In six years, I reckon I’ll be in no condition to get involved in any election campaign again. In fact I promised myself in 2010 that I’d stay off politics after Noynoy won.
But just when I thought our campaigning days were over, the nation, just one month before the elections, has been plunged into a state of emergency, as my husband diagnosed the situation. What else do you call a situation where a Duterte and (not or!) a Marcos lead for the top positions of the land?
No matter how late in the game, there’s no way serious old fogeys like us could just sit this one out.
Masterful presentation
One day a group of like-minded and like-hearted fogeys came together, and quite serendipitously a daang-matuwid idea was hatched that involved a semiretired journalist with 50 years’ experience. He was enlisted for a sort of town hall in our own barangay to speak on the stakes in the elections.
After a brief but masterful presentation of the story of our democracy by a kagawad, a teacher of history by profession, our journalist came on and began to challenge and provoke his audience of 200 or so homeowners, kasambahay and other household staff in our own and a few neighboring barangay. A lively exchange ensued, one marked by a boldness and openness rarely observed in such a mixed-class audience.
A request came for a second forum for the same communities. That’s where we met a philanthropist couple, no strangers to us, really, who themselves began arranging similar forums elsewhere. Word flew fast, and campuses and civic clubs were themselves booking. Meanwhile, my journalist and I had to set aside our own regular senior concerns.
Due appreciation
I cannot quite understand why Noynoy does not get due appreciation for his strong economic and moral performance, as validated by reliable polls and ratings. And his anointed, Mar and Leni, don’t get their due numbers. It’s a strange disconnect.
To sort out such things, my journalist tells his audiences that straight does not mean perfect: “Ang daang matuwid ay hindi daang perpekto. Walang daang perpekto.”
Indeed, he adds, in societies like ours, in which the distribution of resources and opportunities has been too lopsided, it would take great and sustained effort to strike enough measure of social equity. But understandably, owing to their tremendous privations, the poor might have expected far more of Noynoy.
Still he has made no small accomplishments. Growth, personal income and investor interest have not been higher and steadier.
And do we want wangwang back? Do we want the big crooks freed and the inquiries into anomalies kept secret?
I’m reminded of Noynoy’s mother’s own anointed, Fidel Ramos, who won by a mere plurality but proved himself a hard-working, high-achieving president. He, too, had good ratings, but the nation chose yet to gamble away the fruits of his good government and handed the presidency by a landslide vote to Joseph Estrada, an indolent, fun-loving character who would end up being convicted of plunder. He was followed by the similarly scandal-ridden, nine-year regime of Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo.
It’s almost pathological how we seem to prefer change by radical and reckless measures to a more prudent and more consistent, if slower, pursuit of a good thing. This is why Duterte, who started out as a joke, leads. How, in all conscience, could we remain on the sidelines, even if probably excusable due to age, at a time like this?
Useful counsel
Well, we’ve found a way, as we all must if we can, to contribute to society with philanthropy not only in material terms but also in whatever useful counsel we can dispense. Whether it helps the election or not, surely it cannot be for nothing.
For our own sakes, this possibly absolutely last campaign for us has given us a unique opportunity to be in touch with our less fortunate fellows and to learn that we have a common hope and common dream: a better future for our children and grandchildren. Until our visits to their community, I could only imagine how terrible it must be to be so poor.
Relating her own experience, my dear friend Dr. Chit Reodica, Ramos’ health secretary, who goes around the countryside with her philanthropy, has told me: “After I met the many poor people in the countryside, I could no longer forget their faces. I don’t think I can ever stop trying to do what little I can to help alleviate their plight. They have changed the way I live.”
I have only begun to understand what she means. Until our visits to Leveriza and Pandacan, the poor had no faces and names. I now see them, hear them, and I have realized even more that elections are critical to them.