A different Christmas story
I reserved this Monday column for my Christmas message — my yearend reflections on what the season’s message ought to evoke in our hearts. But last Saturday, Dec. 13, at 3:50 p.m., Afif Khodr, one of advertising’s best-loved personalities, finally succumbed to a fatal stroke, the third attack in less than one year. He had been on borrowed time for more than 10 years. Thrice-a-week dialysis, complicated by diabetes and hypertension, made every single day he lived as precious as ... well, Christmas. And I realized that Afif might as well have been Father Christmas. Aside from the obvious physical similarities of girth and that twinkle in the eye, Afif had most of the qualities of the beloved St. Nicholas. They were both jovial, kind and gentle, with a joie de vivre that even sickness and personal setbacks could not extinguish. But unlike Santa Claus, Afif was generous with everyone, naughty or nice.
You can tell a good man from what people said about him while he was alive. Those who knew him well had only words of praise and admiration, recounting each Afif experience with fondness. In a cutthroat industry, that’s an achievement. Often, the kind words and stories told post mortem in eulogies are polite concessions to a fallen comrade. After all, it’s easier to be sympathetic to former fierce competitors.
Lebanese in origin, Afif chose to live in a country he loved as his own. But he kept close ties with the Filipino Lebanese-Syrian community and was well known as the go-to man. Any problem was Afif’s own. Helen Massab recalls how Afif would personally supervise every sales conference, big or small, that her company, Laurenti, would mount. He was tireless in his profession, generous with his time and talent, and even his rental fees.
Allen Velez echoes the same sentiment. He remembers that even as a junior events producer in an ad agency, Afif would appear personally every time he called. Sometimes there was no business for him, but he’d come anyway to give free advice and make chika. When Allen finally decided to set up his own outfit, Afif was there to guide and advise him every step of the way.
Andre Kahn remembers that in his younger days, he’d park his car at the gates of Assumption College and watch the girls pass by. One day, he saw a stunningly beautiful colegiala who made a beeline for him. He thought this must be his lucky day. But when she was within earshot, she called out, “Hi, Afif!” Andre was nonplussed. Who the (bleep!) was Afif? And that was how he met his look-alike. That case of mistaken identity was the start of an easy friendship that lasted for many, many years.
Dyords Javier was one of Afif’s closest friends. So close that he swears no one can beat Afif in three areas: 1) snoring; 2) ingenuity and 3) stubbornness. He once recorded Afif’s snoring for 30 minutes. He chuckled, “He sounded exactly like a tractor.” Dyords was awed by Afif‘s electronic genius. If there was a problem with any equipment, he wouldn’t stop until he’d fixed it. In all the years Dyords knew him, he never heard one bad word uttered by Afif against anyone. Not even to those who deserved it because they took advantage of his innate generosity and kindness. He had his fair share of leeches.
At the recent 20th Advertising Congress held at Subic on Nov. 7, Cherry Salazar was worried that her expensive equipment would malfunction with the heat in the trade exhibit area. The air conditioning wasn’t on 24 hours as the machines required. By 11 p.m., Cherry was frantically looking for a solution to what could be potential multi-million-peso damages. There was Afif to the rescue. He was so sick and in pain by then. But, wobbly as he was, he found a huge industrial fan to keep Cherry’s delicate machines going without glitches. Cherry said she could turn to Afif for assistance anytime, whether she needed help for her kid, her dog or her car.
I really only got to know Afif well this year, his last year on earth. So I’m not the best person to extol him. Before that, I only knew him superficially as the smiling Big Man of ASAP (Advertising Suppliers Association of the Philippines), an inveterate board director who always volunteered his free services to the Ad Congress. He had a thriving business in state-of-the-art equipment rentals for conferences and events. He had the market easily cornered because asking for discounts from him was painless and he was completely reliable and hands-on.
By some twist of fate that can only be ascribed to serendipity, I ended up chairing the industry fundraiser playfully called “Afif Dimension” to generate money for his kidney transplant. The dialysis not only slowly ate up his personal fortune but had also become increasingly ineffective after years of the same treatment. He needed a new kidney as soon as possible. At first I was hesitant and apprehensive. How could we raise millions without any seed money for the event? But my anxieties vanished as one by one, all the people Afif had helped in the past began calling and asking what they could do for him. They wanted to give back to the man who had given them so much.
That was when I appreciated how much this person had done for others. Together with his long list of friends — Helen Massab, Andre Kahn, Linda Gamboa, Marilyn Villapando, Allen Velez, Rosemary Ysmael, and Roxanne Lapus — we organized the show. No less than Billy King prepared the sumptuous dinner befitting Afif’s gourmand taste. Tong Padilla, CEO of Rockwell, gave the use of the Rockwell Tent for free. Gary Valenciano and son Gabs, Dyords Javier, Richard Merk, John Lesaca, Ang 4gettables, Isay Alvarez, Pinky Marquez, Bimbo Cerrudo and the Ms. Saigons, Jamie Rivera and Janine Desiderio, all gave their time and talent for free. They were returning the many favors Afif had lavished on them in better times.
The show was a rousing success! We raised the funds he needed. But by then, his diabetic condition rendered him ineligible for major surgery. We consoled ourselves with the thought that at least, it gave him more time to fix his affairs. He was also transferred from the charity ward of PGH to a private room. But in the weeks prior when he was in the public ward, he saw how the poor patients simply died from their inability to purchase the medicines they needed. He resolved to help PGH when he got better.
Somehow, even with his constant agony, the optimism and hopefulness lived on. Afif celebrated his 58th birthday last Oct. 4 in his bedroom with a handful of friends. He called and texted so many times that day. So despite the many appointments that Saturday, I went to his party. There he told me that the doctors had ruled out a kidney transplant as it could be fatal. But he smiled and said, “I could live for another 10 years if I just follow the doctors’ orders.” He lived another 69 days from his last birthday.
So he was blessed with the good life until his illness literally consumed his wealth. It was the classic reversal of fortune that would ordinarily be too tragic and sad for a Christmas tale. But it is also a story of courage, resilience and fortitude that we can all learn from. In a season drowning in commercialism and retail frenzy, many lament the loss of Christ in Christmas. As we face the specter of recession instead of prosperity for the coming new year, Afif’s story could be just the inspiration we need.
What Afif lost in material wealth he possessed in the abundance of friends. When he thought he had little to give, most of those who received his generosity in the past came in droves to give him back their love and support. Somewhere in this story is the real essence of Christmas.
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