Five hundred pesos—an amount the Department of Trade and Industry (DTI) claims is enough for a family of four to have their Noche Buena. DTI Secretary Cristina Roque’s remark, framed as an appeal to simplicity rather than excess, was delivered as though restraint in this context were merely a matter of preference for the Filipinos, not of necessity.

From where we sit, inside one of the country’s most prestigious universities, it would be dishonest to pretend we understand scarcity in the same way many families do. Most of us in the University dine at full tables—at home or abroad—with our intact traditions and the assurance that the holidays will not require impossible trade-offs.
It is precisely because of this distance, however, that we recognize how dangerous it is when those in power speak so casually about what should be “enough” for everyone else. The issue is not just about one holiday meal; it is about how far public officials are from the everyday struggles of the working class. This reveals a disconnect that enables political arrogance to pass as common sense, normalizing and reframing economic struggle as acceptable.
This arrogance is made even more obscene coming from a government that funneled billions into questionable projects and budget allocations controlled by personal and vested interests, while instructing ordinary Filipinos to lower their expectations and embrace scarcity as a virtue.
This meagerness is imposed on the many through cold, selective data, while excess is only reserved for a few at the top, paid by the very taxes we pay. This is why such rhetoric goes beyond disrespect; it entrenches deprivation as the norm, while those who agree with the notion remain fully shielded from any financial consequence. But the problem has never been the numbers alone.
Ultimately, the issue transcends financial shrewdness. The season of giving falters in the hands of our covetous public servants, who police citizens’ budgets rather than provide meaningful, long-term solutions that would erase the need for such restraint in the first place.
Noche Buena has always been a celebration of Filipino togetherness. It should not be centered on how much is spent or what is served, but on with whom the dishes are shared. But when families are forced to scrimp and scrape by with what they can afford, the added factor of frugality makes it all the more challenging to create lasting memories with their loved ones amid already turbulent times.
The matter at hand is not a concern of materialism; it is a demand for fairness. While those who cleverly make do with tight budgets are admirable, their arduous efforts make us ponder: Why, during a tradition meant for us to share and show gratitude for our blessings, must they still have to go without? Why must Filipinos have to constantly reduce themselves to restriction, just so those at the top can indulge themselves in extravagance?
The Christmas season is meant to reinforce the celebration of life and the value of community. However, when government agencies tell us that frugality should be our reality in the face of rampant corruption, this casts doubt on whether they are really listening to the public’s pleas.
The DTI’s proposed budget is more than just absurd; it is an insult to every Filipino. As government agencies shift the blame from rotting financial systems to poor personal financial management, families are led to believe that their failure is caused by their own incompetence rather than systemic injustice.
Time and time again, officials have washed their hands clean of the responsibility to provide safety nets and adequate living by advising the masses to save and conserve. But comfort should not be mutually exclusive from survival.
This is a wound that festers deep beyond the holiday season. We cannot dictate a definite value on life or happiness. Five hundred pesos pales in comparison to the billions lost in untraceable deals, unfelt projects, and undelivered promises. The nation’s longevity should not rest upon the austerity demanded of the common Filipino, but on the transparency and accountability of its leaders.
Rather than demanding personal sacrifices to accommodate the greed of a select few, we must instead demand a government that serves the nation’s needs without self-interest.
As Lasallians, our distance from scarcity obligates us to take action, because to remain compliant is to betray the very purpose of our education: to question power and stop those who try to define what is “enough” for those already living with less.
