The Struggle for Good Governance

After 2 years of working for the government, and a decade of pursuing what I'd like to call my "dream job", I find myself at the crossroads of battling perspectives. One way says, there is hope. The other route offers a more negative inclination to that almost surreal and bitter reality that is: there is no way our country is going to rise above corruption and that all the efforts of the present administration to fight it is nothing but a staged farce; a soap opera designed to lure the public into believing that YES, our savior is here at last: Bright days ahead for the country.

Let me leave the issue about the pork barrel and the "Napolist" to the expert solons of the legislative branch, (I'm damn sure the great Greek Athenian and Statesman Solon must be rolling in his grave now, having used his name to refer to our "honorable" senators) who I'm damn sure can handle it will all due prudence and wisdom. Leave it to the irony that is, 12 of the members of the body conducting the legislative inquiry are actually implicated on the scandal. Dear friends, that is the gruesome reality that we have been fated to endure as citizens of this blessed country. 

Allow me to ponder on what's more tangible, what we, as public servants and as ordinary citizens of this god forsaken country encounter every day: The constant tussle between principle, character, and vested interests. Of course we’ll always have that eternal excuse of fighting for our own survival. The “Me” against “You”. Lest we forget what we stand for, rather what our/your department/agency stands for.

The struggle for good governance is a struggle from within. For how can we lead other people to that narrow path of righteousness if we keep on swaying the other way? Take the case of the Sangguniang Kabataan (SK) for example. To say that the SK only serves as a breeding ground for corruption or future corrupt politicians is a fallacy. It is only when you corrupt their innocent minds that will make them what we are all scared they will become.

Corruption takes on different forms. It doesn’t only take embezzlement of public funds or a plundering government official to rape a country’s economy and its people. In philosophical, moral or even theological discussions, corruption may be defined as a deviation from an ideal. It can take as simple as coming in to work at 10 am and leaving by 3pm while taking a whole day’s worth of pay to something “petty” as pocketing a dime out of an activity intended for the public or something far more impressive like an old government employee who prides himself with his cunning mischievous ways and expects you to respect that he has in fact set a precedence of moral impunity.

I do not know how long the fires of idealism would burn for me. I do not know if 5 to 10 years from now, I will no longer be the writer of this piece but a subject of it. But if I do drown with that overflowing river of complacency and decadence, tap me on the back and slap me with a quote or 2 from this article while kicking me on the nutsack.

I remember a line from Conrado De Quiros’ “The Idealism of the Youth” that says “There are many pitfalls along the way. In this country more than others, those pitfalls are everywhere waiting to waylay you. Chief of them is the criteria of success this society will inexorably impose on you. Criteria that have to do with how much wealth and power you have accumulated. You have neither, you will be judged a failure. You want neither, you will be deemed obscure.”

The struggle for good governance is a struggle from within. It does not depend on whether or not those three senators (and the rest of them guilty) will be jailed or fed to a colony of fire ants. It is within amongst us, ordinary citizens and public officials, slowly rising and taking on the responsibility of our calling, of our oath.

Only then can it be won.

A Test of Spirit

When I got to my seat on the plane, that's when it all sank in. My wife's tight embrace and my son's soothing smile are the most irreplaceable things that I will dearly miss as I try to rise up to the challenge of seeking a new life in Singapore.

6 months ago, I was walking the streets of Bedok South with them. I took bus and train rides with my son on my shoulder. I held hands with my wife through the parks and subways of Singapore. now its a totally different thing when you're gonna have to do it alone.

Its funny because when I was back home, I couldn't wait to get out. Everything that is there to love about human existence has eluded the Philippines. I'm probably gonna be first to say I hate my country. From its discolored past and every corrupt government official that leeches every Filipino dry to the lowest organism in its infamous bureaucracy. From its insanely ridiculous conservatism that has held our country from moving forward up to the most high and mighty of our catholic church that sticks its fingers to every freakin' issue with their holier than thou attitude. The Filipino society, with its hopeless romanticism with all things tragic, scandalous, miraculous, dramatic, libelous and finds comfort with the mundane, has doomed itself to becoming the perpetual Sick Man of Asia. 

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Which is why its easy to fall in love with a country like Singapore. Who doesn't want order, cleanliness and discipline? Sure people here have complaints and things to whine about like the rising costs of living which has been going on for a number of years now but anyone who's been here would say its so much better here.

Basic fact, people move to another country because they want a better life. Its hard because you have to leave the people you love behind. My friend says, you can't have your own success story without that part of overcoming trials or making sacrifices, and I jokingly said "Wouldn't it be nice to have it all easy?" 

I know nothing's easy, and if this will be my test, then I'll take it head on. Walking the streets without my wife holding my hand or my son on my shoulder will be tough but I guess I have to endure it. Yes, I will always be a Filipino but I refuse to die like a sick man who willingly got devoured by his own kind.

An Instrument of Change

I grew up at a time when political turmoil was at its peak, Our entire nation was fed up with the bondage of oppression and dictatorship. I was 3 years old when her husband, the late Senator Ninoy Aquino was assasinated at the tarmac of NAIA.  I can still remember the image of Ninoy lying face down at the airport from our black and white TV, I did not understand what was going on then, all I can recall was the image of a lifeless man.

3 years later, Corazon Aquino became the face that spawned change in our country's history. The world turned its eyes on the Philippines as it watched the most peaceful uprising the world will ever know. In its center was Ninoy Aquino's widow, who will later become the president who restored democracy in our country, after over 2 decades of military rule, wrought by injustice and cruelty.

The only president who served with honesty and integrity, now leaves us with memories of her selflessness and enduring faith in God. I never realized how much impact she created in my political subconscious until her passing. And its sad that its more often true in all human dealings. We only realize how much a person means to us when he's/she's gone.

The entire country mourned her passing, I mourn for her and the ideals she fought for, democracy might forever be a concept and may never be attainable for as long as there are people who pervertedly uses power as a means for control and gain. In her death we lost a great leader, and lost the embodiment of conscience and honesty. We lost our conscience. She was an instrument of change. But the times has changed along with the meaning of democracy. Its no longer a government of the people for the people and by the people, it may very well be a government of some people, for some people and by some people.

Let us not taint the memory of Corazon Aquino with false hopes and failed dreams, honor her by restoring faith in the true meaning of democracy. Only then can we be worthy of her sacrifice and call her Tita Cory.