Finding FrancisM

MANILA, Philippines - More than a decade ago, I chanced upon Francis Magalona in an Internet chat room.

I didn’t know it was him, of course, but we struck up numerous conversations owing to two things that we knew about each other: we both loved music, and we had both studied at the Don Bosco Technical College in Mandaluyong. I found a kindred spirit of sorts – he was, as I am, very opinionated about music, and we frequently exchanged tales and war stories about anything that came to mind.

Eventually, we confessed our identities to each other. I was surprised, yes, but not incredulous. It escapes me now but I didn’t doubt it was him and not just someone pretending to be Kiko. Anyway, I think it was through that connection that I managed to have him accede to be cover of the magazine I was working for that time.

A sackful of kamotes were strewn on the Makati studio floor of the late great lensman Zek Barrozo. On the heels of Francis M’s monster hit Mahiwagang Kamote, the editorial team had conceptualized him laying on a bed of the rootcrop. Francis arrived at the venue, eyes wide at the kamote field in front of him, yet gamely posed. Formal nterview chores were done by Juaniyo Arcellana (now STAR desk editor), but Francis chatted up everyone. I don’t remember much else from that shoot so long ago except that we were simply overcome by the sight of so many kamotes. It was hilarious, and Francis also seemed to think so.

When I heard that Francis had leukemia, I didn’t think much about it. Nah, he was too strong, too young, too alive for that disease. He was too strong and healthy to be hobbled by sickness. Like we are wont to do to celebrities, I subconsciously attributed superhuman powers to Kiko. I mean, to this day I still imagine him in his many music videos – he has been captured for eternity in our minds in moments he was most alive – singing, dancing, hosting, cracking jokes. That’s why he was a great fit for Eat Bulaga. He was gregarious, energetic, and funny.

Musically, Francis was THE voice of rap in the Philippines. It ranged from the banal to romantic, political, to the cathartic. It was a distinct brand of rap without the tomfoolery and crass of, say, Andrew E. It was also the accessible rap that stayed in your head and left you humming. Francis had a good enough voice for melodies to boot, and it was because of this that he stayed in the radar via songs like Kaleidoscope World.

He’d get a lot of grief for it, but Francis continuously evolved himself – allowing influences of his contemporaries to filter into his music. He was commercial, but had an indie streak as well. I think he was fascinated by the alternative music scene and he subconsciously wanted to be part of it, too.

That was easier said than done – for he was Francis. He was good looking, talented, and extremely popular. He was too mainstream to go underground. And the public was made better for it.

As for us, I don’t know now how we fell out of contact. We just did, I guess. I would see him occasionally at our yearly homecoming at Don Bosco, but that was it. Alumni would crowd around him as they rightly should have, for he was one of our school’s brightest stars.

Francis died yesterday. He went home at noon after a gallant fight. His final line on his final Multiply entry last Jan. 14 goes: Your prayers, as always, have sustained me. And am sure the Lord will listen to all our prayers. To His will I submit myself.

One can only imagine how wife Pia and their eight kids feel right now – even as a nation condoles with them. For the rest of us, we are left much poorer without our King of Pinoy Rap, actor, comedian, entrepreneur, Bosconian.

See you around, Kiko.