ILOILO City — By mid-morning, the engine is already warm — but the meter isn’t moving.
At a transport terminal, Roberto Sumbo sits behind the wheel of his taxi, waiting. Not cruising, not chasing passengers, not burning fuel unnecessarily. Just waiting. Because these days, every unnecessary turn of the engine costs more than it earns.
For Sumbo, a 36-year veteran of the road from Santa Barbara, Iloilo, this is unfamiliar territory. He has seen fare adjustments, fuel fluctuations, even economic downturns — but never like this.
“Maayo man ang tag-iya sa akon. Sia ang nag-adjust. Okay lang kon pila ang ginahatag ko,” he said, referring to his operator who reduced his daily “boundary” or rent from P900 to P700.
It is a small mercy in a crisis that feels anything but small.
A Tank That No Longer Sustains
Once upon a time, a full tank meant a full day’s work — and a decent take-home pay. Now, it is a gamble.
Diesel has surged to around P120 per liter. What used to be routine refueling is now a calculated risk. Sumbo no longer fills his tank. Instead, he buys just enough — about P1,300 worth, or roughly 11 liters — to get through the day.
Barely.
“Waay gid ti income bisan singko sentimos. Kahapon P2,500 lang gross ko. Kulang pa sa gatong,” he lamented.
The math is unforgiving: gross earnings swallowed almost entirely by fuel costs. What remains is not profit — but survival.
And even that is uncertain.
Passenger demand has thinned. Fewer commuters. Fewer fares. More idle hours. More waiting.
“Nagasulod na lang sa pinsar ko mag-untat kay kon magbiyahe ako, wala man ko ma-ginansya,” he revealed.
The thought of quitting — a once unthinkable option after decades on the road — now lingers.
The Boundary Bends, But Doesn’t Break the Burden
Across Iloilo, operators are beginning to bend the rules of survival.
The “boundary” system — long a fixed daily obligation — has softened under pressure. Some operators, recognizing the strain on drivers, have begun reducing rental fees just to keep their units running.
For Ernesto Camora, 65, also from Santa Barbara, that meant a reduction from P800 to P700.
“Barato lang akon. Naga-ayo ako arkila kay ti waay ka gid dal-on mo. Nagahatag man sila sang ayu,” he said.
But even with the lowered boundary, the numbers still refuse to work in the driver’s favor.
Fuel alone now eats up more than half — sometimes nearly all — of daily earnings.
“Pigado na daan ang kita namon, tapos makadto lang sa gatong. Sang una P700 lang gasto namon sa gatong, subong naga-doble, ara sa P1,400. Kun mag-income kami sang P2,000, sa gatong gakadto ang P1,400,” Camora explained.
On one recent day, he earned P1,500. After fuel, almost nothing remained.
So like many drivers, he adapts — not by working more, but by moving less.
“Kis-a kon gamay income ko, ginagamay ko man ang tughong. Amo ran nga nagapila lang ako kag waay nagalibot para indi magasto sa gatong,” he disclosed.
Waiting, once a passive act, has become a survival strategy.
A Shared Understanding, A Shared Struggle
In Estancia, taxi driver Angel Bacos tells a similar story — one softened only by the understanding between driver and operator.
“Umpisa nga nagmahal ang gatong, nagpanubo ang amon operator,” he said, referring to the P100 reduction in his boundary, from P1,250 to P1,150.
But even goodwill has limits.
“Kon pila lang man amon hatag sa tag-iya. Kon short or kulang wala man sila pagreklamo kay na-intindihan man nila,” Bacos shared.
There is compassion — but also resignation.
“Sa gasoline nagakadto ang amon kita sa biyahe. Waay na kami i-dala sa amon pamilya. Amo na nga nagapila na lang kami para indi gasto sa gatong,” he added.
Income, in its truest sense, has disappeared. What remains is a cycle of earning just enough to keep going — and nothing more.
The Younger Driver, The Same Old Struggle
Even younger drivers are not spared.
At 30, Joven Lapizar of Mandurriao, Iloilo City drives a traditional jeepney along the Ungka (ITSGI)-Highway route. His daily boundary stands at P700 — unchanged, despite the rising costs.
“Mahimakas ka gid nga maglibot-libot para may income kaw pay gamay man lang,” he said.
Yet unlike others, Lapizar hesitates to ask for a reduction.
For him, the burden is shared.
“Kun panuboan na karon ano na lang kuhaon ka tag-iya. Sa goma pa lang daan, mahal na, sila daan ang naga-maintenance,” he explained.
Behind every driver struggling to earn is an operator struggling to maintain.
It is a system under strain — from both ends.
A Sector on the Edge
What is unfolding on Iloilo’s roads is more than a story of rising fuel prices. It is a quiet crisis — felt not in headlines, but in empty meters, idle engines, and long hours of waiting.
The boundary has been lowered. The expectations adjusted. The understanding deepened.
But the reality remains unchanged.
Even with reduced rental fees, drivers are still running on empty — earning less, spending more, and bringing home almost nothing.
And as the engines continue to idle, one question lingers in the silence:
How long can they keep going?/PN
