I know that I am one of the many bloggers among many Filipinos in the Philippines and around the world writing about former President Corazon Aquino. For this, I aim to be more personal as I can.
Ninoy Aquino was assassinated when I just turned 13. I was in my first months in the minor seminary, the first months of the so-called "detachment" from the "world", including things related to mass media -- no radio, no TV, all books and magazines are checked... and the newspaper for the day is cut and posted on a special board a la communist era. Our seminarian-teachers were telling us this big news. Yet, honestly, I really did not understand why such a man would be assassinated... or who he really was.
It was only in my first vacation since I entered the seminary (around late October to early November 1983) that one afternoon my mother told meto set the betamax machine -- yes, betamax days! -- and asked me to watch a tape that was just lent to her. She made sure our front door was closed and that the volume of the television was not heard outside. The tape contained the news about Ninoy Aquino's assassination, the wake and the funeral procession that lasted for hours. While watching, my mother would give me some words about who this Ninoy was. I can say that was when I was enlightened that the present government of Marcos was far, far different from the admiration that was made felt on us as kids. Yes, talk about growing in a subtle brainwashing environment!
From that moment, I felt my mind getting opened to the reality, to the value of true democracy, to the determination to true freedom. And so, in our 3rd year, our teachers and the usual posted newspapers (a new "balanced news, fearless views" Inquirer was also there!) made me pray and pray more as history was being unfolded before our eyes -- the widow, the housewife, the inexperienced woman was to challenge Marcos in the snap elections. The Sunday before the elections, we were asked to go home with our families after that Visiting Day since we did not know what would happen. At home, I was made to listen to a recording of Cory Aquino's rally in our town of Binan. Even if I wasn't there, the atmosphere was just so electric! Just hearing the cheers of people after Cory said, "Handa kong ibigay ang buhay ko para sa bayan!" was just making my hairs stand. The elections came and we had to go back to the seminary. Three weeks later, the People Power Revolution!
We were like 70 kms. away from Manila. It was useless to send us home to our families. Our Father Principal canceled all classes and made us stay in the audio visual room watching the live coverage of the most peaceful revolution in history. There was a day when we thought Marcos had left and we were applauding in our classrooms one morning. Yet, on that same day, after lunch, we rushed to find our superiors' TV room door open and saw this woman in yellow getting inaugurated as President. I was only 15. But I felt so proud to be Filipino!
I believe Cory was not the best President of the Philippines. But all I can say is that she was magic... or, in the language of faith, she was God's grace! Her simplicity as President, her
sense of piety, her decency, her patience, her candor... she just actually exemplified what the Filipino -- stripped of any ambition, riches, titles or accomplishments -- really admire and long for.
Cory's death for me is grace itself. And I pray that the Filipino would be awakened to the reality of what the Philippines really needs for its next leader. Cory's death was truly made at the right time when we are months away from another election. May the long lines, the yellow ribbons, the confetti, the chants, the masses, vigils and prayers, the reawakening of the meaning of EDSA 1986, awaken the ordinary Filipino from the illusions of selfishness and greed.
Funny, really... this is just one of the few moments when I am proud to be Filipino
-- at a time when an "icon of democracy" has died!
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