Monday, July 5, 2010


Five days after Benigno Simeon Aquino III swore in as the 15th President of the Republic of the Philippines, I still couldn’t find the appropriate words to string together, that I may actually write a decent article on the recent turn-out of events, as we once again write a new leaf on the history of our nation.

Let me begin by apologizing to everyone, whose hearts swelling and glowing with pride and enthusiasm, whose clothes flooded with yellow and those whose thumb and index finger in some sort of an angle. Forgive me if I’m not as optimistic as you. Forgive me if am not as trusting as you are.

I guess it was really hard for someone who’s been alleged of being a total cynic, worse a communist rebel, to remain optimistic if you spent your early years only to learn that hope is a refuge for the fools. For a young mind indoctrinated by his university and his nature of work of a savaging truth about your country, where the story of a mining activist Eliezer Billanes, gunned down inside a crowded public market of Koronadal City, happens every day in its every corner, questions would always find its place. Especially if you spend some quiet time talking to a family of farmers, who not only lost their hopes of having their own piece of land to plow but also lost a precious son whose education was built by ounces of sweat and blood, Hacienda Luisita would never become a promise of bright yellow hopes and promising future.

I was there in front of the television. Too young to join the fat mob trying to throw away a gambling lord, who only a few years ago was cheered by the same people as he deliver his iconic speech of ‘wag-ninyo-akong-subukan, I was then glowing with pride at the display of my country’s precious democracy. Here is a country of truth, I said. Here is a nation who deserves a leader of truth, she said.

That was Gloria Arroyo, with all her poise and smile that rival that of Erap’s poor posture and heavy mustache that is hiding so many secrets of anomalies, a symbol of hope and a new promise for a country whose economic stature at the very bottom of financial heap. It was then again time to dream; time to restore the national faith.

But three years grew nine and dreams turned nightmare. Millions for the casinos turned millions for a cozy dinner and millions of payolas become millions of pork barrels.

We all asked, what went wrong? Erap’s grin inside his golden cell hinted nothing but sarcasm. Cory Aquino did a pontious-pilate. Juan dela Cruz shunned away in a corner, confused, betrayed and still deprived. He felt defeated.

It is the cycle of truth that led us from Marcos’s dictatorship to failed promises delivered by Cory Aquino; from the so-called elitism of Ramos to Erap’s daunting plunder; and now from Gloria Arroyo’s horror to Noynoy Aquino’s transposed humble democracy of his parents. But behind all the mud and dirt of previous governments and ruling, there lies my unwavering faith for people of courage and honor, who manages to smile and laugh in the midst of a calamity, be it by nature or by their very own leaders –my faith and hope for my fellow Filipinos.

I remember what my favorite priest, who’s now assigned at the National Shrine of Our Lady of Fatima in Valenzuela, used to say in his homily. Optimism and being hopeful is different. Optimism is expecting things to turn-out according to your preference. Hope, on the other hand, is the conviction that even if things didn’t turn-out quite right, we stand anyway. And with pride I can say, Filipinos stood firm despite anything. Weathered all storm. Nurses his every wound.

It’s not that I don’t have faith for our new president at all. By all means, I am willing to support his administration as a citizen of this nation. And with conviction, unlike the previous years, I can say that he is my president. The challenge of six years has just begun and the promises of Noynoy are as heavy as his parents’ legacy. The bulk of job is no joke yet the chances were there already.

Mourn the losses because they are many but celebrate the triumphs since they are few. This is a celebration of our small triumph of making it out of nine years of mockery, of delusion, and the constant massacre of our basic rights. The color of celebration is not yellow but red, from the blood of no less than 57 victims of Maguindanao massacre where justice is not yet served; from the blood of no less than 97 activists that are killed in southern Mindanao since Gloria Arroyo took office in 2001; and from the blood of hundreds and hundreds of faceless and nameless Filipinos who are slaughtered as a result of insatiable greed for money and power.

This I can promise. Like the previous years of Gloria Arroyo’s administration, I will remain hopeful, not optimistic. And am sure most of us will. After all, this is still the same Philippines, the same Filipinos. The same land and the same heavens above. But in this new era, the cycle continues. Efforts must be doubled. And hope must always prevail.

2 reaction(s):

Mu[g]en said...

Your entry reminds me of Patricia Evangelista's article yesterday in PDI. :)

Désolé Boy said...

rily???ndi ko pa nabasa..i'll take as a compliment though bilang Executive Producer namen siya sa ANC..baka naman may link ka po..thanks!


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