Tatay Manuel

A Youngblood article from The Philippine Daily Inquirer really struck a chord, and an emotional one if I may say so.

It tells the story of Tatay Manuel, a farmer-forcibly-turned-fisherfolk from Hagonoy, Bulacan. The article was written by the author retelling his student days when he was still immersed in community service where he met him. It tells a tale of struggle that gets pushed down from mountains of tabloid headlines of corruption and Manny Pacquiao that it becomes virtually unheard of. Tatay Manuel was a farmer but money-hungry capitalists took over his farmland and made it into commercial fishponds. This forced him to work as the attendant of these ponds under measly working conditions. When social workers informed him about his rights as an employee, Tatay Manuel sought out equal and fair treatment from his employers. Sadly, he was among the first one to be laid off because of this uprising. Struck with poverty, he was forced to leave his children to a relative for them to be fed properly and this made his children hate him, being mistaken as a bad father who selfishly left his kids. Shortly after the author left the community to get back to his studies, he found out that Tatay Manuel was abducted along with 2 UP activists and was later burned to death. I apologize to the author for retelling Tatay Manuel’s story in a poorly-written summary so I commend him for writing such a wonderfully-moving piece. Certainly one of the few Young blood articles I’ve enjoyed reading so far since it has become the haven of shallow personal rants and romantic diary stories that are better left to be read in blog sites like these, not in a newspaper.

It was really a touching story. I remember when I was still in college and the stories I heard from my tibak (activist) friend Em. To rest ourselves from pharmaceutical calculations and molecular bonds, we would often talk about something like this as a breather. Tatay Manuel’s story is what compels activists like her to go to far-flung areas (they call it pamumundok) and help people with their struggles. When you really listen to what these Rambo-wearing, sweaty protesters have to say, you would understand the stories behind their chants and their big placards. That they’re not just out there and sticking it to the man. That they're not just not Communist naysayers of the government shouting nonsense. Struggles and inequities do exist in places our government chooses to ignore. And there are hundreds of suffering and silenced Tatay Manuels out there with the same story of oppression.

 I remember Em telling me to boycott Nescafe products since as what she explained, just like Tatay Manuel, the coffee farmers are being exploited by fascist conglomerates companies like Nescafe. I remember Nickson and Doctor Gene when talking about the poor health status of people in Samar and Leyte. Tatay Manuel’s story is one of the many unheard of plights that common people, who have no access to rightful information, struggle with everyday. There are many nameless faces that have been wrongfully abducted and silenced. Reading Tatay Manuel’s story made all of these stories came rushing back to me. I remember them now. I know them. But what have I done so far? Knowing that I’ve completely sold out and have done nothing to help makes me feel ashamed of myself. What happened?

A few weeks ago I was mulling over the concept of ‘my great ambition’. What is my greatest ambition? I toyed with several choices. A doctor who saves lives. A businessman who can financially sustain my older parents. A published writer who has a bestseller book. These are not bad dreams. But I’ve finally come to a conclusion that at this moment, my greatest ambition is to live with a purpose. Sounds easy for some but not for me. I want my epitaph to read: he who has lived and died with a purpose. Ack, it sounds melodramatic; but hey, it’s what I want to do.

Reading Tatay Manuel’s story made realize that I really need to get back to school and fast. I'm not getting any younger and I need to get my degree. It also makes me feel that my choice to pursue Social Work is the best way for me to finally serve people. Just the thought of me going to remote places, meeting diverse folks, living their lives and being able to share and help them with their struggles gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling inside. (Insert embarrassed laugh). It’s hard for me to explain, really. But for the first time in a very long while, I feel that it’s the right thing for me to do. I want to do it. I need to. And I know I’m going to be good at it.

I realize that I always sound like my idealistic 17-year old self whenever I think about my dream as a social worker. But I just can't help it. I would never let go of my idealism, ever. I truly believe that this country can still change. Hoping that someday I would be able to change the life of at least one person for the better, it keeps me driven to pursue my passion. And life without passion is like not having lived at all.

Tatay Manuel, if you are reading this from wherever you are, I’d like to give you a hug. You were an honorable man who has lived his principles to the end. I admire you and hope to be like you someday.  And thank you for reminding me of my place in this world. I’d like to say I’m sorry for only getting my act together now but I promise that I will serve others like you. 

Hintayin mo lang.  

To have lived and died with a purpose...

People paying respect to Manuel Merino or Tatay Manuel
photo courtesy of karapatan.org