I’ll be honest – I didn’t want to do this. The idea of running for public office, of entering the political arena, was never part of the plan. My family, especially my wife and I, have agonized over this decision. We’ve spent countless nights discussing it, weighing the pros and cons, wondering if this was truly the right step. We knew, even before seriously considering this, what public life would entail. We had a small taste of it during our journey with Angkas – facing media scrutiny, testifying in Senate and Congress hearings, fighting court battles and navigating legal and political hurdles. But despite all the public attention we received, we understood that these experiences were just a fraction of what we would face once we stepped fully into the public arena.
And yet, here we are. Despite all the hesitation and fear of what’s to come, we can no longer stand on the sidelines. Sometimes, the cause is too important. The stakes are too high. The potential impact is too great to leave to chance or to entrust to someone whose mandate lies elsewhere. This issue – the future of the informal sector and the people who power it – is too big to leave to a favor, a whisper or an advocacy handed off to others who may not have the same depth of focus.
We have lived this struggle. We have fought for the recognition of tens of thousands of hardworking individuals who, despite their grit and determination, are still considered part of the “informal sector.” These are the motorcycle taxi drivers, market vendors, street-side entrepreneurs – people who are the backbone of our economy but who remain invisible in the eyes of the law.
The informal sector is a vital force in the economy. It provides livelihoods for millions of Filipinos who don’t have access to traditional employment. Yet, these people work without any of the benefits that come with formal employment. No health insurance, no job security, no pensions and often, no legal recognition of their work at all. Despite their essential role in society, they are frequently marginalized and their contributions unacknowledged.
This is where Angkas made a difference. When we started Angkas, we weren’t just building a business; we were trying to bring legitimacy and dignity to an entire sector that had been ignored for too long. Before we entered the scene, motorcycle taxis existed in a legal gray area. Riders faced harassment, fines and threats of shutdowns because the law didn’t recognize them. Meanwhile, commuters – who depended on these services, especially in our traffic-congested cities – had no safe, regulated options.
Through Angkas, we sought to legitimize these workers and give them the recognition they deserve. We built a system that worked, providing our riders with professional training, safety standards and stable incomes. In doing so, we proved that this sector could not only survive but thrive under the right conditions.
Now, I don’t want to make it sound like we did this alone – because we didn’t. Along the way, we’ve had some incredible champions in Congress and especially in the Senate who helped us get to where we are today. They believed in our mission and supported our cause, even when it wasn’t easy or popular. They fought alongside us in hearings, in committee meetings and in public forums and, for that, I am deeply grateful.
But here’s the thing: it’s not their fault that we haven’t fully crossed the finish line yet. These lawmakers are dealing with countless other issues, representing a wide array of interests and sectors. They can’t focus solely on the informal workers’ cause, even if they want to, because they have a broader mandate. Hence the decision for party-list. We need representation that is dedicated to this advocacy.
I don’t make this decision lightly. I know this sector inside and out. I live and breathe it. I’ve fought for it – through blood, sweat, tears and years of battling alongside our supporters. I understand the business side, the ecosystem, the regulatory hurdles and, most importantly, the individual heroes who keep it running. I’ve spent years working directly with these hardworking men and women, and I’ve seen firsthand the challenges they face and the potential they possess.
This isn’t just my run. This is a movement that belongs to the sector itself. It’s about their rights, their dignity and their future. This is a true party of hardworking individuals who know their rights and are ready to establish them. It’s a party run by the very sector it represents.
At the core of this advocacy is a need to reframe how we see informal workers. They are entrepreneurs in their own right – what I like to call “nanopreneurs.” They embody the Filipino spirit of entrepreneurship, building businesses with grit, resourcefulness and determination. They deserve to be recognized as such.
These nanopreneurs are the first wave of a new kind of entrepreneurship – one that doesn’t require large amounts of capital but relies on hard work, innovation and opportunity. They deserve our support. They deserve access to training, to financial assistance, to health care and to the legal protections that formal workers enjoy. We need to build systems that allow them to grow their businesses, support their families and contribute even more to our economy.
And we need to start by formalizing their work, just as we did with Angkas. The Angkas system is a good system. It’s one that works. We’ve proven that with the right framework, the informal sector can not only be legitimized but elevated.
Now I am convinced to do this because the cause is too important. The fight chooses you. And when the fight is this crucial, you have no choice but to step up. Because these hardworking, self-reliant individuals – the nanopreneurs – are true heroes of our economy. They deserve more than our gratitude; they deserve a seat at the table.