UT IN OMNIBUS GLORIFICETUR DEUS.

UT IN OMNIBUS GLORIFICETUR DEUS.

UT IN OMNIBUS GLORIFICETUR DEUS.

UT IN OMNIBUS GLORIFICETUR DEUS.

UT IN OMNIBUS GLORIFICETUR DEUS.

Friday, December 31, 2010

Christmas news story: Aquino among the Mangyans

SOMETHING GROUNDBREAKING and historic happened on December 15. But there was no mention of it in the national media. No news stories, no photos, no TV coverage.

But so what. For the community of Hanunuo, Gubatnon and Ratagnon (Hagura) Mangyans of Occidental Mindoro it was a day they will never forget. President Benigno Aquino III flew to Magsaysay town to make the day very special. The Mangyans awaited his coming with bated breath and the sight of the descending helicopter with the President on board added to the excitement.

I was not present, but I am writing about the event because the Mangyans are a special people. I have stayed in their communities and written stories about them, although not these particular Mangyan groups that the President came for.

December 15 was the day of the awarding of the Certificate of Ancestral Domain Title (CADT) which the Mangyans and their supporters, particularly the Franciscan Missionaries of Mary (FMM), have been waiting for the last 15 years. The long and arduous struggle began in 1995 and many living Mangyans elders did not think they would live to see this day. In fact many of the elders who had presented proof of their ancestral domain claim have either died or are weak and sickly.

When the Mangyans learned that the CADT would at last be awarded to them, they made a request that would be rebuffed again and again: that the President come to hand over to them the CADT and for him to behold the joy on their faces. The Mangyans were told that this was not going to happen. They were simply not on the radar screen.

But as the cosmists might say, when you desire something good so intensely the universe will conspire to make it happen.

An FMM, Sr. Cho Borromeo, had saved the phone number of then presidential candidate Noynoy in her cell phone’s contacts folder during the campaign period. Sr. Cho does not work with the Mangyans but gives spiritual retreats all over the world. (We became close friends while spending months together and experiencing Asian spirituality in India many years ago.) But her heart and soul belong to the forlorn and forgotten.

Upon learning from her fellow nuns that the Mangyans had been rebuffed, she called the number that she had saved. It was suntok sa buwan. Maybe an aide would answer, she thought. No answer. Again and again she dialed. Then someone answered the phone. “Is this the President?” she asked. “Yes,” the President answered. Sr. Cho shook in her shoes.

Let’s cut to the chase. The President said, yes, he will come, but could the awarding be moved a day later?

And so it was that Aquino was among the Mangyans on that auspicious December day written in the stars. He flew by helicopter to Magsaysay town and was met by Mangyan elders wearing G-strings and head gear.

Said Aquino:

“Sa paggawad natin ng CADT sa grupong Hagura ngayong araw, hindi lamang lupang ninuno ang ibinabalik natin sa kanila. Higit sa lahat, patunay ito sa pagkilala natin sa lahat ng Mangyan bilang mahalagang pangkat ng ating lipunan; makabuluhang bahagi ng ating kultura at kasaysayan.

“Tulad ninyo, naniniwala rin akong hindi lamang ito isang paggawad. Isa itong pagpupugay sa inyong tapang upang maibalik sa inyo ang lupang ipinagkait sa inyo nang mahabang panahon. Ngayong hawak na muli ninyo ang lupang ipinamana ng inyong mga ninuno, umaasa akong patuloy kayong magiging katuwang ng pamahalaan upang pangalagaan ang kinabukasan ng mga susunod na Mangyan; ng mga sumusunod ring mga Pilipino.

“Nawa’y maging hudyat ang araw na ito sa mas matibay na ugnayan nating lahat sa pagtataguyod ng mas maliwanag na bukas para sa marami pang henerasyon.”

Hagura is the organization to which three Mangyan tribes belong. It covers 14 sitios in Magsaysay and three in San Jose. It was set up in 1995 to consolidate efforts to acquire legal right and develop the ancestral domain of the three tribes.

According to the FMMs, Mangyans’ ancestral domain is delineated not by municipal boundaries but by the location of the tribes. In the past the three tribes in Hagura were one tribe until they were given different names by the settlers.

Credit must go to the National Commission on Indigenous Peoples who processed the claims and the FMMs who assisted in the surveys and explained the Indigenous Peoples Rights Act (IPRA) to the Mangyans in order to make them aware of their rights. The nuns climbed mountains, crossed rivers, slept in the open, ate what the Mangyans ate and, most of all, listened to the people’s sentiments. And as Aquino himself admitted in his speech, it was a nun’s persistence that brought him into the midst of the men and women of the great forests.

A battle has been won, but the Mangyans will not rest easy because of threats to their domain such as illegal logging, commercial mining, creeping pasturelands, and fighting between the military and the communist rebels. The Mangyans must not lose what they fought for and won.

Indeed, Christmas came early for the Hanunuo, Gubatnon and Ratagnon Mangyans. I have posted a photo of the President with the Mangyans in my blogsite.

And so as I partake of forest ferns and wild honey (my yuletide fare), as I quietly bask in the afterglow of Christmas night, I remember the time I spent among the Alangan Mangyans many years ago, in their hallowed grounds where the stars shone brightly and the wind whispered songs to the trees while I listened to ancient tales narrated by the fireside.

Thursday, December 23, 2010

'The Masses are Messiah'

LAUNCHED LAST week was Karl M. Gaspar’s latest book, “The Masses are Messiah: Contemplating the Filipino Soul.”

I was asked to write a blurb for the book’s back cover. After looking at the title I was discombobulated. But I thought I’d try. How does one distill into five sentences the essence of a book that was several years in the making and took the author over mountains and valleys, across rivers and seas and into the heart and soul of the people of our islands?

Anyway, let me quote myself: “Profoundly Pinoy! A must-read for both the actives and contemplatives of this planet. Somewhere on these pages you might recognize your own journey into your own soul, and beyond—from masa to misa to mystic to messiah. Karl has explored the amazing wilderness that is the Filipino soul and discovered gems so raw and so priceless. We are a spirituality gifted people and we should know it.”

Karl introduces us to his scholarly opus by dissecting the book’s title in Chapter 1. The title is from a poem written by poet-revolutionary Emmanuel Lacaba (1949-1976) who was killed in the prime of his youth.
The road less travelled by we’ve taken—/And that has made all the difference:/ The barefoot army of the wilderness/ We all should be on time./ Awakened, the masses are Messiah./ Here among the workers and peasants our lost/ Generation has found its true, its only home.
It was not lost on Karl that the poet’s name was Emmanuel which means God with us, Jesus the awaited Messiah that we sing about during this Advent season.

After hurdling the first chapter you can hurtle through the succeeding ones. From the chapter “Stories of Spiritual Journeys” Karl draws many tantalizing elements for his thesis. The stories gave him a window to what he calls the IBS (indigenous belief system) that would be in the core of his research.

Sunday, December 19, 2010

Where advent means waiting with joy

THEY come from different walks of life and circumstances—each with a special life story to tell. Somewhere, sometime, at a certain point in their lives, they had reached what looked like the end of the road. For most of them, there was no one and nothing left except a last painful stretch of a life that had yet to be spent.

To whom will they go while they wait?

The residents of Anawim, Home of God’s Poor, have indeed found a place at last. Here, in the sunset of their lives, they wait for the final call to the great beyond. For these elderly and poor—materially and otherwise—everyday is Advent, a beginning.

Anawim is Hebrew for “the poor of the Lord,” often mentioned in the Bible.
Advent, the opening season in the Catholic liturgical calendar, means a time of expectant waiting and preparation for the celebration of the birth of Christ, or Christmas. But not many people, the elderly poor especially, have the privilege of waiting with joy and peace in their hearts. And in a special place at that.
Nestled on a sprawling five-hectare property in Barangay (village) San Isidro in the outskirts of Montalban (Rodriguez), Rizal, the Anawim home is run by the Anawim Lay Missions (ALMS) Foundation Inc., the “mercy mission” of the Light of Jesus (LOJ) Community. LOJ is a Catholic charismatic group founded by lay Catholic preacher and author Bo Sanchez.

Marisa Chikiamco, LOJ missionary and former center directress, recalls how in 1993 the LOJ community acquired this property on hilly terrain. Sanchez simply stated the home’s vision: “Anawim will open its doors to whoever God will send.”

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Blood under the bridge

Philippine Daily Inquirer/OPINION/by Ma. Ceres P. Doyo
THE SUPREME Court’s verdict is out, and it is final. Webb et al., accused and convicted for the crimes of rape and murder now known as the Vizconde massacre, have been acquitted and are walking free after spending 15 years in prison.

One of the things that bothered me about this case (and I have not heard it being stressed enough) is that the suspects, who became the accused in this case, were identified in 1995 or thereabouts, some four years after the crime happened in 1991. Four years is a long time, enough time for the real rapists and murderers to cover their tracks and produce believable alibis in case someone squealed on them and they became the suspects. It is also enough time for the evidence to get cold and for potential prosecution witnesses to conveniently lose their memory or vanish from the face of the earth.

Although the seven former convicts were acquitted, questions remain in people’s minds. But in the judgment of the seven justices who voted for acquittal (as against the dissenting four and the inhibiting four), the seven convicts could not be found guilty beyond reasonable doubt.

Well, only God and the people around each of them at the exact time and immediately after the crime was committed could say if the acquitted did or did not commit the crime of the decade. Two decades later many of us ask: What should we believe?

If there is one person who is “morally certain” of the guilt of the acquitted—then and until now—it is Mariano Mison who was head of the National Bureau of Investigation in 1995 when Task Force Jecares was formed. I had a long interview with him at that time and found his “If only I could talk” statement most puzzling. When the accused were convicted in 2000, I tracked down Mison (then already retired) and sprang his 1995 statement on him. He remained steadfast in his belief (bolstered by fearful “silent witnesses”) and did not entertain doubts that innocent young men may have been sent to prison. And, yes, he talked. No more “if only.”

Thursday, December 9, 2010

'The only way is up'

CONGRATULATIONS TO the Alternative Indigenous Development Foundation Inc. (AIDFI) and the villages in Negros Occidental where the ram pump was introduced and changed the lives of so many people in need of clean and continuous water supply.
AIDFI won first prize in this year’s BBC World Challenge, a global competition aimed at finding projects or small businesses from around the world that have shown enterprise and innovation at a grassroots level. Now on its sixth year, World Challenge, its sponsors say, is about championing and rewarding projects and businesses which really make a difference. The sponsors are BBC World News and Newsweek, in association with Shell.
Last year Filipino kariton “street teacher” Efren Penaflorida was honored as a CNN hero, and now a Philippine entry won in the BBC challenge. These two giant global media networks now have the Philippines in their rosters of grassroots greats.

AIDFI’s ram pump was among 800 nominees from all over the world. From the 800 nominees 12 finalists and three winners were picked. The two runners-up were Peru and Guatemala. The Philippine entry received a $20,000 grant and the two other winners got $10,000 each.

The sponsors are pleased to say that this year’s 12 finalists again “raised the bar for sustainable enterprises that are putting something back into their communities. They are all boosting livelihoods and improving living standards without wrecking the environment.” The competition showcased finalists from Asia, Africa, Europe and the Americas and provided inspiration. Viewers were urged to choose one from the 12 finalists as their favorite.

Sunday, December 5, 2010

Taal: A Marian heritage site like no other

NO OTHER town in Batangas is like Taal. Walking down its streets is like walking down through history.

Declared a heritage town by the National Historical Commission, Taal offers many come-ons.
There is the basilica of Saint Martin of Tours, known to be the biggest in Southeast Asia; the Spanish-era structures and homes of great Filipinos; the lake and its active volcano; the exquisite calado embroidery on piña and jusi that has become world-famous.

Choose from an array of heritage museum-homes, among them the homes of Marcella Agoncillo (she sewed the first Philippine flag), Gliceria Marella de Villavicencio (the forgotten heroine of the revolution), the Apacible and Goco homes and the grand mansion of Leon Agoncillo.

Huge basilica

The imposing Basilica of St. Martin of Tours is Taal’s centerpiece. Declared a national shrine in 1974, its façade bears a resemblance to St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome. Its tabernacle is made of silver and is said to be the only one of its kind in the Philippines.

The original structure was built in 1575, in the place now known as San Nicolas. In 1754 the basilica was destroyed by the Taal volcano eruption.

Rebuilding of the current structure took nine years (1856-1865) under parish priest Fray Marcos Anton and Spanish architect Luciano Oliver.

Intricate designs, many in chiaroscuro style, adorn the church ceilings and walls. Painted images of the four evangelists (Sts. Matthew, Mark, Luke and John) occupy the lower portion of the dome. Sts. Peter and Paul have special places on the ground level. The basilica has been undergoing a vigorous clean-up and restoration in preparation for this month’s Feast of the Immaculate Conception.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

10 things that make PH ugly: readers react

I GOT interesting e-mail from readers, both Filipinos and non-Filipinos from here and abroad, all of them male, who reacted to last week’s column piece, “10 things that make PH ugly.” One thing I’ve known all along: when you make a list, you are likely going to be swamped with items to add to it.

I GOT interesting e-mail from readers, both Filipinos and non-Filipinos from here and abroad, all of them male, who reacted to last week’s column piece, “10 things that make PH ugly.” One thing I’ve known all along: when you make a list, you are likely going to be swamped with items to add to it.

Last week’s column was a reaction to the Department of Tourism’s (DOT) much-heckled campaign come-on, “Pilipinas, kay ganda” (Philippines, how beautiful) and unoriginal logo that looked similar to Poland’s. I also listed 10 things that I thought made beautiful Philippines not so “kay ganda.”
Well, see what I got. First I must say that the editor in chief pirated one of the letters—a touching one, really—for publication. It came from Ben Fairbank, an Australian who has been working and living here for the last two years. So I am not sharing his letter here. But thank you, Mr. Fairbank, for seeing so much goodness and beauty in this country. You love us, you really love us!
From Jojo dela Cruz in Beijing: “… [A]t the time I read your article I had just finished listing almost the same things: top 10 Boos (ugly) in the PH, as well as my top 10 Wows. In less than five minutes I was able to come up with my top-of-the-mind list. I am an expatriate working for a multinational FMCG company, previously based in Switzerland and now posted in Beijing. Often I would chat with my non-Pinoy friends and it is inevitable that they ask about PH. I often advise them, ‘Don’t stay long in Manila and head immediately to the beaches/islands.’ In the end most would go to Thailand, Malaysia or Indonesia if they want to have a Southeast Asian experience. Only after they have covered these countries do they start considering PH. And they say it’s not only because of the spate of bad news, but also because they hear very little positive ‘touristy’ information and advertisements about us. Sad.”

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

13 names added on heroes wall

Philippine Daily Inquirer/FEATURES/by Ma. Ceres P. Doyo

Human rights lawyers, a pastor, teachers and organizers of students, the youth, peasants and communities?13 men in all, two of them, brothers?will be honored on Tuesday and their names engraved on the Wall of Remembrance at the Bantayog ng Mga Bayani (Monument of Heroes) in Quezon City.
The way they lived and died varied?some were arbitrarily killed or disappeared, while others died of natural causes.
This year?s honorees bring to 193 the names etched on the black granite Wall of Remembrance near the 45-foot bronze monument by renowned sculptor Eduardo Castrillo that depicts a defiant mother holding a fallen son.
The monument, the wall and other structures at the Bantayog complex are dedicated to ?the nation?s modern-day martyrs and heroes who fought against all odds to help regain freedom, peace, justice, truth and democracy in the country.?
Close examination
The Bantayog recognition is conferred only after close examination of a person?s life and manner of death.
The 13 are Roy Lorenzo H. Acebedo (1951-1975), David T. Bueno (1956-1987), William T. Chua (1955-2004), Jesus F. Fernandez (1955-2007), Arthur E. Galace (1942-1993), Eduardo E. Lanzona (1946-1975), Salvador F. Leaño (1921-1986), brothers Alfredo (1947-1973) and Armando L. Mendoza (1949-1975), Alex A. Mirabueno (1951-1988), Modesto C. Sison (1947-1977), Teresito G. Sison (1930-1980) and Rolan Y. Ybañez (1958-1985).
Honor studentt
Acebedo was a student organizer. He was a scholar, honor student majoring in mathematics at the Pamantasan ng Lungsod ng Maynila.
A student leader and activist, Acebedo was hunted down by the military during the martial law years. He was arrested, heavily tortured and detained for eight months.
He did not return to school after he was released and proceeded to the countryside. He was captured in a military raid.
Witnesses said Acebedo and his comrades were tortured and ordered to dig their graves. His remains have not been recovered.
Bueno, a human rights lawyer, graduated from San Beda College. He defended pro bono political prisoners and the tribal Yapayao farmers.
Based in Ilocos Norte, Bueno denounced military operations and atrocities in the North and organized a human rights organization there.
He took in village people and sent poor children to school. Bueno was assassinated in 1987.
Satirical pieces
Chua, a graduate of Xavier School, De La Salle University and the University of the Philippines, was not only a human rights lawyer. He was also a writer who penned scathing and satirical pieces during the martial law years. He gave his services to striking labor unionists and civil society groups.
Garrulous and funny, Chua was a well-liked person who brought much laughter even in times of danger and while doing serious work. Later, he would help expose graft and corruption in government.
Chua died of natural causes in 2004 and received several posthumous citations from his alma mater and the Chinese-Filipino community.
Youth leader
Fernandez was a youth leader who helped organize massive protest rallies. Working in the underground for several years, he was known for his planning and organizing skills and his work for the poor, justice and peace. He died of natural causes.
Galace was a human rights lawyer who organized fellow human rights advocates in northern Luzon. He defended political detainees and also wrote a column in a provincial paper.
He took up the case of farmers massacred by soldiers in Nueva Vizcaya. He died of diabetes in 1993.
Economics teacher
Lanzona was an economics teacher. He attended Ateneo de Manila University. Although he came from a wealthy family in Davao, Lanzona became passionately involved in the farmers? clamor for land reform.
He helped organize professors in Ateneo de Davao as well as bank employees. He joined the underground and became a hunted man. He was arrested, tortured and executed in 1975.
Leaño was a pastor for the Foursquare Church in San Andres, Romblon, at the time of his death. A poll watcher during the 1986 snap presidential election, he was shot and killed while defending the ballot. His body was stuffed inside a sack and found buried in a shallow grave.
The judge who convicted the murderer was all praises for Leaño?s dedication to duty and nominated him to be among the Bantayog heroes.
Desaparecidos
Brothers Alfredo and Armando Mendoza are considered ?desaparecidos? (disappeared). Their names are inscribed on the Flame of Courage Monument in Baclaran Church grounds for the missing.
Alfredo was a church worker and organizer while Armando was a student and peasant organizer.
Arrested in 1973, Alfredo was detained and later disappeared. Armando was arrested and detained in 1974. His captors said he escaped but his family received reports about him being rearrested and killed. The bodies of Alfredo and Armando have not been found.
Mirabueno was a human rights lawyer active in his home province of Cotabato. He hosted a radio program and rallied listeners to demand for reforms, he denounced corruption in government and illegal loggers.
He was also the provincial chair of the Free Legal Assistance Group. Mirabueno was gunned down in broad daylight.
Modesto Sison was a high school teacher in Davao Oriental and later, a peasant organizer. As a member of the Federation of Free Farmers and the Khi Rho movement, he went deep into the peasant movement. He disappeared in 1977 and has never been found.
Former seminarian
Teresito Sison was a former seminarian and a gifted teacher. He taught in Angeles City and later led a teachers? strike.
Arrested in 1971 when President Ferdinand Marcos suspended the writ of habeas corpus, Sison was detained, tortured and charged with subversion.
The torture he suffered led to physical disability and eventually, kidney failure.
Ybañez was a community organizer. Born in Mindoro Oriental, Ybañez the activist moved around in several places and later settled in Cebu where he became involved in protest rallies.
Although a behind-the-scenes person, Ybañez became a marked man. He was abducted on the same day that Fr. Rudy Romano was seized. Both of them remain missing to this day.
Honors
Honors will be conferred on these 13 individuals starting at 3:30 p.m. Tuesday at the Bantayog Memorial Center. Located at the intersection of EDSA (Epifanio de los Santos Avenue) and Quezon Avenue, the Bantayog complex now boasts a P16-million building, with a floor area of 1,000-sqm which houses a mini auditorium with 72 seats, symbolic of the year (1972) tyrannical rule was imposed through martial law.
A museum and library-archives are also housed in the building. Bantayog?s facilities could accommodate gatherings for special occasions. (For details please call 4348343 or visit www.bantayogngbayani.net).
Bantayog?s 1.5-hectare property was donated by the government, through Landbank, a year after the Marcos dictatorship was toppled and Corazon Aquino became president in 1986.
Every year names are added to the Wall of Remembrance. The first 65 names were engraved on the black granite wall in 1992. An estimated 10,000 Filipinos are believed to have suffered and died during the Marcos dictatorship that ended in 1986.
Founded after the 1986 People Power Revolution, The Bantayog ng mga Bayani Foundation Inc. is chaired by Alfonso T. Yuchengco. Former Senate President Jovito R. Salonga is chair emeritus.

Thursday, November 25, 2010

10 things that make PH ugly

Sunday, November 21, 2010

The little paper that roared

Editor's note: For 25 days, we will be telling stories about the Inquirer to mark the paper's 25th anniversary on Dec. 9, 2010. Some are littel stories but impacting oon how we cover unfolding events; some are mark-the-day stories that became talk-of-the-town types, others are turning point stories that have changed the landscape of history, still others, big or small, seize the heart and never let go. But whatever, the Inquirer will tell you the story.

First of the 25-day series
Philippine Daily Inquirer/FEATURES/by Ma. Ceres P. Doyo
MANILA, Philippines—And so it came to pass that the new kid on the block issued an announcement that sounded like a portent of things to come: “A new event is crying for our attention: possible snap elections. When and if that happens the Philippine Inquirer may respond with a snap daily. This new broadsheet size is in preparation for that eventuality” (Nov. 11-17, 1985).
The weekly tabloid-size Philippine Inquirer was born on Feb. 4, 1985, in response to a need to watch closely the Sandiganbayan trial of the 26 men accused in the assassination of former Sen. Benigno “Ninoy” Aquino Jr. on Aug. 21, 1983. With the trial over except for the verdict, the Inquirer prepared for a “snap eventuality.”

The women in charge: publisher and editor in chief Eugenia D. Apostol and editor Leticia J. Magsanoc.

On Dec. 9, 1985, a Monday, the Philippine Inquirer became the Philippine Daily Inquirer, ISSN 0116-0443, a broadsheet eager to participate in and report daily on the nation’s unfolding history.

That day, fair weather, with light and variable winds, prevailed in Metro Manila. Other parts of the country had fair weather with isolated rain showers.

The first banner headline: “Cory rebuffs Doy demands.” Above it, “I am against communism, says Cory.” Below the fold: “Marcos claims God ordered him to lead Filipinos.”

Above the masthead of the “unmade bed” (referring to how the paper’s layout looked) was the come-on: “A slogan? Help us write one and win a prize.”

Weeks later, “Balanced News, Fearless Views” was chosen from more than 27,000 entries. Proof that people out there were reading the Inquirer and eager to participate in its becoming.

Defining moments
But it was during the days ahead that the rhyming catch phrase would be put to the test. The Feb. 7, 1986, snap election that pitted Ferdinand Marcos against Cory Aquino and its aftermath became defining moments that would create a ground swell of protest and catalyze a powerful people power movement never seen before in the world. The Inquirer was in the midst of it all. But this is getting ahead of the story.
That February of 1986, the Inquirer continued to report on the fraudulent election and the protests in many parts of the country that began to shake the dictatorship in a major way. As the powerful Catholic Church hierarchy breathed down on Marcos and called down on him the wrath of God, it was clear that his days were numbered.

“FM next Duvalier-Cory” the Feb. 20 headline said. Marcos ignored the gathering storm.
In editorial after editorial, in its reports, the Inquirer exposed a regime that was falling apart and yet continued to show brute force.

The Inquirer prominently reported the slaying of former Antique governor and Cory supporter Evelio Javier after the snap election. It was like Ninoy’s assassination all over again, with the bloodied Javier looking like his slain idol at the then Manila International Airport.

The wide spectrum that was the protest movement was not wanting of martyrs, media persons among them.

Major unraveling

The Inquirer reported on governments taking Marcos to task for clinging to power by foul means. His regime was crumbling and his health was failing. Didn’t he see the end was near?

“15 nations snub FM/Won’t attend inaugural” the Feb. 21 headline of a banner story said. As the Inquirer editorial of Feb. 22 stressed, “When diplomats do this openly and in full view, then it is time for Mr. Marcos to consider the meaninglessness of his election victory and the prospects of his country’s being unwelcome in the family of nations while he leads it.”

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Save Sakineh from death by stoning

SENTENCED TO death by stoning is Iranian woman Sakineh Mohammadi-Ashtiani who was accused of committing adultery and other crimes. What a barbaric, messy way to kill a person.

I watched a convicted rapist die by lethal injection more than 10 years ago (after the death penalty was revived and enforced for several years) and I still remember the details. Although everything at the death chamber looked so antiseptic and clinical, I still considered the process brutal and merciless even as I shut off all emotions and concentrated on taking down notes. The next day I could not look at the photo of the convicted man that went with my front-page story.
Death by stoning is merciless and messy. Good thing a man named Jesus had, long ago, made a dramatic, slow-mo, bulls-eye pronouncement on it that stunned and stupefied the stoners of a woman caught in adultery. “Let anyone among you who is without sin cast the first stone.” And to the woman, “Go and sin no more.” Fantastic choice of words and with elocutory value, I must say.
But in this modern society and in some cultures, death by stoning is still a form of punishment. As in the case of Sakineh. A news report last week datelined Tehran said, “Iran said on Wednesday that a woman sentenced to death by stoning was in perfect health and that her case was still being reviewed after Western officials expressed concern her execution was imminent.

“Foreign Ministry spokesman Ramin Mehmanparast accused Western governments of a ‘shameless’ attempt to pressure Iran over the case by turning it into a human rights issue.”

But it is a human rights issue.

This brings to mind a gripping 1980 British docu-drama, “Death of a Princess,” believed to be based on a true story of Princess Masha’il from the Middle East. The princess and her lover, a commoner, were publicly executed. I remember watching the film on Betamax in the 20th century when DVD and Internet were not yet in our vocabulary.

We’re now in the 21st century and punishment of death by stoning—public, I suppose—is still being meted out.

Sakineh is not a Muslim princess. But because of new media technology, she might be luckier than the princess who was beheaded. There is a petition on the Internet calling for Sakineh’s immediate release. Add your name to the signatories (close to a million) from around the world who are calling for her release. Log on to http://www.avaaz.org/ en/24h_to_save_sakineh/98.php?CLICKTF

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Her true colors


FROM red to Red.

But before coming full circle, she had her share of long and winding roads that sometimes led to straight and narrow paths as well as dark tunnels and well-lit alleys. Then at some point, she just knew it was time to make a sharp turn and bid goodbye to a world she had known so well and embrace a life that would be the fitting culmination, if not continuation, of her commitment to a world crying out for redemption.

Before she became Sr. Angelina Celeste of the contemplative Order of the Holy Redeemer (O.Ss.R.), Celeste Barcenas was a known figure in community organizing (CO). Friends, colleagues and comrades called her Celê. For 30 years she inhaled and exhaled CO and knew the CO terrain like the back of her hand. It was like she was to CO born.

But her involvement with communities began much earlier. “I was studying agriculture at the University of the Philippines in Los Baños,” Sr. Celeste narrates. “Then I was drawn into activism.” It was the early 1970s, a time of ferment defined by protests against the Marcos dictatorship and clamor for radical change.

The young Celeste dropped out of university and joined the leftist underground. She lived and worked in marginalized communities and was on her way to becoming a communist cadre.

It did not take long for the military to track her down. The “subversive” was arrested and thrown in jail in 1972 when martial law was declared. Celeste was among the thousands who suffered in detention during that dark period. She was detained for almost a year in the Bicol region, with her family trying to understand her cause and supporting her.
The former activist does not go into the details of her arrest and detention and the identities of the persons she associated with in the underground at that time. But she does say that after her detention, she veered away from the influence of ideology and went into community service.
CO became the focus of Celeste’s life. “My first assignment was Cebu,” she recalls. She spent 30 years doing CO work, first with the Philippine Ecumenical Committee for Community Organization (Pecco) and later with the Community Organizing of the Philippines Enterprise Foundation (Cope). Cope was founded in 1977 after Pecco, the so-called mother of CO work in the Philippines, was dissolved.

Through Cope’s CO methods, many poor communities in the urban and rural areas were organized. Cope continues to carry out its mission through CO training, capability building, advocacy and networking. Cope also helps organize “people-centered and spiritually nurturing communities.”

Celeste’s work brought her to many places around the country and abroad. In the 1990s, she was sent to Nairobi, Kenya where she worked for six years. She came home in 1993 for a brief visit when her mother died. At that time Celeste was already experiencing some “disturbances” or turbulence inside her. Was God telling her something?

Friday, November 5, 2010

A few meters of loving space

Sunday Inquirer Magazine/FEATURES/by Ma. Ceres P. Doyo

WHEN I asked her how couples can be intimate in such a congested setting, the slum woman gave out a throaty laugh. “Ah, wala nang pa-tumbling-tumbling pa. Deretso na kaagad para makaraos.” She sounded almost casual.

“You know,” she added, “you are the second person to ask me that. The first one was a Belgian woman who came to visit us and see how we lived.” I was then doing the mini-biography (her odyssey, actually) of this spunky but consumptive slum woman. We were chatting in the “privacy” of her small Tondo home where about 20 members of her family lived.

After she had unraveled her personal life, we talked about urban congestion and its effects on people. Of course, I had to inquire about the slum dweller’s private lives but only after we had discussed their food, their wages, their dilapidated homes, their religious faith, their political views, their coping abilities, even their toilet habits.
Some nights, the woman said, when every single one in her multi-family household was at home, their two-story patchwork structure would be packed to the corners with steaming horizontal bodies in deep slumber. In the heat of the night, while she lay awake, she would feel movements and hear muted sounds. She was familiar with these things. “Alam ko na kung ano yun. Naiintindihan ko,” she said rather solemnly.
Researchers on people’s sex live have become commonplace but most of them, it seems, are conducted among the middle and upper classes. The results of these researches are published in expensive publications for these same classes to lap up, for they see in these glossies a reflection of their bedroom lives, their fatal attractions, their forbidden romances, even their gynecology.

Who cares what the poor do? The way the idea of sex has been glamorously and expensively packaged (as in the glossy girlie mags, the ads, the movies), it is as if only the haves make love while the have-nots merely copulate. Sex and the poor are oftentimes discussed only in the context of prostitution, child abuse and such worries as population explosion. But despite the constraints of space, time and privacy, the poor also generally live normal and vigorous sex lives. Whatever quirks and pathologies they have could not be any worse than those of their well-to-do counterparts.

I tried to find research literature on the poor’s sexual habits or something closely related to that topic, but there was none so I decided to go down to the slums and ask around. What at first I thought would be a voyeuristic undertaking yielded no-holds-barred discussions with very open and articulate interviewees. No euphemisms – they call a spade a spade, a penis a penis.

The first and last time Joel and Yolanda Lapena had a very private moment to themselves was when they attended, with some other poor couples, a three-day marriage encounter seminar in Taytay a few years ago. They had gone at the invitation of a nun. The encounter, the Lapena couple says, was “honeymoon talaga.” But more important to them was that they had time to talk intimately to each other. “We even wrote letters to each other,” a beaming Yolanda reports. A non-physical dimension and a spiritual communion with each other were to them new and exhilarating.

Married for almost 15 years, the 34-year-old Lapenas have six children aged 14 to eight (that means one baby every year). “Sa bunso na kami kinasal,” reveals Yolanda who adds that they were married in mass wedding rites sponsored by civic-minded citizens.

Joel works as a taxi washer while Yolanda has her hands full just taking care of the family. Joel earns P20 for every taxi he washes. On a good day he can earn P100. Home to the family is the second floor of a creaky house squeezed between two rundown houses in the Malate slums. The place, measuring about five by 15 feet, is divided by a curtain. At night 11 people (the couple, the six children and in-laws) sleep in this cramped space. There is only one bed that is too small for two, so the rest have to sleep on the floor.

So how and when did Joel and Yolanda “make” those six children? “Panakaw-nakaw lang pag-walang tao,” says Joel, and never at night. “Mabilisan lang. Pag umakyat ang mga bata napipigilan pa.” Even in the daytime, there is no way the couple can hide from anyone who happens to climb the ladder and enter the narrow door. So husband and wife are always on their guard and have to have their outer garments on just in case. “Wala nang romansa-romansa, basta makaraos lang, pero hindi naman bitin. Nerbiyos lang ho yung madalian.” No post coital conversation either, as in the movies. “Pagkatapos wala nang paguusap. Tayo kaagad.” They can hear the children playing downstairs.

Yolanda admits to having been so fertile. “Mahagisan lang daw ng briefs o malakdawan buntis na.” Several times she tried the pill but she developed rashes and had difficulty breathing. Although Joel worried about her, he never considered vasectomy. Yolanda wouldn’t have wanted that anyway, so after the sixth child she had a tubal ligation. It has been sex without worry twice weekly since then.

“Maligo ka na,” is Joel’s way of inviting his wife. She has never been one to ask for it, Yolanda admits. “Minulat kaming malayo sa lalaki,” she reasons.

Carlito Martes, 38, and wife Teresita, 37, have been married 18 years. They have six children, aged 18 to two. Laking Maynila, the couple started married life with an elopement. They now live in the Leveriza slums. Carlito works as a mason, Teresita as a laundry woman. She is a member of Alay Kapwa, a community cooperative.

The family’s abode, 20 square meters, hardly gives anyone privacy. And with so many children around, the couple had to make a papag practically in mid-air, a “mezzanine” that functioned as their bed. For some reason that papag had to be removed. “Walang papag, dieta,” quips Carlito, adding that sometimes they forget to have sex. “Nakakalimutan na rin.” Once a month is how regular it is and because there’s no more papag they have to have sex in a rush – “baka may magising.” When he’s had some drinks, then “doon ko lang ginagalaw.” Besides the fact that there’s hardly enough space, fancy positions are out for another reason. “Pang-prostitute lang daw yun,” Teresita quotes Carlito.

“I used an IUD (intraurine device) for nine years,” Teresita reveals. But twice she had infections because of it. She resorted to the pill, but after experiencing dizzy spells she stopped taking it. After nine years she gave birth again – to twins.

“We’ve never had a time to go out and by ourselves,” complains Teresita.

“Mabubuhay ka ba ng puro ganun,” Maria Cabello repeatedly points her finger downward, “kung ang tiyan ay kukulo-kulo?” Maria is a housewife whose husband Diosdado works as a photographer in the Manila Zoo which is a short distance from the Cabello home. He charges P20 per shot, P10 of which goes to him, the other P10 to the laboratory men. (The shy husband made himself unavailable for the interview saying he had to go to work.) The Cabellos, both in their late 30s, have four children aged 16 to 11. Neither parent finished high school.

The Cabello home is small, but it is quite neat and clean and is a lot better than their neighbors’ as they have some space and a few trees around them. Maria and Diosdado also have a little private corner to themselves.

Because the couple could not afford more children, Maria took the pill, but after some time she developed cysts and bleeding. She switched to injections and bled every week. Vasectomy was out of the question as the Cabellos erroneously believe it is hazardous to health. The ever-sacrificing wife says, “Hindi na baleng ako ang magkadeperensiya, huwag lang ang mister ko.” The couple has, since, then, used either the rhythm or the withdrawal method.

“Paghindi siya napagbigyan sa gabi,” says Maria of her husband, “maniningil sa araw.” Pagkakataon naman, e,” Diosdado would insist, “because the children are not around.” At night, the couple has to wait for the children to be fast asleep.

Sometimes, Maria says, their bodies are just too tired for anything. “Pata na ang katawan sa kakatrabaho.” But when Diosdado makes kalabit and Maria is not up to it, she psyches herself up so she can enjoy sex too. Otherwise she says she’ll have a hard time. “Mahihirapan din ako kung hindi dudulas.” They are always ready for their private moments to be disturbed. “Lagi kang handa baka may magbukas ng ilaw. It really all depends on the mood. Thirty minutes is long enough.”

There’s never any time or place to discuss sex. Maria says they can’t even argue about it openly so they end up fighting about other things. One thing Maria knows – she can make her husband forget about beer or alcohol with a promise of good sex. “But no,” she clarifies. “I’ll never do what the prostitutes do.”

Over in Ermita where many squatters live, a pregnancy counseling center has been put up by pro-lifers who promote natural family planning (NFP). (The center gives counseling services to pregnant women with problems as well as to those who want to know more about birth control options, be they artificial or natural.)

May Belgica, NFP trainor, has invited two women from the Adriatico slums to share something about their sex life. The women, Fe A. and Vicenta B. are in their 30s. Fe is heavy with her third child while Vicenta has an only daughter who’s entering her teens. Fe and Vicenta are used to talking openly about their sex life because they’ve had many discussions about sex, anatomy and family planning with many other women in their community. Vicenta is, in fact, an NFP counselor.

“Oh, they talk about their orgasms quite openly in group discussions,” says Sister Pilar Versoza, a Good Shepherd nun who also works at the center. “Some of them would even admit that they’ve never had one in all their many years of married life.” But thanks to women’s talakayan many women have become more familiar with their bodies and their needs.

For example they once discussed the case of a woman whose first husband was a wife beater but who, even his wife would concede, was a satisfying lover. Another complained that her husband would just mount her without any display of affection, no kisses whatsoever because he felt it wasn’t proper. “What!!!” the women rose in protest and lectured the poor woman on her right to satisfying sex. If they could only get hold of the husband…

Fe admits she knew nothing about making babies when she eloped. She remembers being teased by her husband’s kin the night of the elopement with “Naku lagot ka.” She didn’t know what the ribbing was all about. She says she never learned about sex in school because she didn’t even reach high school. She remembers her sister getting spanked simply because she uttered the word pek-pek.

But while Fe has become conversant about sex, she admits that she is never one to ask her husband for it. Although their house is not all that spacious for intimacies, Fe says, the children aren’t a worry because they are very young and are always sound asleep at night. Her husband, she adds with a giggle, has fixed the loose floor boards so they won’t make any noise.

Vicenta butts is to say that since her daughter is almost a teenager, a partition was put in the tiny house to give her some privacy. And her parents more freedom. Vicenta claims it’s always her husband who gives her a nudge. (“Ma, gusto ko,” or “lumalakad ang kamay.”) Although Vicente knows it’s all right for women to take on an aggressive role, she can’t really ask for it verbally, she can only make him feel she wants it. Sometimes when they want to make love during daytime and their daughter is around, her husband gives the daughter money and she runs off to buy herself something.

“When we do it it’s showtime talaga!” exclaims the irrepressible Vicenta. "At saka ayoko ng walang foreplay,” she adds. Night or early morning suits them fine. They take off everything because they have their little house to themselves. Many of their neighbors do not have that luxury.

Vicenta is happy with her husband, a Muslim, who she says respects and allows her to practice her Christian beliefs and who has no intention of taking any more wives. Staffers at the counseling center attest to the wholesome relationship between Vicenta and her husband.

Most of these slum women interviewed admit they know little about sex before they married. “Now our children learn these things in school,” they say. But do they discuss sex with their children? Almost all of them answer no – because the children never ask and these mothers are not inclined to bring up the topic either.

Maria Cabello says she sometimes sees her children reading tabloids which have advice columns that tackle sex in very graphic terms. She wonders about the effects of such reading matter on her growing kids. Sometimes in these tabloids the subject of sex goes side by side with a lot of violence.

On sex and violence, Dr. Michael Tan, a medical anthropologist who teaches Sex and Culture at the University of the Philippines, has some interesting views. Low-income males, he says, tend to link the sex act with dominance and violence. “You will notice this in their language. Like they’ll say, binabanatan when they refer to the sexual act. That seems to indicate low regard for women.”

Low-income males tend to marry early, says Tan, and like the average Filipino male, they think they are the best lovers in the world. “It is a big blow for them to be baog. They are the locus of control. Males openly boast about their sexual abilities and their endurance. They are a study in contradiction. They are moralistic about women who stray and yet they’ll be boasting about their practices na kasing laswa.” Peeping toms, common in depressed areas, are men.

Tan says that poor young women, who, early on, have been lured to sex-for-pay tend to later justify their getting stuck in prostitution with “naggamit na, tuloy-tuloy na.” Sociologist F. Landa Jocano, in his book "Slum as a Way of Life", made the same observation 15 years ago.

Most low-income women still think of their role in the sex act as a passive one. And so they say “Ginamit ako” or “Ginalaw ako ng mister ko.” (The Filipino word for sexual intercourse is pagtatalik, pagsisiping or pagniniig. The six-letter word is considered vulgar.) Many women also think it is never for them to initiate lovemaking. Ironically, in birth control, it is their bodies that must carry the gadgets, take in the drugs and submit to surgery. As if child-bearing – getting pregnant, giving birth, suckling the baby – are not difficult enough.

It seems the urban poor have fewer hang-ups and scruples about sex, never mind if it is far from the romantic, idealized thing that they wish it to be. But they can joke about it all. How they laugh about the rich bored women who spend money on vaginal tightening. “Landscaping,” they guffaw.

In slum areas there is very little that people can hide from one another. The walls have ears, the walls have holes. (Incidentally, there was this billboard in Quiapo which advertised a movie entitled "May Butas sa Dingding".) It’s all part of life. Sometimes when there are community meetings during daytime and it takes so long for some people to get out of their lean-tos, a leader would yell from the street, “Hoy, bunutin muna niyo yan!” A flustered couple would come out and find themselves being ribbed with, “Baun na baun ba?” followed by lusty laughter. Among the poor, sex, like hunger, is part of their common everyday lot.

Sunday Inquirer Magazine,
November 26, 1990

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Miracle, live on 'Dr. Love RAdio Show'

JANICE (NOT her real name) was holding a bottle of pills and ready to gulp them down and call it quits. But first she was going to end the lives of her four young children before ending her own.
That was the scenario in her mind when she called dzMM Teleradyo on Tuesday night. When Janice called out for help, the “Dr. Love Radio Show” (10 p.m. to 12 midnight, Monday to Friday) of Brother Jun Banaag, O.P., was not yet on air so staffers had to keep her engaged. Who knows what Janice was going to do in those desperate moments? When “Dr. Love” finally went on air, Janice was heard sobbing, sobbing, sobbing.
Before I go to sleep, I usually do a last-minute TV surfing to find out if there are late breaking news in the world out there. Since some radio programs have become live viewing on TV, it has become my habit to “drop” by them and read the latest news updates crawling on the TV screen. “Interrupting” these regular teleradyo programs are news that are breathlessly delivered in crackling street-corner Filipino. (I sometimes imagine myself spoofing them.)

“Dr. Love,” hosted by the 50-ish Brother Jun (a married, lay Dominican), happens to be aired during my last-minute surfing. Brother Jun counsels callers who have all sorts of problems mostly of the heart and about family, including OFWs’ woes. He provides information and Bible-inspired reflections. The program also plays period and inspirational music. One could tell that the program has avid followers. Brother Jun dishes out no-holds-barred and in-your-face responses (“Bakit kasi naghubad ka ng panty?” or “Ang asawa mong kuneho na tinamaan ng kidlat” or something) but which are, I must say, unabashedly Catholic.

Janice was not the only caller last Tuesday night, but she was the one who held the listeners’ breath. She wanted to end her and her children’s lives. She had a problematic husband (uncaring, addicted to gambling) and sick children who, that night, hadn’t had supper. One of them had bleeding gums and another could be heard throwing up. Janice had a doctor’s prescription but she had no money to buy the medicines.

Her crisis had begun long ago. From the sound of her, one could surmise that Janice was at the end of her rope and had no one to turn to. She was ashamed to run to her parents. Although she was working in the Department of Education, her earnings were not enough to support a household. Her husband, who, she said, just got a job after many years of joblessness, was often in the casino.

What did Dr. Love/Brother Jun do? He zeroed in right away on the children and their needs. They should be taken to the hospital, he said. He told Janice to find the doctor’s prescription. (Bad doctor’s handwriting, so she couldn’t read them.) He asked what the kids needed. He and the staff were calling so-and-so and so-and-so for help for the children. Phone lines were burning.

Saturday, October 30, 2010

Weaving meaning into loss

Sunday Inquirer Magazine/FEATURES/By Ma. Ceres P. Doyo

JOY and hope. These a mother continues to weave into the fabric of her life even after a loss that tore into her heart. She wears them like the bright shawls of silk that she fashions from nature's looms.
Rather than dwell in the abyss of grief and sorrow, Jean Margaret ?Jeannie? Lim Goulbourn decided to put meaning into her daughter?s life and death and, by so doing, help those who find themselves on the verge of a similar tragedy.
But it took time for her to gather strength and focus on something that would make sense of the tragedy that shook her family to the core. ?No one ever totally recovers from this,? Jeannie muses of her daughter?s death.

What makes the difference is this woman?s will to work it out and joyfully rise above it.

A former fashion model known for her distinct oriental look, Jeannie is also a noted fashion designer, entrepreneur (Silk Cocoon) and now a passionate health and nutrition advocate (Global Vital Source). She is wife to Canadian Sydney Goulbourn and mother of two beautiful and talented daughters, Katrina and Natasha. Close-knit and happy, the Goulbourns were not prepared for the pain that slammed into their life in 2002.

Jeannie recounts that Natasha, then suffering from depression, was being given a cocktail of medication by her doctor. The lethal dose ended her life on May 23, 2002 at the age of 27.

At the time of her death, Natasha had just finished working with an international fashion company in Hong Kong and was going into her own product line. There was a lot going for her. Her international education and travels had exposed her to enriching opportunities. She had a very supportive family.

"She and her sister Katrina were very close," Jeannie says. ?They were born 15 months apart. They were like twins."

Jeannie would rather not dwell on the details of Natasha?s passing, as per her daughter?s wishes communicated to her vicariously. The Goulbourns grieved Natasha's passing as a family but each one grieved in his/her own way. A mother?s pain of loss is like no other. Jeannie searched for answers. And, to her surprise and comfort, she found some. Natasha provided them, she adds.

"Several weeks after Natasha died, our family and close friends went back to Puerto Galera where we last spent a beautiful weekend together," Jeannie recalls. On their return trip to Batangas port, all Jeannie wanted was a sign that would tell her where Natasha was. Natasha loved dolphins so Jeannie asked to be shown dolphins, with their number signifying where her daughter was. They all got on a boat to scour the open seas.

Lo and behold, a pod of dolphins suddenly showed up. Not five, not 10, but more than a hundred of them jumping, dancing and prancing to the delight of everyone. Even the boatmen were amazed at what they saw, they had never witnessed anything like it, Jeannie recounts. "I knelt and grabbed my rosary and promised to serve the Lord in this mission through the Natasha Goulbourn Foundation."

There were other signs after that. Jeannie went to Hong Kong to visit Natasha's favorite haunts and as she was entering the lobby of the Hyatt hotel she heard strains of her daughter's favorite tunes being played as if on cue. "Moon River, March of the Siamese Children and Fur Elise," Jeannie recalls.

Later, Jeannie would receive an unusual gift from a friend that would lead her to a medium based in London through whom, she says, Natasha communicated with her. "Natasha said she owed Peter, her flatmate in Hong Kong, two weeks' rent and that I should pay him." How the medium could have known that, Jeannie could only wonder. "Through another medium she told me I would save five lives. And through the help of Dr. Rene Yat, I did!"

Jeannie can now bravely look back and share her observations. "I remember Natasha was not sleeping well and was losing weight. But she seemed happy and was very focused on her work. Or maybe she was a very good actress. Then she broke up with her boyfriend."

Jeannie describes Natasha as happy, gregarious and friendly. "Then I observed how her personality changed after she started taking medication. We had her see a psychiatrist who gave her anti-depressants. She did tell us that there was something about the medication, that she felt funny and lightheaded. Her perception of reality changed. She had mood swings, she avoided crowds." These were warning signs.

Three months later, Natasha was gone. "It was a case of wrong medication and overmedication," Jeannie says firmly. "Through the medium, Natasha said she does not remember how it happened and that we should not sue the doctor. But how many lives under his care had been lost? A year and a half later, the doctor took his own life."

Jeannie insists that anti-depressant drugs should carry strong warnings. "In America, there is a warning on the package and in ads, saying that anti-depressants increase the risk of suicidal thoughts and behavior. Patients need heavy monitoring." She strongly suggests that a patient taking such drugs should have notarized written instructions for responsible persons to take over when the patient is not in a proper mental state.

"According to statistics, less than 30 percent of those taking anti-depressants get better, but a local psychiatrist admitted that it could only be 10 percent effective. In the end, talk therapy and family support are most helpful."

Jeannie is not totally anti-medication, but she is becoming increasingly biased for proper nutrition and exercise to enhance one?s physical and mental state. These she advocates through her wellness company. "There are new accepted modalities such as hypnosis, acupuncture and energy healing," she informs.

In 2007, the Goulbourn family set up the Natasha Goulbourn Foundation (NGF), whose chief aim is "bringing depression to light.? NGF aims ?to share with the world the need for education and information on depression" what it is, what causes it, how to manage it and how to heal from it.? Depression can be treated and those afflicted must seek the correct help. Suicide, NGF strongly reminds, should not be an option.

NGF has linked up with UGAT, In Touch Community Services and Dial-a-Friend, that provide hotlines for those seeking help.

"Depression is highly treatable and curable," Jeannie says. "It is not insanity. We must remove the stigma." She wants to see NGF reach out to corporations, schools, communities, OFWs and their families. "We have a team of lecturers who can speak on wholeness, on how to achieve spiritual, emotional and physical well-being."

Jeannie adds: "Scientists have discovered that hormone-enhanced meat, vegetables sprayed with pesticides and chemical fertilizers are some factors that cause chemical imbalance in the brain."

In this season of remembering, Jeannie?s thoughts constantly turn to Natasha. ?My faith was shaken. This girl had a lot of dreams for the poor, the sick and the aged. She had a clear purpose. How could we allow these to go to waste? But there is a reason for everything. Natasha was really on loan to us, and she had a purpose."#

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Very low fertility in Asia: A Study

Philippine Daily Inquirer/OPINION/by Ma. Ceres P. Doyo
WHILE THERE is an urgent need and reason to manage the Philippines’ galloping population increase in relation to the country’s economic ability/inability to provide quality life for the teeming millions who live in penury, there is also reason to pause a while and look at what is happening to our wealthy Asian neighbors.

The current issues on reproductive health and population control have triggered acrimonious debates between the pro- and the anti-RH bill, between the Church hierarchy and the sponsors of the bill and among citizens of various persuasions and religious beliefs. The arguments from different sides have been exhausted and presented. What is ahead for us?

A recent study on fertility problems in Asia released by the East-West Center is worth looking into. The study, “Very Low Fertility in Asia: Is There a Problem? Can It Be Solved?” was done by Sidney B. Westley, Minja Kim Choe and Robert D. Retherford and released a few months ago.

The East-West Center is a US-based “independent, non-profit organization with funding from the US government and additional support from private agencies, individuals, corporations and governments in the (Asia-Pacific) region.” Founded 50 years ago in 1960, the center is on the University of Hawaii campus in Honolulu. Hundreds of Filipinos have passed through its portals. (I was an East-West Center journalism fellow.)

The summary of the study on fertility says: “Fifty years ago, women in Asia were having, on average, more than five children each, and there was widespread fear of a ‘population explosion’ in the region. Then the birth rates began to fall—in several countries more steeply than anyone had anticipated. This unexpected trend has now raised concerns about the social and economic impact of extremely low fertility.

“Today, four of Asia’s most prosperous economies—Japan, Singapore, South Korea and Taiwan—have among the lowest birth rates in the world. With women having, on average, only one child each, these societies have expanding elderly populations and a shrinking workforce to pay for social services and drive economic growth.”

The study asks: Why are women choosing to have so few children? How are policymakers responding to these trends? What is the effect of government efforts to encourage marriage and childbearing?

I quote the stark prediction: “Given current social and economic trends, it is unlikely that Asia’s steep fertility decline will be reversed, at least not in the foreseeable future.”

Just a little note: “Fertility decline” almost sounds as if the women in those countries suddenly became infertile because of some clinical maladies triggered by a nuclear fall-out, a deadly epidemic, computer radiation or something. What the study simply means is that women (men should be faulted as well) choose not to bear children or bear only so few. This is not about clogged fallopian tubes or low sperm count.

As a Filipino, my reflex reaction would be to say that given our own unabated population increase, we could easily supply these “infertile” countries with man/womanpower. In fact, we are already doing that. Not because we are concerned about their vanishing population but because Filipinos continue to populate the earth with wild abandon and need to survive.

Very low fertility in Asia: A Study

WHILE THERE is an urgent need and reason to manage the Philippines’ galloping population increase in relation to the country’s economic ability/inability to provide quality life for the teeming millions who live in penury, there is also reason to pause a while and look at what is happening to our wealthy Asian neighbors.

The current issues on reproductive health and population control have triggered acrimonious debates between the pro- and the anti-RH bill, between the Church hierarchy and the sponsors of the bill and among citizens of various persuasions and religious beliefs. The arguments from different sides have been exhausted and presented. What is ahead for us?

A recent study on fertility problems in Asia released by the East-West Center is worth looking into. The study, “Very Low Fertility in Asia: Is There a Problem? Can It Be Solved?” was done by Sidney B. Westley, Minja Kim Choe and Robert D. Retherford and released a few months ago.

The East-West Center is a US-based “independent, non-profit organization with funding from the US government and additional support from private agencies, individuals, corporations and governments in the (Asia-Pacific) region.” Founded 50 years ago in 1960, the center is on the University of Hawaii campus in Honolulu. Hundreds of Filipinos have passed through its portals. (I was an East-West Center journalism fellow.)
The summary of the study on fertility says: “Fifty years ago, women in Asia were having, on average, more than five children each, and there was widespread fear of a ‘population explosion’ in the region. Then the birth rates began to fall—in several countries more steeply than anyone had anticipated. This unexpected trend has now raised concerns about the social and economic impact of extremely low fertility.
“Today, four of Asia’s most prosperous economies—Japan, Singapore, South Korea and Taiwan—have among the lowest birth rates in the world. With women having, on average, only one child each, these societies have expanding elderly populations and a shrinking workforce to pay for social services and drive economic growth.”

The study asks: Why are women choosing to have so few children? How are policymakers responding to these trends? What is the effect of government efforts to encourage marriage and childbearing?

I quote the stark prediction: “Given current social and economic trends, it is unlikely that Asia’s steep fertility decline will be reversed, at least not in the foreseeable future.”

Thursday, October 21, 2010

The sex life of the urban poor (2)

I DIDN’T expect lots of e-mail for a feature story I wrote 20 years ago and which I recycled and compressed for this column (last week and now) in the context of the ongoing recycled debate on reproductive health.

Those who want to read my entire magazine piece (“Just a few meters of loving space,” Sunday Inquirer Magazine, Nov. 26, 1990) from which this column piece was recycled could go to my blogsite. I will post it there. It’s also in my book “Journalist in Her Country” which is out of print. I went over the entire piece and realized it would need to be serialized in three columns. But as I said last week, two columns and no more. I also removed some graphic scenes. Deleted portions include sociological observations by professor Michael Tan (before he became an Inquirer columnist).
(Continued from last week)


Carlito Martes, 38, and wife Teresita, 37, have been married 18 years. They have six children, aged 18 to 2. Laking Maynila, the couple started married life with an elopement. They now live in the Leveriza slums. Carlito works as a mason, Teresita as a laundry woman. She is a member of Alay Kapwa, a community cooperative.
The family’s abode, 20 square meters, hardly gives anyone privacy. And with so many children around, the couple had to make a “papag” practically in mid-air, a “mezzanine” that functioned as their bed. For some reason, that “papag” had to be removed. “Walang papag, dieta,” quips Carlito, adding that sometimes they forget to have sex. “Nakakalimutan na rin.” Once a month is how regular it is and because there’s no more papag they have to have sex in a rush—“baka may magising.” When he’s had some drinks, then “doon ko lang ginagalaw.” Because there’s hardly enough space, fancy positions are out. “Pang-prostitute lang daw yun,” Teresita quotes Carlito.

“I used an IUD (intraurine device) for nine years,” Teresita reveals. But twice she had infections because of it. She resorted to the pill, but after experiencing dizzy spells she stopped taking it. After nine years she gave birth again—to twins.

“We’ve never had a time to go out and be by ourselves,” complains Teresita.

“Mabubuhay ka ba ng puro ganun,” Maria Cabello repeatedly points her finger downward, “kung ang tiyan ay kukulo-kulo?” Maria is a full-time housewife while her husband Diosdado is a photographer at the Manila Zoo. He charges P20 per shot, P10 of which goes to him, the other P10 to the laboratory men. The Cabellos, both in their late 30s, have four children aged 16 to 11. The couple did not finish high school.