Saturday, October 30, 2010

Animal

 Akda ni Richard A. Policarpio


Ilan na nga ba ang nagtumaas at nagtumayog?
Naghari-harian sa sariling gawang bantayog
Tila diyos na sinamba, akala mo sa mundo'y syang humubog
Ngunit kimpal at tipak sa kaban ng yaman sa kanila'y bumusog.

Madlang alipin ng paghihirap di alam saan titingin
Sikmurang kumakalam, halos mata'y naduduling
Di makaganti ni makalaban sa hayop na kapiling
Bibig na binusalan, luha'y dugo sa impit na hiyaw--ang syang daing.

Silang gahaman sa yaman at kapangyarihan
Luhuran mo man patuloy kang yuyurakan
Silang mga hayop na tila naglipana
Walang sinasanto-- walang Binabathala

Doon sa harap ng tunay na Hari
Na walang pinipili at walang itinatangi
Lahat ay magsusulit, lahat ay may ganti
Silang mga busog makuha pa kayang ngumiti?!
 

(c) 2010, Richard A. Policarpio

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Saving Sumatra

via Greenpeace Philippines Blogger Group


Indonesia- During his recent visit to Indonesia, Kumi Naidoo (Greenpeace International Executive Director) and a Greenpeace team flew over Sumatra to bear witness to the forest destruction that is happening there. Indonesia and Norway now have a chance to change history and to end the destruction of Indonesia's rainforests and carbon-rich peatlands.

Watch the multimedia presentation here.

Save our forest from destruction. Act now.

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Nang Yumakap ang Pasko

 Akda ni Richard Policarpio

Simoy ng mabangong hangin na sadyang kaylamig
Tumatagos sa pusong titibok-tibok at pipintig-pintig
Hatid ay pagpapala sa taong may tapat na dalangin
Na sa kanyang puso ay kabutihan ang sumasalamin.

Sa likod ng bundok makikitang nakakubli
Ang papasikat at kaakit-akit na liwanag ay nariyan nang muli
Binabadya'y malaking galak sa taong bukas ang kamay
Sa kapwa ay tugon ang lubos na pagdamay.

Araw ng Pasko’y nalalapit na
Sa pista ng mundo, ang mga tahanan ay sagana.
Bawat puso ay muling mahahagkan
Yayakapin ng madlang ligayang di mapapantayan

Ang banal at ang makasalanan ay muling napag-ugnay
Pinuspos ng pagpapala sa pag-ibig na tunay.
Nang ang Hari na sa krus nabayubay,
Bigyan ng diwa ang pagmamahal na kanyang inalay.

(c) Richard Policarpio, Oktubre 20, 2010.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Dance For Cause: Thrill the World 2010



via Greeanpeace Philippines Blogger Group


Greenpeace has been chosen as the beneficiary of Thrill the World: an annual worldwide simultaneous dance of Michael Jackson's "Thriller" for world record and charity. The event will be held on October 23, 2010, seven in the evening at CCP Complex, Pasay City.

Worldwide preparations are underway to break a world record. “Thrill the World 2010” is a worldwide attempt to break the World Record for the Largest Simultaneous Dance to Michael Jackson’s Thriller.

Thrill the World! Invite friends, families, and other local residents to join the event with thousands of other people around the globe.


BREAK THE RECORD! DANCE FOR CAUSE!

Monday, October 18, 2010

Literatura at Pagguhit: I Could, I Could not

"Ang pagsusulat ay libangan, isang pagbibigay buhay sa nararamdaman ng isang tao- sa paggamit ng mapanuring ekspresyon sa salita, paglubid ng mga natatanging kataga at metapora, maayos na naipadarama ng may akda ang kanyang saloobin o saloobin ng ibang tao bilang inspirasyon nya."





I could, I could not

By Ian Fiedalan

I could write you beautiful sonnet or prose;
I could paint your face multi-coloured
Brimming with artist's allegiance to life and love;
I could sing to you the rhyme from ardent wind that carries lover's whisper;
But my pen had run out of ink;
My hand had failed;
My voice had disappeard.
I cried last night as I held my canvas;
And the letters were marred with tears; My guitar, out of tune.
I woke up-a blank canvas, a crumpled paper and a dried ink at my side;
I strummed my guitar, it cried.
(c) 2009

Friday, October 15, 2010

Maikling kwento: Luha ng Kahapon


Akda ni Ian Fiedalan


Unang inilathala sa publikasyong pangmag-aaral sa isang unibersidad, ang kwentong ito ay repleksyon ng kasalukuyang suliranin sa paglabag sa karapatang-pantao. Ang mga tauhan, lunan at pangyayari ay kathang-isip lamang. Si tandang Ador, isang tauhan sa kwento ay sumasalamin sa patuloy na suliranin sa extra-judicial killings. Ang akdang ito ay para sa  mga taong nagbuwis ng kanilang buhay para sa ikabubuti ng marami. Ang tumayo at ipaglaban ang tamang katwiran. Isang pagbubunyi sa karapatang pagpapahayag ng ekspresyon at ikondena ang mali.


Marso noon. Nakakapaso ang init ng kapahunan. Maalinsangan din ang hanging dumadampi sa aking balat. Ang panahon ay nakikisimpatya sa kalungkutan na bumabalot sa kanayunan. Lungkot na nakakabagabag.

Hindi lang pala ako ang nagbalik sa lugar ng aking pagkabata. Isa-isa ring nagbalikan sa aking gunita ang mga alaala ng lumipas na panahon— ang mga lunan, pangyayari at mga personahe ng nakaraang kabanata ng istorya ng aking kahapon.

Sa batis na iyon madalas akong tumungo at magmuni-muni. Ang lagaslas ng tubig ay himig ng kapayapaan. Ang himig na binigyan pa ng buhay mula sa tunog ng langitngit ng kawayan at ingay ng mga kulisap. Dito ang aking takbuhan kapag ako'y may problema. Sa lugar kung saan nagiging panatag ang aking kalooban. Malayo sa ingay at kaguluhang likha ng tao. Paraiso kung maituturing.

Doon ay aking isinasagawa ang kakaibang ritwal upang mawala ang anumang problemang aking pinapasan. Uupo  sa batuhan dala ang kapirasong papel at panulat. Matiyaga ko’ng isusulat sa papel ang mga ito at nang matapos ay ginagawa ko namang mumunting bangka. Dahan-dahan akong lalapit sa batis at ipaaanod ito. Kung saan man tumungo ang bangkang papel kasama rin ang aking dala-dalang mga suliranin...

Marami na ngang pagbabago. Ang daan tungo sa dating masukal na lugar na madalas kong sinusuyod tuwing dapit-hapon ay maaliwas na at natabasan. Wala na ang dating malawak na parang kung saan ako at aking mga kaibigan ay madalas na nagpapalipad ng guryon. Pumalit dito ang mangilanngilang bahay na nakapalibot sa kampo ng sundalo.

Matatag pa ring nakatayo ang puno ng akasya sa gawing kanluran ng parang. Para bagang ito lamang ang nag-iisang saksi sa anumang kaganapang hindi kayang itala sa gunita.

Bigla ko ring naalala si Lina. Noong nasa ikalimang baiting ako, doon ko inukit ang kanyang pangalan. Ang paghanga sa kanya ay hindi ko maitago. Mahaba ang kanyang buhok, mapupungay ang mata at napakabait pa. Sayang, hindi ko na s’ya nakita pa matapos ang pagtatapos sa paaralan. Nasan na kaya s’ya ngayon?

“O iho, kailan ka pa dumating mula sa lungsod?” Si tandang Ador pala. Bahagya ko pang ikinagulat ang kanyang pagtatanong na pumutol sa daloy ng mga gunita.

Bata pa kami’y iyon na ang nakagawian tawag sa kanya— tandang Ador. Ang matanda’y tila hindi tumatanda. Sa katunayan, sa sampung taon na nakalipas ay halos walang nagbago sa itsura niya maliban sa ilang marka ng guhit sa noo.

“Aba’t natatandaan n’yo pa po pala ako?,” tugon ko.

“Ay lintik na batang a-re, paanong hindi ay madalas mong kunin ang mga bungang kakaw sa likodbahay. Saan ka ba nagpunta at ang putik ng iyong mga paa?”

Pilit kong hinagilap ang iba pang gunita ng aking kabataan na may kinalaman kay tandang Ador ngunit liban sa kanyang paminsan-minsang kwento tuwing tanghali at manaka-naka ring pananaway ay wala na akong maalala.

Tanging ang boses na kakakakitaan ng tapang ang siyang tumanin sa aking isipan. Tapang na hindi ko maramdaman ngunit aking nababatid sa kanyang mga kwentong punong-puno ng pakikipagsapalaran. Mga kwento iyon na naglalarawan ng kagitingan alang-alang sa pagtatanggol sa kapwa at sa bayan. Sa murang gulang ay naintindihan ko ang ibig sabihin ng mga labanan na nagaganap sa pagitan ng mga sundalo at NPA. Kung anumang pagsasalarawan sa mga nangyayaring putukan, takot pa rin ang nangibabaw sa akin. Takot na sa bawat engkwentro, may mamamatay.

Ngunit ang pilit ko pa ring inuunawa ay kung bakit nagagalit si tatay sa akin tuwing darating ako nang halos takip-silim na.

“Ikaw bata ka, bakit hinapon ka na naman? Di ba’t sabi ko’ng ‘wag kang pupunta sa burol?” Bulyaw ni tatay sa akin isang hapon.

“Hindi naman po. Dumaan lang ako kina tandang Ador. May binigay s’yang tirador sa akin. Tingnan n’yo po, ang ganda ng pasanga na napili n’ya. Yari sa punong bayabas.” Nangatwiran pa ako sa pag-aakalang makaliligtas ako sa nagbabadyang galit ni tatay. Akala ko ay ayaw lamang talaga niyang aabutin ako ng dilim sa labas lalo pa nga at nasa burol ako. Sa aking pakiwari’y lalo pa siyang nagalit nang malamang galing ako kay tandang Ador.

“Hoy Arnel, hindi ka na kumibo?”

“Ah, diyan pos a batis nagpahangin..”

“Balita ko sa iyong ina ikaw daw ang magsasalita sa darating na pagtatapos ng mga mag-aaral bukas?”

“Opo munting mensahe para sa mga bata.” Muli kong tugon.

“Hintayin mo ako ha? Huwag kang magsisimula hangga’t wala ako doon.” Pangiting biro niya.

Nagpaalam ako sa kanya ng hapon ding iyon. Madilim na ang kapaligiran nang marating ko ang bahay mula sa maghapong pag-iikot. Pinuntahan ko rin kasi ang aking mga kabarkada na karamiha’y may kanya-kanya na ring pamilya.

Nakakatawang isipin ngunit parang kalian lamang nang naliligo kami sa ulan habang nagtitiliw ng palaka. Halos mamatay sa takot si Hector nang akmang dadakmain ang napagkamalang palaka na isa palang bayawak.

Kinabukasan, nakita ko’ng bakante ang kanyang upuan.

“Absent si Hector. May liham ang kanyang ina at nabanggit na itong si Hector ay nagbabad sa paliligo sa ulan kaya nagkasakit. Kayo, mga bata huwag kayong magbababad sa ulan. Baka matulad kayo kay Hector,” wika ni Bb. Cruz, ang aming maestra.

Hindi kaya sa takot kaya nilagnat itong si Hector at hindi sa paliligo sa ulan?


___________



Tahimik ang gabing iyon. Nakakabingi ang tunog ng bawat tik-tak mula sa orasan. Alumpihit sa higaan, muli akong bumangon upang tunguhin ang kusina. Sa sobrang alinsangan ay halos matuyo ang aking lalamunan.

Binuksan ko ang bintana upang makapasok ang hangin sa silid. Mula roon natatanaw ko ang kalangitang namumulaklak ng mga bituin. Maliwanag sa labas bagama’t hindi kabilugan ng buwan.

Sa kalayuan ay may natanaw akong parang gumagalaw. Anino ng tao? Multo? Hindi.. matanda na ako para maniwala sa mga maligno at anu-ano pang kwentong halimaw. Marahil ay guni-guni ko lang iyon. Muli akong bumalik sa pagkakahiga at pinasadahan ng pagbabasa ang talumpating aking bibigkasin kinabukasan.




“..Ngayon ay panibagong simula. Unti-unti n’yong buuin ang inyong pangarap. Sapagkat ang buhay ay isang napakahabang paglalakbay..”

Bakit wala si tandang Ador? Akala ko ay manonood s’ya ng pagtatapos ng mag-aaral? Siguro’y dahil sa katandaan, nakalimutan na nya na ngayon ang araw na ito.

Natapos ako sa talumpati at bumaba ng entablado.

“Arnel.. Arnel! Nabalitaan mo nab a ang nangyari kagabi sa bahay ni tandang Ador?” Si Hector.

“Bilis halika, puntahan natin!”

Nakita si tandang Ador kaninang mag-uumaga na wala ng buhay. Kwento ni Mang Simon, papunta s’ya sa bahay ni Tandang Ador upang humiram ng lagari ngunit nang ilang mga minutong walang sumasagot, nalamang bukas ang pinto at nang buksan tumambad sa kanya ang walang buhay na si Tandang Ador.

Nakahandusay ang katawan na tadtad ng saksak. Nakatali ang kamay. Mangitimngitim na pasa sa mukha. Sino ang maaaring gumawa nito? Walang kagalit ang matanda…

Si tatay ang nagpaliwag sa naguguluhan kong isipan. Ayon sa kanya, si Tandang Ador ang namumuno sa mga mamamayang tumututol sa pagtatayo ng minahan sa bayan ng San Martin. Marahil dito, iniuugnay sya ng mga sundalo sa opensiba ng NPA laban sa kanila. Marami pang kwento si tatay patungkol sa matanda. At wala naman akong nakikitang masama sa ginawa ni tandang Ador. Para sa kanyang kapwa rin ang isinusulong nyang pakikibaka.

Kung walang nagsalita laban sa pagmimina noon marahil tuluyan nang nasira ang mga burol. Marahil nadaluyan na rin ng nakalalasong kimikal ang batis. O naligwakan ng putik ang daloy ng mga patubig sa kabukiran. Marahil dumalaw din ang delubyo ng baha na kikitil sa ilang buhay dulot nang patuloy na pagpuputol sa kakahuyan sa kabundukan.

Kung totoong sangkot nga sya sa mga NPA, ang pinakatamang gawin ng mga awtoridad ay sampahan s’ya ng kaso at litisin ng patas sa harap ng hukuman. Hindi ba’t batas naman dapat ang umiral? Ang batas na dapat ipinatutupad ng mga alagad ng pamahalaan.

Bakit pinapatay ang nagtatanggol sa katwiran? Bakit siniselyohan ang bibig ng mga taong nagsasalita laban sa pamahalaan at maling pamamalakad nito? Maraming tanong na nanuot sa aking kamalayan. Isang kaganapan na di ko maiwaksi sa aking pag-iisip.

Walang malapit na kamag-anak si tandang Ador. Upang mabigyan ng maayos na libing, pinagtulungtulungan ng mga kababaryo ang mga bayarin. Si nanay na mismo ang nag-asikaso sa lahat nang dapat gawin. Nais din ng aking magulang na mabigyan sya ng marangal na burol.

Ngayon ko lang napasok ang kabuuan ng loob ng bahay. May ilang kasangkapan, bilang ng mga libro at baul. Madilim at masalimoot ang paligid. Pinagkaitan ng liwanag. Sa isang sulok ay may maliit na mesa. Maalikabok. Madumi.

Heto, ang aklat ay buhay pa rin. Lipunan at Rebolusyong Pilipino? Eto ang madalas niyang basahin sa akin tuwing dumaraan ako sa bahay niya. Habang iniisa-isa ko ang pahina, isang pirasong papel ang nalaglag sa sahig. Dali-dali kong pinulot ito. Isang liham. Manilawnilaw na sa kalumaan. Umupo ako sa gilid ng tarangkahan at binasa:

Aking anak, patawad ngunit kailangan kitang ipaalaga sa ibang tao.Hindi ko gustong mapahamak ka. Mahirap ang sitwasyon natin. Alam kong di mo maiintindihan ang ginagawa ko sa ngayon. Darating din ang panahon at mauunawaan mo ang prinsipyong ipinaglalaban ko. Basta’t tatandaan mo na lagi akong narito Abner. Anak ko, para sa iyo rin at sa mga batang tulad mo kung bakit ko ito ginagawa. Gusto ko sana paglaki mo ay manaig ang na ang katwiran, wala nang pang-aapi..

“O Arnel bakit nariyan ka? Tulungan mo ako ditto. Pakidala ng mga baso dito sa labado. Ang hiyaw ni nanay.

Lumapit ako kay nanay habang nangingilid ang aking luha.

“Nay nabasa ko po ang sulat ni tandang Ador. Naiintindihan ko.. Hindi po ako nagagalit.”

(c)2005

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Of Dickinson's and the Treasure Box


I remember Emily Dickinson’s poem in my high school English class in this line: there is no frigate like a book to take us lands away. But I consider book the magical gate to paradise; through reading I have gone far to Alaska, South Africa and the North Pole. Places where I could not go, but made possible through my imagination. I have seen people, both the living and the dead. Magical.

But what exactly makes a good book is not only how it stirs our imagination; it also serves as the very source of learning. It inspires us.

In time, I have acquired a few adorable reads. Here are some of my treasures:

  • Courage of Their Convictions, Peter Irons 1988. Published in 1988, it is a compilation of stories of people—ordinary people who fought for their rights all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court. This book is a remarkable account on the legal battles that shaped, remolded, and refined fundamental rights. Normally, books today discuss only legal arguments on the most celebrated cases. Peter Irons goes beyond by touching the most personal life of the people involved in the case.


  • Censorship and Freedom of Expression: Essays on Obscenity and the Law, Several authors 1971.  Covers arguments based on different perspective. Be it legal, political, ethical, religious and psychological, authors have attempted to enlighten readers on the most debatable topic of censorship and freedom of expression.

  • Death Sentences, Don Watson. 2003. On the preface, the author forewarns the reader: This book was not written in behalf of the language, or by a grammarian on behalf of the grammar. Why we should read this book? It is still timely to understand how the corporate world has revolutionized the language; continuing jargons used in Politics has bred new words contributing in the decay of English language.

  • One-L, Scott Turow 1977. Scott Turow in the celebrated autobiographical sketch of his struggles as first year student at Harvard Law School. Law student, lawyers, and those who aspire to become lawyer will surely love this book.

  • International Ethics, Several authors 1985. Published in 1985, International Ethics is another compilation of essays from Princeton University Press Series of Public Affairs books. Authors’ expertises are on post-Vietnam war issues like the rules on the conduct of war, the significance of national boundaries and the nature of a state’s right not to be interfered with by outsiders, the foundation of international property rights, and the requirements of international distributive justice.




Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Bulong at Katarantaduhan

By: Ian Fiedalan

Hawak nya ay balota sa Halalan
Kuyom ng palad ang mga ngalan ng itatakda
Nakaupo sya sa sulok. Balot ng pawis
Pumipilipit sa sakit ang sikmura
Nang bumubulong ang demonyo at nagwika:
Kumain ka na ba? Pagkain.

Nais nya'y maibsan ang daing ng katawan
Sa taong tagtuyot, ang alok na biyaya ay 'di maiwasan
At ano ang kapalit ng pansamantalang kaibsan?
Itaya ang dangal at isulat ang ngalan sa aklat ni Kamatayan
Sa huli'y singilin ng demonyo na may labis pang interes
Isang katarantaduhan.

Tugon ay HINDI.
Silid sa isipan ang tangis ng supling
Ang dungis na kinasadlakan nilang mga kauri
Sa noo nila'y minarkahan ng sumpa
Kinaligtan ng Pamahalaan matapos pagsamantalahan
Hinubdan ng karapatan!

Muli'y nagmaskara ang demonyo
Bulong ay lubid na kasinungalingan
Nagbalat-kayo nang mapagkamalang isa ring mahirap
Nag-aral bigkasin ang lengwahe ng kahirapan
Kukunin ang loob upang pagnakawan.
Isang katarantaduhan!

Nag-uumigpaw sa galit
Sa silid ay tumungo. Sinulat ang posyon,
Na bubura sa tinuring na sumpa
Simulan ang pagtayo ng bagong lipunan
Pamahalaang magtataguyod sa kanilang karapatan
Walang kasinungalingan.
(c)2010


Greenpeace Philippines releases its Quarterly Newsletter

via Greenpeace Blogger Group

Download the organisation's quarterly newsletter by clicking the link: E-MAGAZINE Know more about their campaign, visit: Greenpeace Philippines.

Climbing the Olympus

By: Ian Fiedalan

My heart goes out to students of Polytechnic University of the Philippines (PUP). With about 65,000 enrollees, the PUP administration looks for a patch of it's finances through tuition fee increase from P12 to P176. This bold step provokes activists and concerned alliances in the community to prevent such imposition. It's not unknown to many that the university caters to students of poor families. These students came not only from urban poor of Manila and its suburbs, but from those students in provinces who wished to enroll and access above standard education as well. Further, the state university offers an array of technical and complete courses making it as one of the choices among public school of higher learning.

I firmly stand to uphold the rights of our youth to have fair access to basic rights which include education. It is our government's obligation to give priority to education as enshrined in Section 17, Article I of the Constitution. How would we be able to accelerate social progress when we are denying the very right which would lead to this goal? This negates the provision that our State shall protect and promote the right of the citizens to quality education at all levels.. (Section 1, Article XIV, 1987 Constitution).

I spent a year in PUP- College of Engineering and Architecture. The scenarios are haunting me still. A humid air depleted my breathing (inadequate ventilation in classrooms). A rocking chair in my minor class which was so irritating. A small size classrooms in main building. And who would have forgotten the most rigid steps in school enrollment that only PUP could offer (took me two days, 11 counting-steps and over a hundred yards of walk in different segments of the campus, unimaginable!)? I have fair shot of all these struggles during my freshman year.

If indeed PUP needs face lift, big chunk of the funds shall go to physical facilities like chairs and fixtures of classrooms, and not to physical landscaping or garden make-overs. While the arguments of the administration are likely acceptable as they say the meager budget it receives from the national government is insufficient and thus a valid recourse is to increase tuition fees; but prudent mind would dictates us that at this economic distress we are all experiencing, to burden our students with fees which are beyond the latter's financial standing is like saying in their faces: you are not welcome here in our school, you poor creature!

Our leaders should review their commitments to education policy as per constitutional instructions. I am not dismissing the idea that deep in their heart, our government people desire nothing but goodness to all. To the school administrators, tuition fee hike is not a viable solution to fiscal inadequacy. To our youth, especially those students who have balls to fight for their rights and actively hurdles challenges, my prayers and sympathy.

Two Years After: An Account on Reproductive Rights and the Feminism

It's been two years since I started my almost one year immersion with WGNRR as intern and volunteer. I am always thankful to their staff to whom I had shared with the thoughts about advocacy and feminist movement. Their passion and dedication to help grassroot organisations, individuals- marginalised women, in-conflict-situation and in rural areas, are immeasurable.


In fine, I could recount the days and night when Jessa, Rish and I had to stay overnight at the office to revise our materials due for deadline on the next day; when I had to labour the next day on radio program editing; but overall, the experience working with these people was like a lifetime treasure.



Saturday, October 9, 2010

Prelude

 By: Ian Fiedalan

Early morning rain tone down the gloom
To wander around, and look for a bloom
The paddies are fed by the brush of the spring
And snail clumsily climbs weed stalk to sing
As the wind moistens her way crossed
Sunlight brusquely shines the gloss.
The south offers view of the towering mountain
To cross borderline, whoever aims?
Silhouette in yellow-orange in beautiful hue
Wait until the sunset completes the view
(c) 2007

In Dreams


By Ian Fiedalan

You walk fast down the hall;
There, you, soul begs to the dark,
Asking for light, let it beckon your weary;
Your crying like child hides your fierce;
Bereft of dignity, like famine.

I come to you in dreams.
And witness the tears feed flakes of skin;
Of lips shiver the utter cold-
Resembling the fate of bleeding feet,
Bespeaks of your affair:

To travel and forget the ruin;
Build a fine stone to protect your tender;
To sail your ship and cross the Atlantic;
Fly like crane and adore the southern mountain;
All In dreams.

I come to see you..
But I lose sight of you.
Dreams.
(c)2010

The Band is Playing for the Dead: An Essay on Philippine Politics

By: Ian Fiedalan


The least I could remember about presidential elections was year 1992; Simple brain function could easily give you answers why? I was just a kid, and dirty politics has yet to unfold before me. But taking you back in 1992, all I remember was Senator Mirriam Defensor Santiago had a knee to knee race with President Ramos. Then the news spreaded out: Ramos was our 12th President of the Republic. Many have speculated however that there was massive election result manipulations; and these were evidenced in a series of election protest, both in local and national posts.


To a nine year old kid, an election protest is an unclear term. I just had a clear picture when I learnt the process in my Election Law subject. 


But stories behind forged partnerships to strip off the name of clean election processes, however, were being retold over and over again for years. Then the truth became myth, and myth will be kept on a good writing. Nothing but a good writing, keep forever in a dark room.


In my innocent mind, holding an election, I believe, was like a big fiesta celebration. Why? You have bands playing music, artista gracing campaign events.. People, I felt, were happy, especially youth who were bestowed of the privilege to vote for the very first time.


I have seen on television youths clamouring for change.


I was eight then all I thought of was how to participate in election; fervently wished that I could vote for my president. That I could somehow raise my voice to let others know of my demand. Now, 26, another national election is coming, I will not vote.


My distaste to Politics is not an overnight affair of brewing hate and awful sentiments. Neither this anchored upon learning in college philosophical theories. Though, whoever gave me ideas that politics is evil, and man is inherently evil had succeeded in convincing me not to venture in politics. Several theories have affirmed my personal choice. Recent events solidify my beliefs.  Everyday events in dailies, radio and television shows echoes the misdeeds. I witnessed the evil myself.


It may sound strange, but true, I seldom engage in political debates. My professor in college would probably have hated me for my meekness.


Like weeks ago, I ran into a family friend. I was driving and saw him walking in the street. I stopped. Greeted him.  And in an inconvenient discourse that followed, he asked whom I would be voting for president.  Believing that he would extract juicy details about politics, he kept on profiling Noynoy, Teodoro, and so on. He paused for awhile, exposing his looks of anticipation. Alas! People believe that I could give them the best political ideas because of my degrees in Political Science and Law. I felt his forehead had wrinkled, showing a sign of dismay when I said I will not vote.


Apathy did not eat me alive. During college, I was part of an organisation which helps first time voters in choosing suitable leaders for our country.  Last time, I checked on the web page, the people who are behind it, or supporting the campaign had been to places far south, delivering the good gospel of political transformation through youth empowerment.  In school, we (student writers) actively (try to) arrest apathy among students, in firm belief that activism should begin in campus. Our university student publication delivered the theme of breaking the silence; though this activism predicates on social responsibility in general, rather than focusing on political sphere.


For me, the right of suffrage has already been a diluted term.


Some scholars believe that the right  is more of a moral obligation, or bounden duty.  My Introduction to Political Science, the preparatory major, taught me several ideas of how this right is vested to people. The law defines the right and creates structuralism in government. My comparative government course gave light to discussions on government structures and processes; Political thoughts and history fed me philosophical undertones about man as political creature. And when somebody asks me on why I am not practicing the right, I say: May be I have forgotten the truest meaning of the right.

 
What my omission has got to do with the output of mechanical-reaction-like processes in societal order that I do not know. But my friend told me once, however good a man is, he will be swallowed by what she called "sistema sa pulitika" once he embraces the league. I stand on almost the same premise but add that my omission would mean not giving my consent. Consent for an individual to do unworthy deeds. Say I could not be blamed for an ousted president, because on the first place, I did not vote for him. In short, my hands are all clean.


I hate pretentious people. Even hating the way politicians deliver their political speech; boast about their great education, great performance; yet the languages they echo were as cold as their non-blooded being. You could feel the imitation from speeches of Luther, or Malcolm X, etcetera.. But like music, the musical score had been broken. Let the dead sing, and you would feel the cold.. The nexus bridging the lyrics and music creates a creaking sound.  This is a classic dead language situation when speech writers gobble the best prose for them. DEAD language for DEAD people.


Weber believes that politics is about bargaining with the evil. I believe him.


When Sen. Lacson said 'he hates politics', I could almost feel the sentiment. He wanted to stay away from political circus. How Sen. Lacson endures the 'hate-my-job' thing that I should ask. Politicians, in several occasions, got deals on issues. In between bargaining, they had forgotten their honoured ideologues. For example, to get votes from Catholics, Mr. Politician will have to disfavour the bill on Reproductive Health. Issues make or break him. The ideas of staying in power compel him to abandon his principles. Why it shouldn't be the other way around— make a stand based on what you believe is right! 


Politicking consume most of my time no matter how hard I try in not engaging to any sort of political activity. We talk about politicians during dinner; In facebook, friends would put status message about Erap, Election 2010, GMA, etcetera; and wherever I go, places I visit, their faces haunt me. In major thoroughfares, markets, public work projects.. Dead people's faces on a beautifully made tarpaulin.


Greed fertilises the very root of Philippine politics. Family members are fighting over one political office; while political dynasties sustain the growing fruit of evil.  At present, politicians running our country are elite people who are there to protect their personal interests, directly or indirectly, through their political privilege. No. Not for the marginalised people living in the mountains, coastal areas, slums, conflict situation areas. 


In 1992 I thought election is like Fiesta. Today, election is All souls Day.


I will not be playing for the Band. I have my own band playing for the people. I live by principle that genuine public service no longer belongs to political sphere. Not in the world run by corrupted minds.