Awake in the interregnum

Mahal kong mambabasa,

Simula ngayong linggo, ititigil muna namin ang paglalabas ng dyaryong inyong tinangkilik sa nakaraang anim na taon. Isa itong masakit na desisyong ibinunga, hindi ng pagkasawang maglingkod sa inyo, kundi ng krisis pang-ekonomiyang sumasaklob sa buong bansa. Sadyang hindi kayang mabuhay, sa ngayon, ng isang progresibong pahayagan na inuuna ang hangaring makapagsilbi sa interes ng malawak na mardyinalisadong mga mamamayan kaysa sa interes ng kapital, o ng iilang nakagiginhawa na’t dominante pa rin ang makasariling tinig sa mass media.

Sabi nga nila, isang tinig ang nananahimik tuwing nagsasara ang isang dyaryo. Sa aming kaso, tinig ninyo–mga manggagawa, magsasaka, maralitang lungsod, kababaihan, estudyante, migrante, empleyado ng gobyerno at ng iba pang batayang sektor na nagpapatakbo ngunit siya ring inaapi’t inaalipin sa lipunan–ang mawawala.

Hindi ito tuluyan, dahil ipagpapatuloy namin ang paglalathala ng parehong de-kalidad na mga artikulo sa aming website. Pero sa bansa nating atrasado pa, mapagkumbaba kong aaminin, limitado ang saklaw na naaabot ng internet. Marami sa inyo, marahil, hindi nakakaharap sa kompiyuter dahil subsob sa pangaraw-araw na paghahanapbuhay o di kaya sa samu’t saring pakikibaka. Gayunpaman, ang kahit anong lagusan ay dapat samantalahin. Ineengganyo ko kayong buksan ang http://www.pinoyweekly.org tuwing may panahon at pagkakataon.

Simula’t sapul, malinaw ang layunin ng dyaryong ito: na maging dyaryo ng masa at para sa masa. Kailanman hindi namin kayo itinrato, gaya ng mainstream na mass media, na balon na maaaring pagkakitaan o mga utak na kayang paikutin para paigtingin pa ang elitistang kontrol sa lipunan. Narito kami para magmulat at magpakilos para sa pagbabagong hangad nating lahat.

Kaya’t tunay na nakabibiyak ng puso ang mawalay sa inyo, lalo sa panahon ngayon ng napakatinding krisis na pang-ekonomiya’t pampulitika–sama-sama sana nating binabagtas ito tungo sa mas malalim na pagkakaunawa at pakikisangkot bilang mga mamamayan. Pero maging kami ay biktima ng pananalasa ng nasabing krisis. Ang kalayaan sa pamamamahayag ay tulad din ng kalayaan ng bayan–huwad, dahil para lamang sa iilan na may kapangyarihan sa bisa ng kapital, at hindi ng prinsipyo.

Gayunpaman, nais kong pasalamatan kayo. Ang anim na taon kong pagsusulat para sa dyaryong ito ang bumubuo sa gulugod ng aking pagkatao. Marami akong natutunan sa paglangoy kapwa sa hanay ninyo at sa mga institusyon ng gobyernong dapat naglilingkod sa inyo. Bilang mamamahayag, nakita ko ang samu’t saring mukha ng pang-aapi at pagpapahirap sa mga mamamayan ng Estado na naninikluhod lamang sa mga negosyante’t dayuhan. Sa kalakhan, mahilig ito sa palusot sa kalokohan, paliwanag sa kapalpakan, pagpapabango sa sitwasyon, pagbibida ng kasinungalingan, at pandarahas sa paglaban.

Hindi mo kailangang maging mamamahayag para makita ito. Pero kailangan mong maging mamamahayag para maipaliwanag ito sa paraang magaang pero malaman at komprehensibo; at sa paraang lumilitaw at nararamdaman ang konkretong epekto ng mga usaping pambansa sa inyong sari-sariling buhay.

Pinakamasarap sa trabahong ito ang pakikisalamuha sa inyo–ang mapayaman ng inyong buhay at pakikibaka tuwing naririnig ang tungkol sa inyong mga sakripisyo, daing, pagsusumikap, at pangarap. Ang aking pagmamalasakit, pagmamahal, at higit sa lahat, pagpupugay sa inyong diwang palaban ang linggu-linggo kong sinubok patagusin sa mga sulatin (sa anyo man ng suring-balita, lathalain, o simpleng balita) at larawan.

Hinugutan ko ng mahahalagang aral ang mahaba-haba ring karanasan ng peryodismo para sa taumbayan. Kung nagkulang man ako, asahan ninyong pagsusumikapan ko, at ng iba pang manunulat ng Pinoy Weekly, na lalong magpahusay sa pagpapaabot sa inyo ng mga impormasyon at pagsusuring sandata para sa ikauunlad at ikalalaya ng bayan. Nawala man ang dyaryo, nariyan pa rin kami sa alternatibong espasyong tinatawag na cyberspace, o kung hindi man, sa mga larangang makapag-aambag pa rin sa kilusan para sa panlipunang pagbabago.

Hindi lamang ang tradisyunal na tungkuling maglabas ng mga katotohanan ang aming tinanganan sa Pinoy Weekly. Higit pa rito, naniniwala kaming ang aktibong pagpanig sa inyo, na tagapamandila di lamang ng katotohanan kundi maging ng katuwiran, ang pinakamataas na tungkulin (at karangalan) para sa isang mamamahayag. Muli, maraming salamat sa pambihirang pagkakataon. Anu’t anuman ang mangyari, umasa kayong uusbong at uusbong pa rin ang isang pahayagang matapat, mapanuri, at makabayan, dahil ito ang inyong hinihingi at nararapat sa inyo.

Ilang-Ilang D. Quijano (Manunulat at Online Editor, Pinoy Weekly)

* Inilathala sa Pinoy Weekly, Bolyum 7 Blg. 23, Hunyo 18 - 24, 2008

Hindi siguro inakala ng mga taga-midya, na malamang noon ay bumubuwelo pa lamang sa pagkokober ng isa na namang taon ng mga sakuna at kontrobersiya, na magiging bahagi sila ng unang malaking eksena ng 2008. Isang advisory na inilabas ng Department of Justice ang nagbabala: ituturing na kriminal ang sinumang miyembro ng midya na susuway sa utos ng pulisya o militar sa panahon ng emergency. Ang sitwasyong-krisis sa mga rebeldeng sundalong Magdalo sa Manila Pen noong Nobyembre 29 at ang papel ng midya na nanatili sa loob ng otel nang sinalakay ito ng mga awtoridad ang pinaghalawan ng babala. Agad umalma ang mga grupo ng mga mamamahayag at lahat ng mga naniniwalang hindi dapat ikriminalisa ang trabahong ihatid sa mga mamamayan ang balita.

Makaraan ang ilang araw, marahil dahil na-presyur si DOJ Sek. Raul Gonzalez na ipaliwanag ang kautusang lubos na kinamumuhian lalo ng mga naniniwala sa liberal na demokrasya, isang destabilization plot o planong patalsikin sa poder si Arroyo ang inilahad na dahilan ng pagbababala sa midya. Ang petsa: Enero 22, ika-21 anibersaryo ng Mendiola Massacre. Huling araw ito ng Lakbayan o Martsa para sa Lupa, Pagkain, at Hustisyang Sosyal ng mga magsasaka mula pa sa malalayong rehiyon ng Timog Katagalugan, Bikol, Gitnang Luzon, Cagayan Valley, at Hilagang Luzon. Puntirya ng libu-libong mga magsasaka ang Mendiola, oo, pero hindi sila nahihibang isipin na mapapatalsik nila sa pagkilos na iyon ang isang pangulong, sa tuso at dahas, ay walang dadaig sa pagkapit sa kapangyarihang nakaw. Nais lamang nilang idaing kay Arroyo, tulad ng mga magsasaka noong 1987 kay dating pangulong Aquino, ang gutom at kawalang-hustisya na patuloy na namamayani sa kanayunang di pagmamay-ari nilang mga naglilinang ng lupa.

Pero heto na’t may tangkang busalan ang midya. Heto na’t inaresto ang limang sundalo na binansagang kasamahan ng mga rebeldeng Magdalo at diumano’y nasa akto ng paghahatid ng mga armas (Ang nabawing tatlong riple laban sa 10,000 pulis na ipapakalat sa Mendiola?) Ginagawa ng gobyerno ang lahat para mag-anyong destabilization plot ang isang lehitimong protestang kinakatawan ang nag-uumapaw na diskuntento ng mga mamamayan sa pang-ekonomiya at pampulitikang lagay ng bansa. Paulit-ulit na ang tugon ng mga lider ng oposisyon na ilan beses nang pilit idinawit sa parehong mga balak diumano. Ayon kay Anakpawis Rep. Crispin Beltran: “Anong gagawin namin sa gobyernong na-destabilize na ang sarili niya?”

Walang simpatiyang makukuha si Arroyo mula sa publikong sawa na, hindi sa mga protestang kung tutuusin maliliit at kakaunti pa, kundi sa gobyernong baon na sa leeg sa sariling kawalanghiyaan, mahilig pang mag-imbento ng mga multong nagsasawira lamang sa alaala ng pinakamarurumi nitong krimen. Marami na ang humihiling noon pa man ng pagpapatalsik sa pangulo, bakit sila susuporta sa praning na mga hakbang para pigilan ang isang pinagbibintangang plano?

Sa kabuuan, at pinatutunayan ng kasalukuyang pagtrato sa Lakbayan, wala nang pagbabalatkayo ang pagmamalupit ng gobyernong Arroyo sa mga magsasaka, na mayorya ng mga Pilipino. Tuwing sila’y nagsasama-sama sa lansangan, tinatawag silang mga destabilizer at binabalewala ang panawagan para sa tunay na reporma sa lupa. Tuwing sila’y nagsasama-sama sila sa kanayunan, tinatawag silang mga NPA, tinotortyur, at pinapatay (Ang pinakahuli ay si Teldo Rebamonte, dinukot ng Regional Mobile Group sa Masbate at natagpuan ang bangkay noong Enero 12).

Pero noong Disyembre lamang, ginamit ang mga magsasaka ng Sumilao, Bukidnon, para ibida ang Comprehensive Agrarian Reform Program at muling magmukhang maka-magsasaka (Huli niyang tinangka ito nang maglabas ng mga campaign poster na nag-aani siyang kuno, kumpleto ng kamisa-de-chino at sombrero). Nagdeklarang ibabalik ang lupaing kinamkam ng San Miguel Foods Inc. sa kanilang mga nagmartsa ng 1,700 kilometro makarating lamang ng Malakanyang. Ngayon, nasa Maynila muli ang 12 sa mga magsasaka para ireklamong di itinigil ng kompanya ang konstruksiyon sa kanilang lupa sa kabila ng utos ng pangulo.

Hindi mga destabilizer sa mata ng DOJ ang 55 magsasaka ng Sumilao, na may pareho namang karaingan sa 5,000 magsasakang naglakbay din at magpoprotesta sa Enero 22. Tulad ng mga bata sa Payatas at iba pang mukha ng karalitaan na pana-panahong niyayakag sa tabi ng pangulo, kinailangan ang mga magsasaka para likhain ang imahe ng pagka-mesiya ni Arroyo, na sa puntong ito ng kanyang pamumuno (isaisip na lamang ang P728-M Fertilizer Fund Scam) ay lalong nagiging kasuklam-suklam makita sa telebisyon o dyaryo. Kinailangan din ni Arroyo ang midya. Bagkus, hindi mga kriminal kung ituring ang mga mamamahayag na nagkober sa pagkawala ng hapis ng mga magsasakang pinaunlakan at pinangakuan ng pangulo, kahit di ito totoong balita (ang Manila Pen takeover ay kaganapang aktuwal, ang land takeover ay di maitaga sa bato maging ng Department of Agrarian Reform). Ito ang istabilidad sa pamamagitan ng panlilinlang—mabilis at mapayapa, bagaman pansamantala.

Ang istabilidad sa pamamagitan ng pananakot at dahas naman ay inirereserba para sa mga ayaw magpalinlang—tulad ng mga taga-midyang piniling maging saksi sa isang mahalagang pambansang krisis, tulad ng mga magsasakang tinraydor ng CARP at piniling iasa sa sariling lakas ang paggiit sa karapatan sa lupa’t pagkain. Parami nang parami ang mga tulad nila, kaya di nakapagtataka na ang eksenang sumalubong sa 2008 ay karugtong lamang ng maiigting na eksena ng tunggalian ng nakaraang mga taon.

Bilang mamamahayag, umaasa akong ikokober ko ang isang taon di lamang ng mga sakuna at kontrobersiya, kundi ng tagumpay ng mga di nagpapaloko at naghahanap ng istabilidad sa pamamagitan ng hustisya, na siyang tanging nagtatagal at para sa lahat.

I had been puzzling over it for the past few days. That’s why I was extremely glad that my friend and favorite Philippine Daily Inquirer reporter TJ Burgonio did the story on the bastardization of mural of the Neo-Angono Artists Collective commissioned by the National Press Club. It shed light on why the NPC did in what would be the last nail in the coffin on its stature as the “bastion of press freedom.” Of course, as everyone already knows, the NPC has long lost such a stature, if it ever genuinely had one, considering that it was bestowed not by the nature of its creation as a professional body of a basically reactionary press during the 1950s, but by individual officers (such as Satur Ocampo, Antonio Zumel, Tony Nieva) who eschewed the industry’s neutrality formula and committed themselves to journalism for social change during martial law. To put it mildly, the NPC is an elite organization that has little to do with upholding journalists’ welfare, professional standards, and freedom of the press. But why it would defile a piece of art despite the risk akin to altering a copy, was a mystery until it was reported that it was done for Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo, who was guest of honor at its unveiling. Of course. I should have known that it was only the queen of censorship who thinks that an artwork is as malleable as the headline of an administration newspaper.

The Arroyo regime brands and kills people it terms as “leftists” all over the country. So I guess the Presidential Security Group was acting in the name of counter-insurgency when it hunted the mural for “leftist” signs and had them painted over—obliterated or maimed. In this sense the artists’ creations are similar to the victims of extrajudicial killings, enforced disappearances, and torture. The “bastardization” of the artwork is horrifying on two levels. First is the act itself, a personal and professional affront to the artists and what they call their intellectual property rights. But because their work is on the overtly social theme of press freedom, its defacement is made more ironic and the affront more public. It is a public affront to see Arroyo admiring a mural on the History of Press Freedom devoid of signs that the press is as under seige today as it was during martial law. That she resisted immortalization of “minor” details that would remind of her own present tyranny—the name of the National Union of Journalists of the Philippines on a banner (actively opposed to the killings of journalists under the Arroyo regime), the news of Jonas Burgos’ abduction this year, an editorial of the International Federation of Journalists on the chilling effect of the anti-terrorism law—is a major censorship issue. I imagine that the artists must feel like how journalists who have their stories killed do. Both their creative labors are towards the projection of a certain truth, and denying this truth is not just about denying recognition or respect for their labors, it is about impoverishing public memory.

Yet it must be noted that unlike that of the mass media, the power of a painting nowadays to imprint itself on public memory is highly limited. Physically, the NPC mural is situated at a sad old building hardly anyone but a small mix of journalists, hao-siaos, businessmen, and politicians visit. It speaks not to the masses, although it tries to speak to journalists whose job it is to speak to the masses. Its defilement was meant to satisfy one person and her sycophants. That is perhaps why the NPC officers tried to justify the changes as “minor”. In reality they were trying to downplay the significance of such changes by downplaying the significance of the painting as a whole: exposing it as their private property of select spectators. But the artists, proud of a work that depicts how “press freedom is not only the concern of journalists and writers but of the common people as well,” reproduced it in their website. They know that it carries a message useful to the public in these trying times and which must therefore be popularized.

It is interesting that this popularization that the artists envision took place when the message was destroyed. Or at least on the surface it was destroyed. Because the message was about government censorship and resistance to it—the government censoring this message and the artists resisting it only reinforced it. I guess it was this underlying drama that compelled the PDI to make the story its banner.

Generally speaking, it is ticklish for any news organization to publish stories that would shed bad light on fellow journalists. TJ had asked me, concerned, if I thought that the story was balanced enough (it was). Here the dual tendencies of the mass media emerge. On one hand, you have the NPC becoming complicit in the government’s reactionary moves to tinker with public memory. On the other, you have the PDI exposing this complicity. So what the PSG had claimed they were trying to do—affirming the neutrality of the media by purging both “leftist” and “rightist” elements (although it still evades me why the saloon touch-ups of Randy David and Juan Mercado would make a painting less radical)—is impossible. The press is not and will never be neutral. Although TJ’s story was perfectly fair (it got the side of everyone concerned with the issue), the fact of its writing and landing on the front page was an exercise of a political choice to uphold what shameful industry colleagues preach about but ultimately fail to understand, much less assert: press freedom.

Press freedom, really, is the freedom of journalists and artists to make a choice to either preserve or change the status quo. It is the freedom to be revolutionary like the Katipunan symbol painted on Andres Bonifacio’s arm, or reactionary like the sappy arrow-pierced heart the NPC replaced it with. Historically, the nature of the mass media has been that of the latter. But those with good tastes and good principles know where to stand. That is, like the NPC mural in its original state shows, with the masses.

Rather shocked, I must admit, when a dear friend made a sad comment on what she interpreted this blog to be: and end to “aimless blogging.” Made me momentarily stop and think. I suppose I had rather intended to be more professional about this vain little pasttime—it had struck me that the world wide web really is the worst place to lodge highly personal thoughts you feel silly about afterwards, especially because you allowed practically anyone to read them. And since the sinister Human Security Act and the even more sinister extra-legal machinations of the Arroyo regime, it’s been like walking on eggshells. It’s madness for anyone who ever vocally criticized the government to volunteer even the smallest nuggets of personal information for state agents to coldly pick from your babbles and neatly file away in secret dossiers that try to re-create you to eventually harm you. So for all intents and purposes, my friend is right, this blog is meant to be, well, an intensely purposeful one (hehe). And yet it is not enirely correct to say that I have left aimlessness behind. For how can one ever, as long as one is living in this city where the most meaningless things happen, where even the most dead-set objectives fall through endless cracks? So sometimes, like the irrepressible urge to dangle feet over some high ledge, I reckon thoughts would grope to shape themselves into words that would affirm the eternal usefulness of simply existing for wanderlust.

* * *

Of late, my friends and colleagues have become Angel Locsin’s staunchest defenders. Hehe. Read Kenneth Guda’s Telenovela Killed the Film Star (Then Went On To Save Television) , on the feminist underpinnings of Angel’s move, as well as Teo Marasigan’s Pagtatanggol kay Angel Locsin, on why she is like Sartre (an amazing piece of stretch, but there’s more). Mine is just an observation culled from a one-time coverage and affirmed by her recent appearance at Deal or No Deal. That she sticks out from the rest of the female stars like a sore thumb because of, well, the unpolished (with shades of siga) way she talks and moves, like she wasn’t the bombshell (sorry for the term) that she is. As if she were simply some tough and happy twenty-something doing a job that incidentally made her famous. Don’t blame her if she couldn’t imagine herself doing that demeaning, gyrating MariMar thing that flashes on GMA-7 every so often. Heck, I can’t even imagine her in an Anne Curtis/Bea Alonzo role of doing nothing but sighing and crying and fighting over men. I hope that ABS-CBN does her justice. Hehe.

* * *

Recently appeared on ANC in the presscon held to protest libel cases filed by big corporations against environmental defenders. Technically, I wasn’t an environmental defender, my father (who couldn’t make it) was—I was just the “environmental journalist” (Enteng thought of the description) who put his research into words nearly 7 years ago, hehe. (Read here about the pesticide poisoning issue that made us subject of an ongoing P5.5-M civil case filed by the agricultural company Lapanday) It was really weird being on the other end of the camera and on the receiving end of questions by scribbling colleagues, fretting about subjudice but at the same time immensely proud of being allowed to publicly speak up and align with NGOs who suffer the same problem, perhaps even worse. Center for Environment Concerns faces a P10-M libel suit by Lafayette, the Australian-owned mining company associated with toxic mine tailing spills in Rapu-Rapu, Albay. Almost every publication has written on the issue, and yet the company chose to punish only the most vocal NGO, based on a pamphlet distributed when CEC lobbied Lafayette’s financial stakeholders. Meanwhile, 24 indigenous leaders in Nueva Vizcaya are facing arrest after a successful people’s barricade against the mining company Oxiana Philippine Inc. Lucas Buay, an Ifugao leader who spoke in the presscon, said that they will continue defending their ancestral lands and the watershed despite cases such as “illegal occupancy of forest land” (imagine that!). Anyway, ABS-CBN didn’t use my sound byte for the story (our case wasn’t timely, I guess), but they did keep showing the clip of me talking to their reporter, gesturing how aerial spraying of pesticides is done. Hehe.

Bayan Muna Rep. Teddy Casino is looking to file a bill to prevent SLAPPs (Strategic Lawsuits Against Public Participation). This definition from a US lawyer who helped us:

“Lawsuits that are intended exclusively to stifle criticism have become known among commentators, judges, and politicians as Strategic Lawsuits Against Public Participation or SLAPPs.  SLAPPs have become a favorite response of corporations faced with criticism because the suit need not be successful to serve the purposes of the plaintiff corporations.  As one Canadian judge has noted, ‘[a] SLAPP suit is a claim for monetary damages against individuals who have dealt with a government body on an issue of public interest or concern.  It is a meritless action filed by a plaintiff whose primary goal is not to win the case but rather to silence or intimidate citizens who have participated in proceedings regarding public policy or public decision making.’ Cognizant of the profound chilling effect SLAPPs have on citizens exercising their rights, some countries, most notably the United States, have imposed restrictions on these lawsuits.”

* * *

I have no updates on what had happened after the near massacre and fact-finding mission last July, but please sign the petition to save an organic rice farming community from being evicted from their lands. Also check out their bittersweet story, Braving Bullets: Central Mindanao University Farmers Struggle for Genuine Land Reform, about two decades of collective assertion of rights that enabled them to occupy a land now about to be leased by government to big businesses. Sadly, nowadays such threats are all-too-common. But these farmers’ brilliant history is something else, a red-tag equivalent of front page PDI, only it would not only mean news that is good, but also agitating.

* * *

Since I wasn’t able to include it in my story, I just want to blog about the Malacanang employee (forced retiree) who still hasn’t received his benefits because of a pending case of “illegal use of fake ID.” Here’s what happened. The Office of the President, for an unclear (though it can only be heartless) reason, wanted to stop employees from pawning their ATMs. As you may know, pawning of ATMs—because workers have no other belonging other than the assurance of their next month’s salary—is quite a common practice in this harsh a life. So Malacanang unified their IDs and ATMs (back-to-back). An employee, whose wife is seriously ill, was forced by circumstance to pawn his ATM nonetheless. So when he was asked for his ID he gave the Presidential Security Group a xerox copy instead. This “violation” is now costing him his whole working life’s benefits. This man, whose tasks include carrying the President’s luggage, only sleeps around two hours a day because he has to man a sidecar at night and in the wee hours of the morning just to put food on the table. For the full story on the treachery of Palace employees by Pres. Arroyo and the true effects of the government’s rationalization program, read Dateline Malakanyang: ‘Tanggalan ng Masa’.

“Who becomes character. What becomes plot. Where becomes scene or setting. Why becomes motivation. How becomes narrative.” ~Roy Peter Clark, Poynter Institute

Here’s an attempt of mine at “literary journalism,” borne out of another assignment to rewrite a news item as a fictionalized feature.

* * *

An aborted defense of a home 

Ilang-Ilang D. Quijano 

For a moment, Melissa Reyes thought that it was just the usual roar of the train thundering on ancient tracks that awoke her slumber at 6 a.m. Having lived “along da riles” for 10 years, it was an all-consuming sound that represented a mostly harmless interregnum in the shantytown’s daily preoccupations. What troubled her was the commotion she heard long after the train’s whistle was carried away by the wind and the screech of wheels died in the distance.

There was arguing and shouting, punctuated by the thud of a heavy object smashed into concrete and the metallic rip of scrap galvanized iron sheets.

The forty-year old mother dressed hurriedly and went outside to face her worst nightmare.

A demolition team of the Manila Police District, carrying huge hammers, axes, and pincers, was starting to work on the house of one of her neighbours. The roof and a part of the wall has been torn down, exposing a television set and abandoned mattresses.

Standing beside a small tractor mounted with a wrecking ball was Superintendent Teodorico Perez, the team’s ground commander. He was being confronted by very angry residents, among them her husband Noel.

“Nasaan ang mga dokumentong nag-uutos ng demolisyong ito?” Barangay Captain Gary Medina demanded. (Where are the documents that authorize you to demolish our homes?)

“Matagal na kayong binalaan ng NHA (National Housing Authority) na umalis. Mga iskuwater kayo dito. Alam ninyong tinatapos ng gobyernong Arroyo ang NorthRail Project,” Supt. Perez replied. (The NHA has long been warning you to leave. You are only informal settlers. You know that the Arroyo government is finishing the NorthRail Project.)

The NorthRail Project is the rehabilitation of the 80-kilometer railway that runs from Metro Manila to the province of Pampanga in Northern Luzon. Funded by a multi-million dollar foreign loan still hounded by anomaly, it is estimated to displace 40,000 urban poor families living along the tracks.

The demolition of 1,000 shanties in Manila’s Sta. Mesa district last June 20 was the latest in a series that started two years ago. Many past attempts had failed in the face of fierce resistance from highly organized residents. This one, however, was successful.

The altercation ended with a compromise: Supt. Perez ordered a halt in operations while the residents waited for the NHA representative. Melissa pleaded with Noel not to let the police tear down their house. Firmly but gently, she was told to be patient.

The women began talking amongst themselves, railing at the demolition they called “sudden,” “cruel,” and even “illegal.” One of them vented her frustration at the police and shouted: “Wala kayong awa! Gusto lang naming mabuhay gaya ninyo!” (You have no mercy! Like you, we only want to live!) Some tried to explain that they were just doing their jobs. Most ignored her.

Melissa said that they have heard of this demolition for weeks. “Dahilan kung bakit hindi ako makatulog,” she added, wringing her hands. (The reason why I have been losing sleep)

The Reyeses have three children—all are still in elementary school. Noel drives a tricycle for a living while Melissa sews and sells rags. Together, they barely make Php 250 ($5) a day. Like countless others, Noel and Melissa were farmers who fled their impoverished hometowns in the countryside, only to find themselves in the same cesspool of want in the city.

A while later, NHA Undersecretary Manuel Padilla came, dressed in a barong. For the next three hours, he showed the residents demolition orders straight from Malacañang. He explained how NHA had prepared a relocation site for them in Trece Martires town in Cavite province, spreading out before them a blueprint of the neat rows that were to become their new and much safer homes.

One resident asked if they were supposed to pay rent for these houses.

“Oo, pero sa napakamurang halaga na P1,000 kada buwan,” Usec. Padilla replied, grinning despite the groans that went up all around him. (Yes, of course, but only for the very small amount of Php 1,000 [$20] a month.)

By 10 a.m., he had dispelled as “myths” the persistent news that relocation sites lacked basic utilities such as water and electricity and were too remote to be near feasible livelihood opportunities.

Normally, the shantytown was as its’ busiest this time: mothers hang laundry, naked children run around, teenagers play billiards, trolleys shuttle passengers back and forth the tracks, vendors hawk their wares. But these were suspended today. All adults were involved in heated discussions, while the children, bewildered, kept to quiet huddles.

Usec. Padilla revealed his last ace: a P30,000 ($600) relocation package. “Wala na kayong mapagpipilian. Tanggapin ninyo para walang masaktan,” he finally said. (You have no choice. Take it and no one will get hurt.)

The demolition team was growing impatient and the sun was getting high. Brgy. Captain Medina asked everyone to tender a decision.

Noel pulled Melissa aside and said, “Wala tayong magagawa. Gusto talaga tayong palayasin. Mabuting tanggapin na natin ang alok.” (We can’t do anything. They really want us out. It would be better for us to accept the offer.)

She burst into tears and ranted. In other communities, the residents would defend their homes with their lives. They would throw rocks at the demolition team. They would chase away the NHA officer who is obviously lying. “Bakit tayo susuko nang ganoon na lang?” she asked. (Why would we give up that easily?)

Around them, similar exchanges took place. But in the end, the Reyeses, along with most of the residents, agreed to be relocated. Usec. Padilla gave 24 hours for them to collect their belongings and board a bus that would take them to the site. Supt. Perez, meanwhile, ordered his team to first tear down the houses of families who had refused to budge. The pounding and the ripping started once again. There were still some shouting and arguing, but now isolated and feeble.

Noel collected the children and went inside their decade-old shanty. Melissa remained outside, glaring at the team that worked like ants spiriting away leftovers. She picked up a rock and closed her fist over it. Then finally she let go. The rock dropped near her feet.

(Based on the news item: 

1,000 shanties demolished in Manila for NorthRail project

06/20/2007 | 10:36 AM

Email this | Email the Editor | Print | Digg this | Add to del.icio.us

After a brief commotion, authorities demolished some 1,000 shanties in Manila’s Sta. Mesa district Wednesday to make way for the NorthRail project.

Radio dzBB reported that a brief commotion occurred when the demolition team failed to present to residents the documents authorizing the demolition.

However, the tension did not escalate and the residents eventually agreed to be moved to Cavite, after a representative from the National Housing Authority arrived.

Manila Police District (MPD) Station 8 commander Superintendent Teodorico Perez said the NHA representatives “ironed out” the situation and convinced the residents to agree to be moved.

The residents were to be brought to a resettlement site in Trece Martires town in Cavite province. - GMANews.TV)