Is the Philippines really gender equal?


While the country leads in various aspects of gender parity, it is time to acknowledge where we are falling behind.

The woman was made out of the side of Adam; not made out of his head to rule over him, nor out of his feet to be trampled upon him, but out of his side to be equal with him, under his arm to be protected, and near his heart to be beloved.—Matthew Henry, Exposition of the Old and New Testament (1708-10)

The Philippines is ahead of many countries, even countries that are more economically developed than us, when it comes to gender equality, so we can take some time to celebrate that this Women’s Month. But, because it is Women’s Month, I would like to add that it is not enough to provide opportunities for us women to advance in the public sphere. We also need to be given a space of free judgment when it comes to the most personal aspects of our lives that commonly (but, I want to make clear, not definitively) define us as women.

Yes, I am talking about sex, because somebody has to. Because anything less in a discussion on gender equality isn’t an actual discussion on gender equality, merely the shadow of a woman made out of Adam’s side.

With over 90 percent of the population Christian, most Filipinos will be familiar with the Genesis creation narrative that Eve was created out of one of Adam’s ribs. Whether intentional or not, we as a society have taken the idea and run with it: the social concept of who we women are is most often defined in terms of who men are.

She is daughter to a father, wife to a husband, mother to a son (or to a daughter who will become wife to a husband).

From the origins of our nationhood, the women of the male-led revolution were initiated and empowered through links of marriage and, or, kinship. Gabriela Silang. Presidents Cory Aquino and Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo. Vice President Leni Robredo. This is not to belittle the work they have done, but to shed light on a part of Filipina empowerment that we tend to ignore—its direct relation to social class.

As the Indian non-violent revolutionary Ghandi once famously said, “a true measure of any society can be found in how it treats its most vulnerable.” As we cast our eyes away from the women in the spotlight to the most vulnerable often left in the shadows, we can see where the Philippines continue to fail. In the struggle for full gender equality, we still conform to what we see as required of us in a man’s world.

In 2020, the World Economic Forum (WEF) ranked the Philippines 16th in their annual Global Gender Gap Index the highest in Asia. A nice statistic to wave around, but what exactly does it mean?

The Global Gender Gap Index measures how close countries are to “closing the overall gender gap” through four performance indicators: economic participation and opportunity, educational attainment, health and survival, and political empowerment. Like many other young women, I find strength when I see Filipinas find success in business and politics, and there are many historical and contemporary figures to admire.

I take pause, however, as I read the WEF’s report: “The Philippines has closed both its educational attainment, and health and survival gender gaps.” How can this be, I ask myself, when teenage pregnancy has been declared a national social emergency?

was born out of the Filipino Adam. Not of his rib but of his mind and heart. Whenever a Filipino male found a real-life woman difficult and contrary, he took refuge in her shadow.

—Carmen Guerrero-Nakpil, ‘Myth and Reality’ (1962)

In this past decade, while commendable strides have been made for women in a variety of fields, adolescent pregnancies in the Philippines have steadily grown. On average, there are seven children born each day to Filipinas who are aged 10 to 14.

The main reasons for the alarmingly high rate of adolescent and teenage pregnancy in the country are attributed to the two performance indicators we supposedly closed the gender gaps in—education and health.

The patchy and controversial implementation of the Reproductive Health (RH) Bill, passed in 2012, has meant there are still ineffectual sex education and a lack of access to contraception for the most vulnerable teenagers, girls and children who need it most.

We often equate full gender equality with stepping into the roles predominantly held by men but that is only a part of the picture. When the WEF says educational attainment, they are talking about whether women are able to enrol in the same basic education afforded men. And when the WEF says health, they are talking about whether women are granted the same access to healthcare as men.

The concept of equal education and health is written in a language chiefly made by men to accommodate their own needs. Male education does not typically talk about sexual education, while male healthcare does not typically include contraception. That is because the burden often lies on the woman who carries, bears, and commonly raises the child, a child who is as much an offspring of poor education and healthcare as they are of man and woman.

The Philippines has never shied away from accepting women on equal terms as men, in business, politics, and in the household. Now, let’s accept women on their terms, as well.