WHAT IS THE PHILIPPINE DEFINITION OF HOMELESSNESS?

 WHAT IS THE PHILIPPINE DEFINITION OF HOMELESSNESS?

When we speak of “homelessness” in the Philippines, what do we really mean? A man sleeping under a bridge? A family living in a shanty along a creek? Or a salaried employee who cannot afford to buy even the cheapest condominium unit in the city?

The answer depends on who is defining it.

Under Republic Act 7279, or the Urban Development and Housing Act of 1992, the government uses the term “Underprivileged and Homeless Citizens.” Legally, these are families whose income falls below the poverty threshold and who do not own housing facilities. This includes informal settlers—those living in makeshift dwellings without security of tenure.

Statistically, however, the Philippine Statistics Authority (PSA) uses a narrower lens. In census terms, the “roofless and homeless” are those literally living in parks, sidewalks, under bridges, or in other public spaces. Informal settlers are often counted separately.

The Department of Social Welfare and Development (DSWD) goes even further, classifying families “on the street,” families “of the street,” and completely detached homeless individuals.

So which is correct? All of them—and yet none of them fully capture reality.

Let us examine the numbers. Estimates suggest that around 4.5 million Filipinos are considered homeless under broader definitions. About 3.7 million Informal Settler Families (ISFs) live without secure land tenure. Meanwhile, the national housing backlog is placed at approximately 6.5 million units and growing.

But here is the question: Is the “housing backlog” the same as the “homeless rate”?

Not exactly.

The housing backlog refers to the shortage of adequate housing units. Homelessness refers to people without secure shelter. They overlap—but they are not identical.

Suppose there were suddenly enough housing units tomorrow to erase the backlog. Would homelessness disappear? Not necessarily. If families still could not afford to buy or rent those units, they would remain homeless in practical terms.

That is why, for me, the core issue is affordability.

Even if there is ample supply, people are effectively “homeless” if they cannot afford decent shelter. In Metro Manila today, even so-called “socialized housing” units can require monthly amortizations beyond the reach of minimum wage earners. What good is supply if price excludes the poor?

This is where we must question our development model. Big developers exist primarily for profit. That is their nature, and there is nothing immoral about profit. But expecting profit-driven corporations to solve poverty-level housing may be unrealistic.

Perhaps the solution lies elsewhere.

Housing cooperatives, if properly structured and professionally managed, could offer a more humane alternative. Unlike large developers, cooperatives exist to serve their members. Land banking, collective financing, and cost-based pricing could dramatically reduce unit costs. Instead of maximizing returns for shareholders, cooperatives could prioritize affordability for low-income families.

We should also study the Singapore model, where over 80% of residents live in government-built Housing Development Board (HDB) flats. While Singapore’s political and economic context is different, its commitment to large-scale public housing shows that homelessness can be minimized when housing is treated as social infrastructure rather than merely a commodity.

In ASEAN comparisons, the Philippines appears to have one of the highest reported homeless populations. But this is partly because we include informal settlers in our count. Other countries often count only the roofless. In a way, our broader definition is more honest.

Still, honesty is not enough.

If we define homelessness narrowly, we underestimate the problem. If we define it broadly, we expose the magnitude—but must then confront the responsibility to act.

So what is the Philippine definition of homelessness?

Legally, it is about poverty and lack of ownership. Statistically, it is about rooflessness. Socially, it is about vulnerability.

But morally, it is about affordability.

If a Filipino family cannot afford safe, decent shelter, then in my book, they are homeless—whether or not they sleep under a bridge.

And until we address affordability through serious social housing reforms and cooperative solutions, our housing backlog will remain more than just a statistic. It will remain a national conscience issue.

RAMON IKE V. SENERES

www.facebook.com/ike.seneres iseneres@yahoo.com senseneres.blogspot.com 09088877282/04-02-2027