Moved to Tears

I was teary eyed as I watched the news on television covering the “Million People March” at the Luneta, on the day that government declared a holiday because it was National Heroes’ Day. Memories flashed back in my mind as I watched on television the images of people marching in the same direction.

I remembered 1986 EDSA revolution. I was a young seminarian then, taking up Philosophy and fresh from my Novitiate year. We marched to EDSA in our Dominican habit, and formed human barricades, with fellow Filipinos whom I do not even know, in front of Camp Crame and Camp Aguinaldo. I was there because I believed I can stand to be counted with millions of other Filipinos who wanted to fight for the truth and for what is right. On the night the news broke out that Marcos left the country, we were at the gate of Malacañan Palace, bearing the image of Our Lady of the Rosary – La Naval de Manila. Because of that, I can say that I consider myself a veteran of the EDSA revolution. I was there when People Power happened.

At the “Million People March” last August 26, 2013, news reporters interviewed people on the street and asked them why they were there and what was the cause that they were fighting for. It was generally a call to scrap the pork barrel system in government. Some are disgusted, some are angry, but what the majority really wanted was transparency and accountability on the part of our country’s lawmakers and government leaders, in terms of spending the people’s hard earned money. Because of the scandal of the pork barrel scam, now our country is again divided, and how else, but between the rich and powerful and the poor who are seemingly powerless.

As I watched the news, I was teary eyed because I remembered the school children of Morol Elementary School, in my former parish in the island of Camiguin Norte in the Babuyan Islands. Earlier that morning, I posted on my Facebook account some pictures of the children and their school. Inside a cramped classroom with roof that is rusty and with so many holes, a multi grade class composed of pupils from grades four, five and six, bear the heat of the midday sun with only one teacher. I even posted a caption with the photos that reads: “P-Noy sila ang boss mo, at yan ang klasrum ng mga boss mo.” This island is so remote and these children are so poor that even a piece of pencil is hard to come by. They even have to resort to breaking a pencil into three or four pieces so that each pupil may have a piece of pencil to use.

As the parish priest for three years, I took up the advocacy of sending school supplies every school opening to this remote island in the Babuyan Channel. I have to ask for pencils and pad papers, notebooks and slippers from my friends and even from people whom I have only met through the internet. Gathering the supplies is just half of the story; the other half is transporting it from Manila to the island. A 14-hour bus ride will take those school supplies to Aparri, the northernmost tip of Luzon. It will take another 4 to 8 hours trip on a boat crossing Babuyan Channel. From my parish church on the island, it will take 2 more hours by boat to go around the island and 30 minutes more on foot to be able to reach Morol Elementary School.

How can I not be moved to tears, when this is how difficult it is to help these children, just to be able to finish their education and to fulfill their dreams and aspirations? How I wish our leaders in government realize that.