemakers celebrates the extraordinary journeys of inspiring women who have emerged as powerful changemakers in a range of fields, offering a glimpse into their lives and showcasing their courage, vision and relentless pursuit of change and progress. From social entrepreneurs and business leaders to educators, artists, activists and scientists, Front & Female changemakers exemplify the ability to challenge the status quo and demonstrate the power of women to effect change.

NOW READ

Meet Elizabeth Quijano, the Blaan indigenous community’s first creative writer to win a National Book Award

Beyond surfing: why Lokal Lab’s vision matters for a resilient, sustainable Siargao

These farmers grow your food, but they can’t afford to eat—this social enterprise is changing that