Maginhawa Community Pantry: A Movement of Common People, Now a 6,700-Strong Nationwide Network

There was almost a self-deprecating air to Ana "Patreng" Non as she – through a patchy video call one rainy Friday – dismissed her role as the originator of Maginhawa Community Pantry.

"Hindi ko inaangkin 'yung community pantry as Patreng, it's about the community," she emphasized. (I am not taking ownership of the community pantry, it’s about the community).

But this wasn't the self-deprecation that has characterized much of the sensibilities of the younger generation nor was it a flimsy attempt to humble brag. Being the artist that she is – she graduated from the College of Fine Arts of the University of the Philippines, Diliman, after all – Patreng likens Maginhawa Community Pantry to an artwork that no longer belongs to the artist once released to the public.

"'Pag nilabas mo siya sa public, sa gallery man 'yan o installation sa labas, hindi na siya sa 'yo," she explained. "May ibang interpretation na 'yung mga tao."

(Once you put out an artwork in public, whether in a gallery or an installation outside, it’s no longer yours. People will have different interpretations of it).

It was why the 26-year-old Patreng immediately went home to hide after she set up a small bamboo cart on Maginhawa Street back in April. She had filled the cart – a reject from her small furniture business – with a few pieces of sayote, some bags of rice, canned goods, as well as alcohol, face masks, and toiletries.

She then taped two cardboard signs on the post beside the cart, one that read "Maginhawa Community Pantry" and the other "Magbigay ayon sa kakayahan, kumuha batay sa pangangailangan." (Give what you can, take what you need).

A Movement of Common People

The pantry was borne from the community’s unanswered needs, during the second lockdown in the National Capital Region that left Patreng’s neighbors, many of whom were tricycle drivers, vendors, and peddlers, hungry and with no livelihood. They were the pantry’s first recipients, who in turn became the pantry's first volunteers.

Yet in those early days, Patreng shared that the conversations surrounding the pantry had been negative.

"'Ay yung mga Pilipino kukuha ng sobra, papakyawin, ganyan,'" Patreng recalled. "Actually, simula bata pa 'ko 'yun na 'yung narrative, 'yung pag demonize [sa] mahihirap or 'yung pagiging judgmental natin sa isa't isa. 'Yung nega tayo sa kapwa Pilipino, dina-odown natin, lalo na sa mahihirap."

('Oh, Filipinos will get more than they need, they’ll just end up hoarding’ comments like that. This has been the narrative since I was young, this demonization of the poor, or our being judgmental towards each other. We're negative towards fellow Filipinos and we put them down, especially the poor).

The negativity, however, did not last. The pantry took a life of its own, tiding out the naysayers, disbelievers, and the unconvinced, and the community where it was set up grew into a more accepting and compassionate one.

From a small bamboo cart, Maginhawa Community Pantry has transformed into a much bigger pantry and now occupies the parking lot of Maginhawa’s barangay. On Dec. 14, Maginhawa Community Pantry will mark its eighth monthsary.

Maginhawa Community Pantry has also spurred a nationwide movement — the Community Pantry Philippines — which at present has over 6,700 community pantries in its network, all of which inspired by the lone pantry in Maginhawa.

This has seen Maginhawa Community Pantry shift its role. It has become a distributing hub to help out the smaller pantries under the Community Pantry PH network, transporting excess goods and produce to pantries in Metro Manila that are in need of more donations and support.

"Halos lahat ng community pantry organizers na registered sa Community Pantry PH hindi sila mayayaman. Galing [sila] sa middle class and urban poor areas,” said Patreng. "Ang tingin ko diyan kasi alam nila 'yung pakiramdam nang may kailangan, so nandun 'yung awareness talaga na, 'Alam kong magutom kaya magpa-pantry tayo para sa 'ting lahat.'"

(Almost all of the community pantry organizers registered under Community Pantry PH aren't wealthy, they come from the middle class and urban poor areas. The way I see it is these people know what it feels like to be in need, so that awareness of 'I know what it's like to be hungry, so we're going to put up a pantry for all of us' is there).

On Being Red-Tagged, Shut Down, and Taking the Power Back

Just days after being set up on April 14, the Maginhawa Community Pantry was forced to temporarily shut down its operations after Patreng and its volunteers were ruthlessly red-tagged online. Red-tagging is a tactic wherein individuals or groups – from community workers, journalists, and writers to NGOs, religious workers, and educators, among others – are maliciously and baselessly tagged as communists or terrorists.

Patreng took to Facebook last April 20 where she announced the shutting down of the pantry for her safety and the volunteers', posting screenshots of the Quezon City Police District, the National Task Force to End Local Communist Armed Conflict, and other netizens associating the community pantry to the Communist Party of the Philippines.

At the time, Patreng called on Quezon City Mayor Joy Belmonte for help, especially after three police officers took her phone number and questioned her about what "organization" she belonged to.

"Natatakot po ako maglakad mag-isa papunta sa Community Pantry ng alas singko ng umaga dahil po sa walang basehang paratang sa amin," she wrote then. "Gusto ko lang po talagang makatulong at sana po ay huwag nyo masamain."

(I am scared to walk alone to go to the community pantry at five in the morning because of these baseless accusations against us. I just really wanted to help and I hope you don't take it the wrong way).

Apart from being red-tagged, Patreng also spoke of being catcalled by police officers. The experience created such fear in her that she could no longer go out and do the things that she loves, such as riding her bike or jogging.

"Nandun 'yung takot pa rin, tapos kailangan ko mag seek ng professional help, magpa-therapist dahil sa mga nangyari kasi susundan ka, may rape threats, may death threats na hindi mo naman deserve..." she said.

(The fear is still there. I had to seek professional help, I had to see a therapist because of what happened. They follow you, there are rape threats, as well as death threats that you don't deserve).

It came to a point when she had to speak to her family about what was happening to her. In a conversation with her mother, Patreng said she did not want to live in fear.

"Sabi ko, 'Hindi ko alam kung okay na ba ako, kung safe na safe na 'ko, pero nay ayoko mabuhay sa takot..." Patreng recalled telling her mother. "'Kung may mangyari sa'kin, okay na 'ko nay, nagawa ko 'yung purpose ko. Fulfilled ako sa buhay ko kahit maiksi lang… Ayoko lang mabuhay sa takot.'"

(I said, 'I do not know if I am now okay, if I am already safe, but mom, I don't want to live in fear. Should anything happen to me, mom, I'm good with that. I've already finished my purpose. I am fulfilled with my life even if it's just short… I just don't want to live in fear.')

Patreng eventually had to make a choice and in the end chose to take her power back, to no longer live in fear.

"Kinuha ko na ulit 'yung power na ako nang bahala sa buhay ko,” she said. (I took back the power that I am in charge of my own life).

And while there are still people who continue to red-tag her, Patreng said that she no longer pays attention to these accusations, especially when these make up only a fragment of the tons of comments she receives, most of which are supportive.

"Hindi ko siya ititigil kasi kailangan siya ng mga tao tapos kailangan ko rin siya," she said. "Kailangan lang nating bawiin talaga 'yung power, 'yung space. Kailangan natin magtulungan."

(I will never stop the pantry because people need it and I need it, too. We just really needed to take back the power and the space. We need to help each other out).

"Nanalo yung narrative ng mga tao kasi nakikita nila kung ano ang community pantry, [kung] para saan ba siya,” she added.

(The narrative of the people won because they truly see what the community pantry is and what it is for).

More Than Just a Viral Story or Trend

For all the inspiration and chain of community pantries the Maginhawa Community Pantry has kindled, at the root of this all is the understanding of a serious issue that continues to pervade the lives of millions of Filipinos.

Whenever Patreng’s posts about the pantry would go viral on Facebook, she shared she would often feel overwhelmed and happy over the support, but at the end of the day knew this should not take away from the real problem at hand: food insecurity. That the pantry emerged as a “pantawid gutom” (a temporary aid to hunger) during the health crisis only highlights this.

Even before the pandemic, millions of Filipinos have since suffered from food insecurity. According to the United Nations' Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO) report on Food Security and Nutrition in the World in 2020, 59 million Filipinos were moderately or severely food-insecure from 2017 to 2019, a jump from 44.9 million from the years 2014 to 2016. The FAO has also recorded that 18.8 million Filipinos were severely food-insecure from the years 2017 to 2019.

Moderate food insecurity has been defined by the FAO as facing “uncertainties about [one's] ability to obtain food and [having been] forced to compromise on the quality and quantity of the food [one] consume[s].” Severe food insecurity, on the other hand, is defined as “typically [running] out of food and, at worst, [having] gone a day, or days, without eating.”

This is why Patreng believes that the Maginhawa Community Pantry is more than just a viral story.

Hunger had become the common ground of Filipinos during the health crisis.

“Palagi nila sinasabi na kaya lumawak yung community pantry kasi nag viral siya. Well, totoo naman, pero bukod sa pagiging viral tingin ko andun din ‘yung pangangailangan kasi ng mga tao sa community pantry,” she said. “‘Yung bilis ng pagdami niya, ‘yung pag pickup ng mga tao, ‘Uy may gutom din sa community natin.’”

(They always say the reason why the community pantry expanded is because it went viral. Well, there’s truth to that, but more than that I think it was because the need for the community pantry was there. From how fast the pantries snowballed and how people picked up on it, ‘Hey there are people in our community that are also hungry.’).

Mutual Aid, Not Charity

At first glance, it is easy to make out the community pantry as an act and form of charity — but it isn’t. Patreng made this clear, as she pointed out the sharp differences between charity and mutual aid, which she says is what the community pantry is.

"Sanay tayo dun sa donor-driven na initiatives, na may isang organization, isang tao, artista, na pupunta sa isang area, magdo-donate, one-time big-time event or once a year. Tapos magpapa-thank you dun sa donor,” she said. “Ang community pantry, community-driven siya. Walang hierarchy 'yung donors sa kumukuha, pantay sila kasi parehas silang may role dun sa system... Nagsasalubungan. Hindi tayo nililigtas kasi tayong lahat, 'yung community, 'yung magliligtas sa atin.”

(We are used to donor-driven initiatives where there’s one organization, one person or celebrity who goes to one area to donate in one-time big-time events or once a year. And then after, they’ll ask the recipients to thank the donors. The community pantry is community driven. There is no hierarchy between the donors who give and the recipients who receive, they are all equals, they all have an important role in the system. We meet each other halfway. We are not being ‘saved’ by anybody because it is the us, the community, who will save us).

Patreng also said how the community pantry has helped members of the urban poor recognize their own important role in society and how this has dignified them.

The realization that one can be a peddler or a tricycle driver and still be able to contribute to society is a crucial one to have – especially in a country where the poor are often demonized and where it’s not uncommon to find tarpaulins bearing the giant smiling faces of politicians, highlighting their every initiative and move.

In Maginhawa Community Pantry, however, it is the commoners that take center stage. Here, you won’t see any famous person, nor any traces from any politician. What’s only palpable is the work of simple Filipinos, wanting to do good for their fellowmen because they know it is the right thing to do.

“Tungkol siya sa mga simpleng tao. Basta pala busog 'yung mga tao, may pagkain na basic need, ang daming pwedeng magbago. Matagal pa yung laban, pero start siya,” said Patreng. "Wala talagang nasa isang tao 'yung sagot. Kailangan [kasama ang] lahat."

(It’s about simple citizens. So many things can change as long as people are well-fed and have food – which is a basic need. We’ve got a long struggle ahead, but this is a start. The answer really isn't to be found in one person. It should be from all of us).

If you wish to give monetary donations to the Maginhawa Community Pantry, go here. For in-kind donations, you may drop off the goods from Sunday to Saturday, 10 AM to 6 PM, at this address: 108 Maginhawa St., Teacher's Village East Barangay Hall (Masinsinan entrance). Contact number: 0916 321 0717

If you wish to help or volunteer, kindly coordinate with your neighborhood community pantry. You may check the full list of community pantries in the Philippines here. For more information about Community Pantry PH, go here.