From Epal Bill to Robredo Bill

The proposed Epal bill should be amended and then passed immediately.  The amendment I want is simple but makes perfect sense.  Instead of the uninspired and rather tasteless “epal” tag, it should be called the Robredo Bill, in honor of the man who, in his time as Mayor of Naga and later Secretary for the Department of Interior and Local Government, defined what government service should be: effective but low-key;  exemplifying the type of service that called attention to the effect and not the action, benefitted constituents and not political allies, and honored the people not the self -- the antithesis of how so many politicians behave and dispose of their duties which is anything but public service.

Jesse Robredo was not Mikee Arroyo who pretended to represent security guards and janitors.  He was genuine, unpretentious and secure.

Jesse Robredo was not Camarines Governor Luis Villafuerte who blocked his confirmation as DILG Secretary because he failed to unite politics in the Bicol region which the Villafuertes have lorded over for decades, and where Luis himself is at odds with his very own son LRay.  No.  Jesse was not like him.  He did not see public service as having geographic or political boundaries.  He only saw Filipinos needing help.

I believe that Jesse Robredo was fated to die early, while there was so much left to do.  It had to happen because there are so much more that can be done if he is gone.  I believe that because of his example, more like him will follow.

Good men die in different ways.  Some die old, helping and inspiring people along the way, mostly those who are in immediate contact of the man.  But there are those like Jesse Robredo who must die leaving behind plenty of what-ifs and open-ended questions that would inspire and goad future generations to fill in the blanks and continue the work left undone.  Jose Rizal died the same way.  So did Ninoy Aquino.  Their deaths, while untimely and deeply unsettling, paved the way for upheavals that changed the course of our nation’s history.

So yes, Jesse Robredo died not a second too soon.  Change is on the way.

Through his death, stories of his dedication to his country and its people are surfacing; making more Filipinos – especially those that have become jaded and skeptical – believe that there are people in the government who genuinely have the interest of the Filipinos at heart.

Through his death, people are now realizing that he has done a lot without anyone hearing or reading about them.  That is public service, not self-service.

Pass the Robredo Bill and let’s move forward without the likes of Meynard Sabili polluting

beautiful Lipa with his heavily doctored photo every chance he gets.  This is politics at its crudest.

Pass the Robredo Bill and let’s start a new culture of politics where officials are more concerned with good governance rather than good image projection.  The latter naturally follows if the former is observed and sustained.

Pass the Robredo Bill and let’s put a face and a name to good governance.  It’s long overdue and someone just died for it.


I hope this post is read and shared until it reaches the proponents of the Epal Bill.

Jesse Robredo: 1958-2012

I don’t know Jesse Robredo.  But when someone would jump the high seas just to witness a proud moment in his child’s life – I admire him.  And for this person to work for the government, I admire him even more.

At least I know where his heart is.

If a man would not miss his child for the world then he knows his priorities, and it is certainly not his work at the government.   And this is the kind of love that everyone in the government should possess.

If a government man values his family over his life then he is motivated to give his all to his job -- and not get all from it -- knowing fully well that what he does at work will have an effect, good or bad, to those he loves.

You know where his heart is.

I don’t know him but my heart is heavy.

Secretary Jesse Robredo, may you rest in peace.  And may your life of simplicity and service be an example to every Filipino, especially those in the government who may not think that their child’s smallest victory is perhaps the most important in this world.

A bike errand and a guard just doing his job

I routinely ride my bike for errands.  This saves me time and money as it allows me to weave in and around traffic without burning gas or paying for fare. 

I needed sugar this morning, two kilos of it.  A kilo of white sugar costs 7 pesos more at the local sarisari store than at the grocery, so biking 8 kilometers to and from Robinsons Place would save me 14 pesos, and I get to earn a little exercise on the side.

I usually park my bike where motorcycle riders park theirs, near the rear entrance of the mall.  As customary, I politely ask the security guard in charge of the parking space “Sir, paiwan lang ha. Mabilis lang ako.”  Instead of the usual “Sige sir, pakitabi na lang d’yan,” the guard on duty sternly asked “Wala ka bang lock n’yan?” as he pointed to other bikes padlocked to a steel post.

“Sir, saglit lang ako,” I repeated myself.

“Dapat kasi may lock ka, eh.”

“Wala nga sir, eh.  Di ko ba puedeng iwan?”  I asked in a relaxed voice.

“San mo iiwanan? My stand ba yan?, as he pointed to a line of motorcycles that were standing on their own, indicating that they belong where they are.

“Wala rin, sir.”

“Eh, dapat may stand yan.   Kung lalabas kayo at iiwanan ang bike nyo, dapat may lock at stand.”

My patience was wearing thin and I didn’t like the tone of his voice.  “Sir, gaano ba ka-imposible ang hinihingi ko?  At huwag mo ko pagagalitan.”

“Sir,” the first time he used the word and at a lower octave, “di ko naman kayo pinagagalitan, baka lang masalisihan tayo.”

“Tignan mo nga kung gaano kalaki ako (I am 185-pound, 6’1” man)? Hindi mo kaya mapapansin kung biglang maliit na ang kukuha ng bike ko?”

He was determined not to let me park, but I was equally determined to let him see my point – that leaving my bike at his post, won’t cause him any trouble, and won’t result to a stolen bike provided that he opens his eyes.  It was as simple as that.

Perhaps realizing that I was not about to ride away, he grudgingly gestured to a corner.  It is where I normally park my bike -- within his reach and sight.

I was back to retrieve my bike after no more than 10 minutes.  Another guard was ogling it, while the guard on duty was, well, standing where I left him: a meter away from it.

On my way home, I kept on repeating the conversation I had with the guard in my head, trying to find a way to understand why he acted the way he did.  The most reasonable argument would be that he was afraid that a bike that costs perhaps several months of his salary could be stolen right under his nose.   But that doesn’t hold water.  No thief would be stupid enough to steal a bike when a guard can handcuff him even before he can mount it.  I suppose it’s possible.  But come on, even the most desperate thief would at least try to steal something that he knows he has half a chance of getting away with it.

So I came to this conclusion: The guard was just doing his job.  And that’s the problem, he was JUST doing his job.

Years ago, I was asked to come up with an Annual Report concept for Petron.  They were then trying to overhaul their service philosophy which mandated that everyone, from the gas pump attendant dealing with a customer to the big bosses making the big decision, should attend to his responsibilities with the end goal of creating an extraordinary service experience for the other party.  I encapsulated this thrust into the theme “Going the extra mile for a smile.”

The guard was just doing his job, by following a job description.  I can’t help but think that he considers his job as “merely” a source of income, nothing more, and certainly not part of something bigger.  Which is not bad really, and I cannot fault him for it.  Why should he go the extra mile when he had already given what was required?

It’s the same as the karinderia owner who refuses extra sabaw to a customer, a nurse who snubs a patient’s request to raise his bed a little because she was only there to check on the meds, or a mechanic who ignores a lose wheel nut because he was only asked to work on the brakes.

And to think the difference between a satisfied carinderia customer, a relieved hospital patient or a safe car driver is just a few seconds, and one unremarkable effort.  Really, it doesn’t take much to put a smile on somebody’s face.

Perhaps, I was just expecting too much because I believe that every person doing a job has certain predispositions or qualities that would make him effective.  I expect a guard to be alert and attentive.  Just as I expect a chef to have a keen taste for food, a teacher to be patient and knowledgeable, and a politician to be, well, good at what politicians do (supply the word).

There is always a human element to any job that requires interaction.  And this often entails a little flexibility to adjust to the push of fulfilling a job description and the pull of giving in to a reasonable, humane and helpful request. And sometimes, a little sensitivity to the situation.

When my father was in the hospital for Stage 4 cancer, he was attended to by a female physician.  She was good and always knew what to do medically under any condition and circumstance.  But by then my father was feeling pain all over his body.  In one of her rounds the good doctor found me massaging my father with coconut oil to which she snapped, “Wala namang magagawa yang langis at masahe na ‘yan.”  She didn’t get it.  But she was doing her job.

Every job becomes more than what it is when we consider what it would mean to others.  How about you, what is your job?

The RH Bill, Caesar’s lot and my priest and nun relatives

I am a part of a family that is tied to the core of the Catholic Church.  Two of my father’s male siblings – Santiago and Jose – entered the priesthood, while two of his sisters – Fe and Jesusa – became nuns.  My brothers and I all devoted a chunk of our growing up years as altar boys.   But never did we grow up thinking that we should obey everything the church says or else we would suffer eternal damnation.

From what I understand now, we were guided to tell right from wrong until we were mature enough to tell the difference between the two.  We were born into a religion, but for faith to grow there must be a choice, an alternative.  If there was none, then there is only blind obedience.

So I choose to be a Catholic.  Friends and relatives who have been enlightened and who now exclusively call themselves Christians fear for my soul because I still follow what to them are the wrong teachings.  Yet I am not the least bothered about my soul nor about the differing views that they may have about me and my faith.  In fact, I am happy for them because they found God in the way that their faith, their choice, allowed them to.

But though I remain a Catholic, I don’t feel compelled or obliged to follow everything that its leaders bid me so.  Faith can never be imposed.

The Catholic Church is very vocal about its opposition to the proposed RH Bill.  It says it is evil.  It says it is against life.  I guess Catholic priests, bishops and Cardinals who are forbidden to procreate let alone put themselves in situations, even imaginary, where they can extend their progeny have taken the message “Go all of you and multiply,” as an all encompassing go signal for everyone to sow seeds whenever possible.  Of course, preferably with a single mate.

Dolphy was a shining example of this doctrine.  But Dolphy provided well.  Hence his prodigiousness was acceptable, admirable even.  But alas, while millions of Filipino males can or are willing or wishing to do their best Dolphy impersonation when it comes to counting children, and sometimes mates, a vast majority of them could not decently provide for a few, let alone more.

Children are blessings.  I agree wholeheartedly.  But if you make making blessings an industry then this virtually puts an unfair, unsolicited and undeserved curse on its products – children who did not have a choice but to open their eyes to a life with a limited opportunity to improve their lot in life.  And you call this good? For whom?

Tito Sotto, whose brother Vic has sired children with several women, thinks so. Gloria Arroyo who is a devout Catholic, but one who follows the 10 commandments selectively, also thinks so.  So does many bishops and priests who after delivering homilies and threats of eternal damnation retire to their cloisters to pray that children, the blessings themselves, may soon have roofs over their heads, food for their stomachs, and education for their minds, and not the squalor, poverty and the hopelessness that they wake up to everyday.

And this is supposed to be promoting life? 

I wonder if Tito Sotto, or Gloria, or the priests can have the zest to say “Thank God for this blessing” if they wake up one day only to find out that their most pressing concern is where to find the next meal, and they’re not even hopeful that they’d get it?  Good life or good luck?

The RH Bill should not be a debate about good and evil because it is not.  It should not be even about faith or eternal damnation.  It should only be about choice based on one’s reality, among options that are well explained and devoid of unreasonable emotions from the pro or anti-RH Bill.

It’s about free will.  And it is not something that can be monopolized nor imposed any other way by anybody to anyone.   It’s a decision that is best left to the individual to make on the ground where it is relevant, not by someone or an institution up high in the clouds where it is nice and breezy.   If one decides to make so many blessings despite the option to effect the contrary then so be it.  But if a family decides that a few would be the ideal situation, then so be it as well.  And let no one be so judgmental as to say the other is wrong.

It is just right that the Church should exercise moral suasion to its flock and, up to a certain extent, the government.  But the separation of church and state should be observed.  Even Jesus clearly drew the line when asked what he thought about the taxes levied by the Romans on the Jews, he replied “Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s, and give to God what is God’s.” The two can be reconciled.

If my priest uncles and nun aunts would hear what I’m saying, they won’t condemn me or think that I am a lost soul.  Instead they would smile and respect my views because they know my faith is based on free will as much as their decision to enter religious life was.

And they won’t believe that I am evil. They won't because I'm not.