Health Problems
Every morning, Grace Alonzo wakes up coughing and gasping for air, the smoke from burning trash lingering in her lungs. A longtime resident of Baseco, she has suffered from asthma since her teenage years. Before sunrise, she gathers her makeshift garbage collection kit and recycled rice bags, preparing for another day of picking up plastic waste.
Baseco, a densely populated community near Manila Bay, frequently floods during typhoons, washing in garbage — mostly plastic — from across the city. "A lot of kids here have asthma, and I think it's from the trash and the burning. I feel bad for them because I know how hard it is. I collect garbage myself so my neighbors don't have to burn it," Grace says as she hands out rice bags for waste collection. Walking through narrow, littered pathways, she gestures toward floating plastics in Manila Bay. "When the water rises, the plastics come to us," she says, shaking her head.
Lorme Villarba, an owner of a sari-sari store (a neighborhood convenience store) near the San Juan River, recalls when markets still used baskets and banana leaves for packaging. "Now everything is wrapped in plastic, and I worry about how much of it we use," she says. In 2023, during one of the floods, her husband, Tony, contracted leptospirosis, a bacterial infection spread by water contaminated with rat urine. Lorme believes plastic waste worsened the flooding by clogging drains and waterways. “When it rains, I am nervous. It’s impossible to clean when there are sachets everywhere," she says, frustrated by the never-ending tide of plastic and the health risks it brings.
The Sachet Economy
Wealthy nations produce the most plastic waste, often exporting their trash to developing countries in a practice known as waste colonialism. The Philippines, a major recipient of imported plastic, also struggles with its own plastic dependency, driven by poverty and economic constraints.
In the middle of this crisis is the "sachet economy," where single-use plastic packets allow consumers to buy household and hygiene essentials in small, affordable quantities known as "tingi culture." This system caters to low-income families who cannot afford bulk purchases. According to the World Bank, the Philippines generates about 2.7 million tons of plastic waste annually, with 20% ending in the ocean. In 2019 alone, Filipinos used an estimated 163 million plastic sachets per day. These sachets are nearly impossible to recycle due to their multi layered composition and small size. Unlike recyclable bottles or containers, they clog waterways, pile up in dumpsites, and end up in the ocean, exacerbating the country's waste and flooding problem. The lack of a nationwide waste management system further worsens the crisis.
Marita Blanco, a former street sweeper in Manila, has seen firsthand how plastic waste overwhelms communities. "Sachets are the hardest to clean. They're everywhere," she says. Despite local efforts to promote waste segregation, she says the reality is bleak. "Even if people separate their trash, we don't know where to put it. As a street sweeper, Marita earns just 4,500 pesos (about $77 USD) per quarter, and Marita faces an uphill battle. "I earn so little, but my responsibility is huge." Every Monday, she collects plastic and educates people on proper waste disposal, but the stigma around her work is discouraging. "People look down on me because I handle garbage, but they don't realize I'm saving us from drowning in plastic." Marita now manages a Sari Sari store and plastic collection site in their neighborhood.
Women Leading the Fight Against Plastic Waste
"As mothers, we have a responsibility to protect our environment," says Nenita Naturan, a mother of three who runs a junk shop in Manila. After her husband's death, she tried various jobs — selling vegetables and construction work — before realizing the value of recyclables. Though her business sustains her family, she struggles with the sheer volume of waste, which is mixed and complex to sort. "Segregating plastics and cleaning them takes time and resources. The volume can be overwhelming."
"Plastic almost weighs nothing, but it takes over everything," says IIusion Farias, the managing director of Generation Hope, who launched the Aling Tindera program, gesturing to the pile of plastics being weighed during their plastic collection in Lorme's Sari Sari store. This initiative helps women micro-entrepreneurs, particularly small store owners, become community sustainability advocates. The program pays women to collect plastic waste, turning them into leaders in waste management and recycling.
Grace and Lorme, who once collected plastic waste as a volunteer, turned their efforts into a steady income stream four years ago through Aling Tindera. "What started as volunteering became a livelihood," Grace says. Last year, she bought a tricycle to expand her collection efforts. "Now I can collect from farther away. Sometimes, I just follow the smell of burning plastic and bike there," she says. Lorme wants to see an end to sachet use but acknowledges that many people cannot afford larger, reusable alternatives. "Poverty is not a reason to stop caring for our environment," she says, sorting through the plastics she has collected.
The Philippines plastic crisis is deeply intertwined with poverty, economic structures, and global waste exports. Recognizing the urgent need for action, the Philippine government passed the Extended Producer Responsibility (EPR) Act of 2022, requiring large corporations to recover and recycle their plastic waste. By 2028, these companies are expected to recover at least 80% of their plastics. Progress has been slow, and enforcement remains a challenge. Amidst this crisis, women are stepping up — as recyclers, waste collectors, and community leaders. For Grace, Lorme, Nenita, and Marita, the fight against plastic is more than just an additional income — it's a mission to protect their families, their health, and their communities from being buried under waste.