Manila Peninsula Drama

"Naglunch lang si Senador sa Manila Pen", replied one member from my Samasa Yahoogroups when somebody from abroad asked for a news update from back home.

It was anecdotal of the short lived attempt of Senator Antonio Trillanes and Brig. Gen. Danilo Lim to mount revolt against what they call a bogus President who won in an election marred by massive cheating. When he called for people's support to come to Makati after he walked out of the Makati City regional trial court, personalities identified with the opposition arrived in Manila Peninsula Hotel, like former Vice Pres. Teofisto Guingona, Novaliches Bishop Antonio Tobias, Infanta, Quezon Bishop Emeritus Julio Labayen, former University of the Philippines president Francisco Nemenzo, "running" priest Robert Reyes, columnist Herman Tiu Laurel and Atty. Argee Guevarra among others. Of course media people have been with them from the start of their court hearing and marching all the way to Manila Peninsula for a blow by blow coverage that ended having themselves handcuffed and dragged to Camp Bagong Diwa in Taguig City along with the Magdalo soldiers.

Listening from one radio station to another as I drove back to Makati at the height of the incident, I heared the Phil. National Police Chief appeal to different media management to recall their personnel from the scene as they are about to engage with the holed up soldiers whose numbers almost equal with the media men covering them. Then I thought of the media person's moral obligation to be truth tellers, their constitutionally guaranteed vocation to freely inform the public of matters that concern them, just as the police has also the obligation to protect them while doing their duties. In a typical war, journalists, like members of the Red Cross, are not a potential enemy but allies of both warring parties in their pursuit for truth and human well-being.

As a student of journalism, I personally deplore the act of removing cameras from the TV crews and all forms of communication gadgets that were instruments of a continuous truth-telling work. Even more, the move to handcuff journalists suspecting them as Magdalo soldiers in disguise, those distinguishable faces you watch daily on TV, is the height of police ignorance, if not blind obedience at the expense of violating the basic rights of journalists to perform their duties protected by the Bill of Rights specifically Section 4 and Sec. 7.

I sympathize with the cause of Sen. Trillanes for a corruption free, morally upright governance-- who else doesn't want that? Church leaders even call for it, senators and congressmen, too. But counter such media grandstanding in a high-end hotel with Simba armoured personnel carrier (APC), handcuff teargassed journalists and declare curfew at 12 midnight until 5:00am? If this is not what we locally call "kapraningan" or "sobra naman" then this might just be the beginning of the end of a story that should never be told.

Nakakahiya na kasi!

November 8

“Walang sino man ang nabubuhay para sa sarili lamang… Walang sino man ang namamatay para sa sarili lamang.” Thus says the priest in a mass I attended an hour ago. What brings me to Church?

Well, I have decided to serve as an altar boy. I wore a long, white garment with a little bell on the side. I genuflect as I cross the altar, palms clasped at each other on my chest, sometimes panning an electric fan wherever the priest would go. That was me in sixth grade at my home town in Iloilo. But that was long time ago.

What really brought me to church today is THIS DAY. Yes, today is my birthday, and it has been my family’s tradition that a birthday celebrator should go to Church and hear mass. Way back then, when church bells were still louder and carried an awe at every “basal”, my mother would wake me up at 4:30am so I could hear the 5:00am mass. But that is not the case today. Away from home for so long, work up to my neck, my only window would be the 6:00pm mass. So I went to a church not far away, actually a church that’s just across my window for I live beside a church.

St. Joseph the Worker Parish in Palanan, Makati, is also where I would always see Atty. Rene Saguisag, who met a tragic accident early this morning with his wife, Dulci, dead. Always, because he seem to be attending the 6:00pm mass every day, and that’s the only hour of the day I see him each time I arrive home early evenings. Today, he is never in his usual place. Often, he would just stand at the door side, holding a rosary. I never saw him get inside but I presume he had. With his busy schedule I guess, he will only drop off, pray, get along with the mass and get back to his waiting car parked near the main entrance of the Church facing Dian Street. Parishioners today certainly can feel the queer emptiness at his favorite spot of the church, missing the familiar smile and “hello sir” greet that I also do when our paths cross. The priest has only good words to say about him. Most people in the parish say he is kind, humble and religious. I agree, and add that he is so ordinary-- though I base my judgment on what I merely see. I have heard of his accomplishments as a human rights lawyer, but I come to know him more as Rene Saguisag who would always stand by the church's door holding a Rosary at 6:00pm mass daily just across my parking space.

This day, I went to church not so much to thank God for the life He gave me 38 years ago. I prayed for the life of Atty. Rene Saguisag, a remarkable human rights activist and churchmate, and for the soul of his beloved wife, Dulce.