(TOP SHOT of living room coffee table, lightly varnished)

(Four orange-colored tickets randomly fall on the table. The big word on each ticket says ?graduation?)

(A woman?s hand enters frame and gets one ticket)

(A female voice is heard. Stay on the top shot of the table)

Tita Nina: (Aunt of Celine; late middle age. Nice, kind voice but surprised): Hindi mo siya iimbitahin?

(Top shot of table: the ticket is thrown back on table)

Celine: (A 20-year-old woman?s voice; strong, decisive. Beautiful adolescent) HINDI!

(Cut to Celine and Tita Nina--medium shot in the living room. Small and modest)

Tita Nina: ANO? Nanay mo siya! Graduation mo ito!

Celine: Bakit ako mag-iimbita ng patay?

Tita Nina: Diyos ko! Alam mo ba kung anong lumalabas sa bibig mo?

Celine: Tita Nina, she left me. She?s dead.

Tita Nina: Ako rin, umiyak ako nang umalis ang kapatid ko, nanay mo. Ngunit kinakailangang umalis siya, Celine. Iniwanan kayo ng tatay mo para sa ibang babae. Ayaw kang tustusan ng tatay mo para sa college mo.

ANO ANG AKALA MONG GAGAWIN NG MOMMY MO?

Celine: (Very calm but with inner hurt) Iniwanan ako ni Daddy. Then she, my only love, my mother, she left me, too! I don?t care if she had to go and be an OFW somewhere. I don?t care about the money she sent me. I don?t care about this college degree! I needed her love! Not money. Not a college degree!

Tita Nina: Gusto niyang may college degree ka sapagka?t may talino ka at galing naman kayo sa mariwasang pamilya. Kanya lang ... ang daddy mo, ninakaw lahat ng ?

Celine: Stop it, Tita Nina. Ikaw na lang ang natitirang nagmamahal sa akin.

(She breaks down and tears fall from her eyes. Close-up)

Ikaw lang.

Tita Nina, ikaw lang ang hindi umalis. Katabi kita sa lahat ng aking pagdaramdam. Ikaw lang.

Kaya, Tita Nina, ?yang apat na ticket na ?yan para sa imbitasyon sa graduation ko?

(Cut to top shot of tickets on the coffee table. Medium shot.)

(Celine sweeps away three tickets and takes one orange ticket.)

(Celine continues her dialogue) (Cut to medium shot of Celine holding one ticket)

?isa lang ang gagamitin ko. Isang ticket para sa iyo.

(Cut to close-up, two-shot of Celine and Tita Nina)

Tita Nina: (In tears) Uuwi siya bukas. Surprise niya sa iyo. Huwag ko raw sabihin sa iyo. Ibinili ka ng napaka-gandang damit na may ternong sapatos pa.

Isusuot mo raw sa ilalim ng toga mo.

(Zoom to face of Tita Nina, half of her head looking backwards)

Ang gusto lang daw niya ay makita kang naglalakad na may suot na toga sa graduation mo. Iyon lang daw ang kailangan niya na kapalit ng lubos na sakit na ibinigay niya sa iyo at dinaranas rin niya dahil sa pag-alis niya at pagkahiwalay sa iyo.

(Tita Nina turns back and looks at Celine. Tight close-up of Tita Nina)

Mommy mo siya, Celine.

(Cut to full shot of living room)

(Celine gets one of the tickets she threw on the floor)

(Tita Nina walks towards Celine, thinking she picked up the other ticket to give her mommy after what she said. She is half-smiling)

(Silence as Celine holds the ticket for a second. Camera then slowly zooms into a tight close-up of Celine, facing the camera with the ticket in her hand, beside her face. She flicks the ticket out of her fingers.)

Celine: Patay na ang Mommy ko.

(Blackout)

Another TV network soap opera?

No. Real life.

How many mothers have left for Hong Kong, Europe and the Middle East just to be invisible mothers to their three-year-old children, mysteriously sending money for education, food, clothes and crayons?

And what does the Philippine government say? Hail to the OFWs! Their remittances have saved the gold reserves of the Central Bank, while we (the government?s slinky hands) steal and steal and steal so three-year-old children don?t have mothers.

Who cares? Our kids have mothers. Kick the freaking kids. We have our gold reserves; the Philippines doesn?t sink into mire. And we stole our share, so on Christmas Day we?re all together and our children recognize us and love us.

Except the OFW.

A friend of mine in Europe, a nurse at a baby delivery emergency room, left her own baby at eight months because her contract called for her to go to Europe now.

After each baby birth she helped with, she would go to another hospital bedroom and cry. And cry. And cry.

Her own Filipino husband told me that story when we all got together to talk about her now 29-year-old baby boy?s forthcoming wedding.

That friend of mine never smiles. There is only one face that is plastered on her head. No smiles, eyes dead, cheeks never moving in any direction even when she eats.

Buhay na patay.

Sociologists, anthropologists and psychiatrists are looking at the impact of such a situation. I already spoke of three-year-olds growing into their 20s without a mother?s caress.

There is a facility in Quezon City named CRIBS, that houses baby orphans in cribs. All they ask for are women to come in their spare time to carry the babies, kiss them and hug them, and say all these baby things we say to babies, like ?uuummm, chuu, chuuu, uummm??

Why? Kids who grow up without a mother?s touch may end up on the other side of society, the side you don?t want.

But what about the OFWs? Respectfully called, I should insist, overseas Filipino workers?

Do you know the miners who were trapped underground in Chile? They were underground for several days. People above them just bore a hole to slide bottles of water and food in, plus cameras and videos of their families to keep them sane.

Very much like the OFWs.

May I quote Time Magazineand say, ?The imprisonment of OFWs is a real time experiment on how the human mind, body and spirit adapt to such an ordeal.? Yes, it is an ordeal to be away from your family just to mine gold.

Trapped miners trying to get out. But why were they in there in the first place? You know why.

All the world watched the trapped miners in Chile. Let?s call the miners OFWs. The OFWs just can?t be carried out, because doing so would make the ground cave in and crush them and they would die.

Time continues to say that the miners? status, according to anthropologists, ?tell us about human behavior and the ways we react when familiar rules and temporary societies must emerge in their place.? You know about the OFWs in Hong Kong, gathering like birds in a square on Sundays. Happily chatting, bringing sinigang, kare-kare, adobo for lunch. They have to build a society of their own in order to forget the society they left at home and the lie that they are living now.

Look at what Time had to say once more about the miners: ?Every stressor known to man is having an impact on those miners. ? they are trying to normalize their situation, giving it a routine, a structure, and a purpose.?

That is what the OFWs in Hong Kong and all around the world do, after they attend Catholic Holy Masses on Sundays. That?s their only day off. That?s their only chance to hold on to God.

The OFWs don?t realize this. All they know is that they are trying ?in a crisis, to do an adaptive strategy? that will keep them sane.

They are trapped.

Away from Celine. Who does not understand why her Mom can?t get out of the mine.

And the government celebrates.

Yup. Buhay na patay.

Think about it.