When Your Community Shows Up: The 2026 Gensan Giving Basket Raffle

Three years ago, I made a promise to myself that I've managed to keep. When disaster hits communities that matter to me, I'm going to turn that care into action. Not just thoughts. Not just words. Action that lands.

This year, on June 8, 2026, a 7.8 magnitude earthquake devastated General Santos City, Philippines. Schools collapsed overnight. Hospitals fell. Hundreds of families lost everything in minutes.

I asked our MWP community one simple question: Will you help?

The Raffle, the Basket, and You

Every year, we run the Giving Basket Raffle. The concept is straightforward: $5 per ticket. A basket full of wellness goodies as the prize. 100% of proceeds go directly to a local school and hospital in Gensan rebuilding from the ground up.

What's not straightforward is watching your community respond.

People bought tickets. They donated items for the basket. They shared it. They cared about people they've never met on an island they may never visit. They understood, without me having to explain it, that whole person care means sometimes you have to care beyond the four walls of your clinic.

This is the third year we've done this together.

Why This Matters to Me

You know my background. I'm not just a physician; I'm someone whose family came from the Philippines. I grew up hearing stories about resilience, about community, about showing up for people when things fall apart. My mother taught me that privilege is a verb, not a noun. You don't just have it; you do something with it.

When I started MWP, it was because I believed that healthcare could be different. That it could be whole. That it could be about real people in real communities, not just billing codes and quarterly targets.

That philosophy doesn't stop at the exam room door.

The Person Behind the Gift: Remie

I need to say something about Remie, because this raffle exists because Remie exists.

Remie is the person who doesn't just donate or volunteer from a distance. Remie is the person who makes sure the money gets there. Who has family in Gensan. Who knows the principal at the school. Who can tell you the exact story of how those funds are being used, because Remie follows up. Remie checks in. Remie cares enough that the help doesn't stop at the gesture.

In a world full of people who mean well, Remie is someone who actually does well.

When you buy a raffle ticket, you're not just giving to an organization. You're giving because someone like Remie bridges the gap between intention and impact. That's the real gift.

What This Means Now

The raffle is closed. The winner has been drawn. The money is there. And now the real work begins: rebuilding a school. Repairing a hospital. Helping families get back to something resembling normal.

I wish I could tell you exactly what that money will rebuild, square foot by square foot, because I know that matters to you. I know you gave because you wanted to be part of something real, not just a tax write-off or a good Instagram moment (though I'm grateful if you shared this, too).

What I can tell you is this: every single dollar goes there. Not to overhead. Not to administration. Straight to the people rebuilding their lives.

The Thing About Generosity

I spend a lot of time in clinic talking about health. About hormones, about weight, about what it means to actually care for your body and your whole self. But I think there's something people don't talk about enough: the health of generosity itself.

When you give like this, you're not just helping someone else. You're building something in yourself. You're saying, "I'm part of something bigger than my own life. I'm part of a community that shows up."

That matters. For them. For you. For all of us.

Thank You

To everyone who bought a ticket: thank you for believing that $5 could mean something real.

To everyone who donated a basket item: thank you for putting your hands into this, literally.

To everyone who shared this, talked about it, and brought it to their friends and family: thank you for extending the reach beyond what I could do alone.

To Remie: thank you for being the kind of person who doesn't just dream about helping; you actually do it. Year after year. With integrity. With follow-through. That's rare, and it's everything.

And to General Santos City: we see you. We're thinking of you. We're honored to be part of your rebuilding.

This is what whole-person care looks like when it grows beyond four walls.

This is what it means when a community says yes.