CLIPPED VOICE

Let me call it “D-Day” - November 05 2008 for this day will never be forgotten. The reason is simple it is because it was the day wherein an African-American was elected as the “world’s most powerful man” or simply put as THE President of the United States of America. This victory of a person classified as belonging to a minority race started the “Obama-fever”. His triumph sounded around the globe; allies and enemies of America greeted this young Senator from Illinois.

Strictly speaking the “Obama-fever” started way before the election proper. It started I think when Barrack was elected as the official Presidential candidate for the Democratic Party. His rose to success was a like a net that caught everyone. And when he became “THE PRESIDENT” everyone thought that they know him – a bit or pretty well.

Why the attention? Barrack Obama based on a bit of research came from the working class. He toiled hard to receive an education – well a very good one! As written by Ms. Melanie Lim (Sunstar November 09, 2008) “the man who in his life seemed to have made all the right decisions”. To make it sound Filipino, he came from the “working Masa” (sounds familiar) and rose up to the ladders of success. A typical rags to riches runt. Now, as America faces the threat of diving deeper into economic crisis this man is seen as the silver lining on the horizon. A man that might turn their (American) stale bread of joblessness to something that is sweet as before. Hence, with this governing ambiance the young Senator from Illinois has toppled the “experienced Republican” – John McCain.

This “hyper-fever” reminds me of some events here in the country. That time was when the impeachment for Mr. Estrada has driven the country wild. Everyone searched for the silver lining. And the appetite for a new leader was felt within the corners of the Government’s key players. The stacking up of desires to change the existing Government bloated and exploded during the dramatic vote not to open the second envelope. Pushed by disgust the people marched to EDSA to make another historic move to protest and manifest the voice of the many that hated the current leader of the land. Backed up thousands of activists, the church, the politicians and finally the military – the then Vice-President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo became the 14^th President of the Republic. She was the hope for a better nation. She manifested the salvation of the ailing Juan dela Cruz. Years later, some of the people that helped her to be in power became the force that keeps on asking her to step down. With her Presidency plotted by enormous attempts of impeachment, with the dwindling down of the economy, with the “Hello Garci”, with the ZTE, and now the return of “Joc-Joc” Bolante would or might add another garbage to her reputation; these are some reasons that causes her survey to plummet. Her Presidency, is attached with so many controversies that serve like a mantra for her own destruction. And henceforth, the People looks for another silver lining or for some they have grown tired of staring at the horizon that offers nothing but temporary euphoria.

Being in the local setting another event dawned on me. The 2007 election was an event similar to that of the recently concluded election in the United States. It was the battle between a new face on the Provincial race and the wife of the former Congressman. “A fight of David and Goliath” as my mentor wrote in Inquirer. Mr. Doloy was considered the underdog. He never held any seat of power long enough for he was removed from being a Mayor due to a citizenship issue in Oras Eastern Samar. But on the other side stood Mrs. Libanan backed by her husband political machinery. She also did not hold any office in the government but shadowed her husband in his political spoils. She shadowed her husband until she herself became like him and when the time was right she replaced him to continue what his imminent husband (Ex-Cong Nonoy Libanan) started. Given the present circumstance I can compare Mr. Doloy to Barrack Obama for the people of Eastern Samar at that time saw him as the power to alleviate them from the pit. The Estehanons I think were tired of the incumbent leader and feared that his wife might follow through. Although Mrs. Libanan was a force to be reckoned but the “hyper-fever” of the people of Eastern Samar to change gave in for the victory of Mr. Doloy. A year later of being in power Mr. Doloy’s re-election is in doubt as mentioned by one the old men in our barangay in one of their afternoon sessions. I think this is too early to even have a thought of that? I hope it is not because of in competency. I for my part don’t know. What I know is that I am so disgusted with the Province’s expanding thousand lakes and that for me is an enough.

What is my intention in writing this? Simple, I just would like to chisel out a fact that politicians can never be trusted. The events that I mentioned came into my consciousness as the world is in the “Obama-fever” seeing him as the man that would solve Global warming, Iraq war, Terrorism. et.al. The solution to one’s problem is not contained within the perpetual image of our
”kuracha dancing politicians”. Our problems can be resolved as long as we make the right decision of who to put into power. It’s too early to discuss about 2010 and too early to assume that the Senator from Illinois is one of them. I just wish that the “Obama-fever” unlike my examples would not die down and that the world would indeed see him as a leader. I sure do but hope no more…

Being divorced from my favorite pastime which is news eaves-dropping brings such nostalgia to my searching mind. Hence, I thought of scanning the archives of our bookshelves in our boarding house. It was the 23^rd August 2008 issue of the Inquirer that I saw a man in white face down in a tarmac. It was obvious that the man was the famous senator “Ninoy” - his death dubbed as the crime of the century. “Ah so maybe it was the reason why there was a holiday on August”. (Not so sure though!) I hope I am not wrong.

I never met Senator Benigno Aquino because for the obvious reason that I was not yet born. But his fame lives up until now. The man whose death awakened the Filipino’s battered spirit to fight against the tyranny of the “Conjugal Dictatorship”. His works, his speech, I have recited in some oratorical contest were and until now held precious. He was the man who went against the tide. But was put to silence on his glorious homeward return.

In spite of Senator Aquino’s works and death I bet few have realized its significance – especially the Filipino youth who are “worth dying for”. We forgot or more flagrantly we simply don’t mind at all. A thing of the past as one would put it. A culture of the youth nowadays that weakens the spirit of Nationalism. I met a friend from my hometown and he manifests this culture in his words “why should I care if nothing will change and I cannot change anything”. We kill the man (Ninoy) all the more and we pluck out the noble cause of his death by being indifferent to what is happening to our country.

Like Ninoy several people have died in the fight for truth to reign and justice to be served to all people. I myself being a person who see the world as they are have meet a lot of friends and mentors that lived their lives following what Ninoy started. But like the man they were executed by “assassins” or by “whosoever”. Like Ninoy their death are piled up as events of the past – forgotten. And unfortunately same as Ninoy their death have not been resolved.

Why do I write?I write of that old newspaper that I read. The paper that contained the news for the man named Benigno. The man that reminded me of my mentors that died doing his similar works. I write to unfreeze my stuck up ideology and awakened again those suppressed tongues.I write because the years of seeking justice (being hunted myself) have proven to be unfruitful. All sparks of hope turned out to be mirage in a desert sea. Pre-meditated dead-ends to weary down the souls of those who seek for Justice. Giving up, would be the logical choice because the odds of putting the true criminals behind bars are odds that are in vain.

Today, it has come to me that the search for the resolution of their death must be done in a different manner. Ninoy and my mentor Atty. Bocar (of Eastern Samar) only hoped for a future that is bright for “Juan dela Cruz”. A future with true leaders whose concern is for the “common tao” and with the self-sacrificing virtue in them. In stead of “soul-searching” for their assailants who put them to rest which have proven to be a mimic of Mt. Everest. Then, why don’t we focus on their work. Focus in building the a better nation, focus in electing real leaders and focus in uprooting corruption in our homes, barangays, municipality, province and this country. This action would I know be efficient and pragmatic at the moment. Because moving on of one death and taking up the cause of this would indeed do a greater meaning of their slumber. Those human rights activist and Ninoy would I know be glad if we would a speck of realization to change.

the suns passed with the moons and the stars,
but still hope i know is afar,
the clouds ran by,
but our hearts still sigh.

the farmers toil the land harder,
the workers to work - dying slower,
the student’s oppressors grew worser,
no RED orb - a chance for something better.

years have passed but their case remains still,
justice a concept they can’t feel,
their bodies rot,
but their soul in here sat.

they were my friends - indeed,
they were my mentors - i bid,
nay their life ended,
in a swift violent swing - horrid!

the wicked small witch promised,
that executors will be punished,
but then suns and moons passed,
nothing, nothing in emptiness we basked.

time now reveals the monarchy’s dullness,
to solve the crime they’d caress,
for how can one prove,
when themselves are guilty then resolve.

i honour the warriors of the RED orb,
that in battle their lives were robbed,
seeking justice i will not pursue from the witch,
for it’s a garment that she’ll not stitch.

nay the warrior’s sacrifice is not wasted,
for us whom they enlightened,
will bring the SICKLE of justice to the guilty,
and the HAMMER to destroy them firmly.

i will spread the word,
my turn to take up the sword,
my turn to labour,
and bring the red orb to its honour…

Had a dream last night, in it I met an old man. In a bedazzled state my feet draw me nearer to him. The seemingly blank horizon turned up to me as images of ten people segregated, one to the left and the other on the right. The man turns to me and said, “sit down and tell me the difference between the one on the left to the other?” The experience was odd but I sat there caught up in a peculiar state wherein the only sound that I can hear was that of my heart. I stared at the men in front me, all dressed in their immaculate “barongs” and some in American business attire. They all had the same body size, face, and basically everything. I realized that I was staring at one person that may have been multiplied to ten. Not seeing anything to distinguish one from the other or worst, the one group to the other I gave up and told the old man that there was none. He looked at me in his teary eyes and narrated a story that I will never forget. “Son, I have been in this chair for one hundred nine years. Yes, I have been staring at similar people that aged in time but remained to have the capacity to place a person similar to them in that pedestal. I stand as a witness to their exchanges but all remains to be the same, and I continue to be nailed in this rotting chair while they sit there in gold. Many times they have asked me to cooperate to what they say, but their words remains to be tucked in their mouths. And, their hands on what I produce. My son, they are the same because they have masked themselves well in false good which we enjoy in a short span of time but pass on the suffering to our children’s children.” As the old man pause, I saw a rushing multitude moving in front us. They shouted with so much vigor cursing the ones on the pedestal. As fast as they came so also was the speed when they left being chased by hungry dogs in green. Their voice unlocked something within me. Their cries awaken a burning flame in my soul. They sharpened my senses that when I stared back to the men in the pedestal I saw the difference in them. They came again but chased out again by much bigger dogs. This pattern continued on. And, every time they leave I feel that my eyes became brighter and the rest of my senses are honed up. What I saw then on my front was men standing sitting in a golden chair but smelled like corpse and rot. They now have the demonic smiles which appeared to me at first and benign. They now have their horns that at first I thought were just slick hair. And as I stare at the old man I realized that he was thinner with a weaker voice. I asked him, “why would you not join?” The old man answered me, “It is time to pass on the light!” Baffled, I further inquired since I did not know what to do.

“Father, to whom would I lend a hand?”

“To those who need you.”

“Who needs me?”

“The people!”

“I surely, would not want to live my life like them who continually runs!”

“My son, it does not matter what you do. What matters is that you sleep at night knowing that you did something for the people with your conscience that is clear. Even if your stomach growls. I pass on to you the light. It is up to you to sit for the rest of your life like what I did and cause the suffering of the future, or fight for the truth to rule?”

A dream that will continue to be, if not attended…

Mark Sway

TO THE GIRL THAT I WOULD MAKE MYSELF LATE EVERY MORNING IN ORDER FOR ME TO BE ABLE TO SEE HER…

Dearest,

In a solitary state I was consumed bit by bit for eight years. Moments of pain, grief, and suffering were the impulses that gave meaning to my meager life of inadequacy. I waited for a flash of light that can alleviate me from the state of inexistence that I was confined. I dreamed and wished to see the cause for my soul to rejoice. The cause for me to be inspired and be triumphant amidst the gloom that wrapped me up. I stare at the blue sky to find for a piece of peace knowing that someday, somehow, I’ll find the one that I can share the beauty of life with. The one that would break the darkness that veils over me and bring in the dawn of joy to my crude self.

Indeed, those were years of hardships that I endured before I managed to be set free. Nevertheless, for what cause is it that I am free? When after going out in looking for my princess further grief envelops me as I live the life of the outside reality. I search on this world of the unimaginable. Each day, I spend moments of wasted time to stare at this material creation hoping that I would find the reason for me to rejoice. Hoping to see the face that could give my life a new pulse. I hold on to something of immaterial, unfelt and unsure reality. The abstract, the bleak fallacy of hope - that I can be with that woman that I never saw before but dreamed of. To be sure that she is there against the immense reality that I am just dreaming. In search for the princess that would complete me. But this pursuit now seem so illogical. I long to find an angel that can’t possibly exist. I waver because I feel, my search was in vain. Will I let go? Will I just go back - a looser? Or will I continue to be a knight in quest for someone who remains to be a fabric of a wild fantasy. I move on and hope…

But at last - you are real! How would I describe my first encounter? Would I say, "alas, she came then blah, blah, blah,?" Would I ryhme with the poets with words such as" "emmanating radiance dawned upon me and it was her that I saw?" I would not! For I don’t intend to snare you with sweet high fallutin exaggeration of letters… To illucidate how I feel are mere rubbish because no right word, in the right sense can just simply limit how I felt by its description. I found you… But you are beheld by a love that came before me.

All these words, these phrases are nothing and means nothing now for they are just a hush against a surging fact. I can’t have you! I can’t have the hand of the Princess that I have seeked. Eventhough, I will continue to stare at you from a distant. I will still be veiled by the feeling of elation that I felt that 15th day of May 2007 when I first saw you. When I saw your smiles…

My Angel, I am now a "no-one" in this world undefined because of a lost meaning. A passing stanger in your realm that noticed your beauty. A knight that saw the diadem in your smiles. I know my role, thus i say goodbye…

By the way I am,

Anthony Cepeda

LOSING HOPE!

The hardships I encountered,

Were all that spent to be molded,

Were all that I undergo for the principle,

For me to be a faithful disciple.

Mountains, hills I crossed,

I did not expect to encounter,

These mounts of difficulties that aroused,

But these did not hinder!

The sky was bright as I see,

Hope for the farmers – I want the key,

The days became empty.

As my principles went to hay.

I continue to dream of the day,

Were all we’ll be contented and gay,

But my will is so low – can’t say,

When can I end the sufferings – its nay!