Why every Filipino child deserves a daycare down the street

**media[17326]**NIGHT OWLEvery morning, thousands of single mothers from Davao to Dagupan face a brutal dilemma: they must choose between relying on relatives or friends to watch their children—often at great personal and economic cost—or stepping out of the workforce entirely. Latest data from both government and NGOs reveals some 15 million single parents in the Philippines, nine out of 10 of whom are women. This widespread care gap isn’t merely a private struggle; it’s a systemic failure that restrains the potential of families and drags down the national economy. My time at LSE Cities honed my perspective, teaching me that accessible, neighborhood-based childcare is a universal necessity. Working mothers all around the globe face the same barriers.Consider a mother in Bacolod, rising before dawn to board an overcrowded jeepney, only to hand her toddler off to an aunt in another barangay. By the time she reaches her job—whether at a factory or market stall—she has already spent hours and precious pesos simply securing basic supervision. Some women patch together informal networks of neighbors; others forgo paid work altogether, trading vital income for the assurance that their children are not left unattended. When multiplied across Luzon, Visayas, and Mindanao, the economic and social toll becomes undeniable: lost earnings, reduced productivity, and a perpetuation of poverty.The solution lies in neighborhood-scale daycares that function as more than mere childcare centers—they become true community hubs. Placed at the heart of each barangay and co-located with existing health clinics or multipurpose halls, these small facilities would foster peer support among mothers, create stable employment for local caregivers, and integrate early-childhood nutrition and learning programs. No parent—from Iloilo City’s bustling center to Nueva Ecija’s rice fields—should ever have to choose between nurturing their child and pursuing economic opportunity.Investing in a network of local daycare centers may appear costly at first glance, but the returns are rapid and measurable. Accessible childcare reduces absenteeism, narrows the gender pay gap, and improves developmental outcomes for children—outcomes that compound as youngsters enter the formal school system better prepared to learn. Over time, mothers remain employed longer, advance in their careers, and contribute more in taxes, while businesses benefit from a steadier, more diverse workforce. Even our congested roads ease, as fewer women make redundant commutes to distant care facilities.Making this vision a reality will demand coordinated action across national and local government. Zoning codes must be revised to permit childcare centers in both residential and mixed-use neighborhoods. Start-up grants and technical assistance should flow to community cooperatives and trusted NGOs prepared to manage these micro-daycares. Above all, single mothers themselves must sit at the center of planning and oversight, ensuring operating hours, fee structures, and program offerings align with their lived experiences. By rigorously tracking enrollment rates, maternal employment figures, and shifts in local traffic patterns, policymakers can learn quickly, scale what works, and adapt where it doesn’t.A daycare down the street may sound modest in a nation of more than 110 million people, but its ripples would be profound. It would reframe public infrastructure as care infrastructure, acknowledge that women’s unpaid labor is economic labor, and guarantee that every child—and every single mother—has the chance to thrive. If the Philippines truly aspires for inclusive growth and lasting resilience, accessible neighborhood childcare must be its next frontier.