There is a small city in Southern Luzon partly celebrating, partly in deep anxiety, as the counting of the votes for the vice president comes to a close. The night of the elections, one candidate, Bongbong Marcos, surged past the one coming close to him. Leni Robredo was the rival to the throne, to this man’s return to high position.
Having become senator already, the name Bongbong Marcos has, it seems, lost the burden of history until this time. The vice president marks a symbolic trip to the Palace and, thus, recalls the long years of the Marcos regime.
The city from where Robredo bore the burden and violence of martial law and the rule of the Marcoses.
In the 1970s Naga was already considered the cultural, economic and education capital of the Bikol region, a backwater economy of this nation. From the 1960s, however, until martial-law years, the city was the bastion of the Liberal Party. When Manila bowed before the strongman rule of Marcos, Naga City was posting “No” to all those ridiculous plebiscite. The city voted for Ninoy Aquino and made him No. 1, when it was almost a crime to vote for the opposition.
By the mid-1970s, when the Bagong Lipunan had already made inroads into the Philippine societies, the regional offices that were set up in Naga were all moved to Legaspi, in Albay. The rumor—and the perception of the people in the region—was that Marcos did not like the opposition stance of the Nagueños, in particular, and the Bikolanos, in general.
Roads were not built and the South Road access, now called Quirino Highway, remained unfinished, the clearings eaten up by the forest.
Marcos rarely visited the city. The one time Marcos and his retinue descended upon the city, a convent had to prepare his food, Imelda made forays into the city and the other places.
Every visit of Imelda was a nightmare. My first job was in the PR section of a government corporation. My job was to go around at dawn in the barangays near the airport, calling for people to serve as welcoming party for Imelda. They were paid.
I was a freshman when martial law was declared. We were instructed to go home. We did not know when we would see each other again.
Months after, some of our classmates disappeared into the mountains. Some were picked up, and were never seen. That avenue where we parted and said good-bye became the loneliest stretch of road in the memories of our young world.
Robredo was a young girl of 7 or 8 when martial law was declared. She did not understand then yet what was our rage against the dictator.
Leni Robredo is beating Bongbong Marcos, the son of the dictator. That is good. When the results are final, I will go back to that avenue, and pray for the soul of our generation.
E-mail: titovaliente@yahoo.com.
Image credits: Jimbo Albano