Richard Hogan: My daughter's time with Badjao children taught her money doesn’t bring you happiness

Richard Hogan's daughter Hannah on her first trip to Davao The Philippines to spend time with the Badjao Tribe with the charity Embrace Badjao
I have been working with the Badjao Community in Davao, Philippines, since 2011. It is one of the greatest privileges of my life.
They are a small community living in rudimentary huts on a scrap of land above the Pacific.
But they are a proud people. They have such dignity in the face of extreme poverty. A Badjao welcome is an extraordinary experience.
The children are the warmest, funniest, self-effacing kids I have ever met. They are also shy, until they trust you, and then carnage ensues.
The laughter, the noise, the sharing of stories, the pure love they radiate can actually be a little overwhelming to experience.
I see the volunteers that work with the charity, struggling in the opening moments of meeting the Badjao children to share that love back.
They have been hiding that part of themselves for so many years, viewing it as weakness.
But once they are confronted with such genuine love, unconcerned with image or bravado, they open up and start to let their guard down.

I watch them dancing with the Badjao, I hear them say ‘I love you too’. I see them reflecting on their life back in Ireland, trying to figure out what they have experienced here among the Badjao.
I find it incredible to observe; human beings communicating and connecting on such an honest level.
The Badjao have that impact on you, they strip away all the protective layers we have in the west to stop ourselves from being exposed as loving or vulnerable and let you just be your true self.
Unfiltered and real. It is one of the most remarkable things I have observed in my life.
This year’s trip was particularly meaningful for me because my eldest daughter, Hannah came on the project.

In 2019, three members of the Badjao tribe lived with me and my family for over three months. It was a special time. My daughters absolutely adored the Badjaos.
The fun they had together, they even attended Hannah’s communion celebration. What a laugh that was. We travelled around Ireland, laughing, singing and just sharing time together.
She was eight when they stayed with us, she was now meeting them again as a fourteen year old teenager. Very much into her phone and other trappings of western teenage life. When they met at Davao airport, it was an emotional reunion. It was love.
As I’m writing this, we are just back from going out with Badjao fishermen on the Pacific. Another experience hard to articulate.
Right now, I am upstairs in the school we built in 2023, looking out over the Pacific, where horizon and sky meet in the most magnificent blue.
The noise downstairs is fabulous. It is the noise of love.
Whenever I see White House briefings, I always think to myself how absent of love they are. It seems to me to be a loveless place.
No music, no humour, no fun, no connection, no love of humanity, just greed, greed, and more greed.
So, the world can seem a little less magical at the moment, and on the edge of catastrophe. My daughter reflected on that this year.
Money doesn’t actually bring you happiness. It allows you to help others, but doesn’t make you happy.
She came to this conclusion by herself, through the immense experience she has had here with her Badjao friends.
Travel is the great educator. And she has been changed by it. The team of young adults, too, have been transformed once again working with the Badjao children.

They could be anywhere in the world, but choose to spend their summer working with the Badjao children.
We often hear such negative narratives about the coming generation, they are described as consumed with technology and unable to communicate.
But what I witness each year is uplifting and tells a different story. One of hope for the future. I see young adults having fun and letting themselves go and sharing love, no technology just pure connection.
All of the work we do with the Badjao community would not be possible without the help from sponsors. This year AerCap have joined us on the quest to alleviate the extreme poverty the Badjao community endure on a daily basis.
AerCap genuinely want to help children out of poverty and into education, so members of the Badjao community have the same opportunities afforded to children in Ireland.
As my daughter said; the meaning of making money is so you can help others less fortunate. I am incredibly grateful for this collaboration, because I know how much it will impact on the lives of Badjao children.
We are already setting up scholarships for young Badjao adults who want to pursue their dreams of attending university.
When I spoke to the elders in the community about the scholarship programme, tears of joy were shed. Their children will finally have a chance to break the cycle of poverty.
What a dream it is for me, to have this come true. We are leaving tomorrow. But we leave with a full heart.
The Badjao have touched us all with their honesty, simplicity and openness.