Toy was in the public eye when he led the team of private prosecutors in the Estrada impeachment trial. He continued his work as prosecutor in the plunder cases filed against the former president at the Sandiganbayan.
A close friend of former vice-president and senator Teofisto Guingona, Toy served as his deputy in several posts after the Edsa Revolution. He served at the Commission on Audit, at the Department of Justice and at the Office of the Executive Secretary. In all those posts, he served with integrity and competence.
For five years, I had the great privilege of working with Toy Nepomuceno at the Board of Directors of the Development Bank of the Philippines. We relied heavily on his legal insight and enjoyed the pleasure of his sharp wit.
Before serving the Republic, Toy Nepomuceno worked for several banks and private corporations. He also had his own private practice as a lawyer.
A highly respected legal mind, Toy was offered several times a seat at the Supreme Court. At every instance, he rejected the offers. He could not bear the thought of being cloistered from the rest of humanity.
That is so much like Toy.
He epitomizes what Jean-Paul Sartre called l’homme egagee – a man constantly engaged with his time and place. By no means a demagogue nor a doctrinaire, he was nevertheless a man of causes.
When martial law was imposed, Toy found himself a fugitive for some time. He was closely associated with the anti-Marcos opposition and, in the depths of dictatorship, offered his legal advice to the persecuted. He helped found the moderate group Bandila which kept probing the ground for legal relief from the harshness of a tyranny.
A native of Marinduque, Toy worked his way to a legal education at the Ateneo and topped the bar examinations when he took it. It was always a pleasure for him to take colleagues to his home province to enjoy the delicacies of the place.
At the mature age of 74, Toy never stopped working. He never stopped being fascinated by new things and new knowledge. He had most of his legal files on CDs and combed the internet for information to beef up the briefs he prepared.
Toy had an affliction we all envied. He was constantly low on sugar and, on doctor’s orders, was constantly munching chocolate bars. During meals we shared, Toy referred to the dessert as his "main course" and expropriated those of his sugar-shy friends.
At the DBP, part of the minor perks for the great task of protecting the funds of the Republic was a small ration of chocolate bars on days when the Board of Directors met. That was Toy’s field of battle. He regularly raided the chocolate rations of his colleagues.
Jerry Barican once mocked a fit of rage when his share of the chocolate bars disappeared. The past few months, his favorite victim was Joseph Pangilinan. A distant nephew of Toy, the young Pangilinan could not object to his uncle’s raids.
Before leaving last week for a financial roadshow, I put aside a few chocolate bars in my desk for Toy. I felt I owed him an apology.
Two weeks before, I had mistakenly included Toy in the list of people I wanted seated for a meeting of the risk management committee where a discussion of alternative methodologies for calculating the risk threshold was to be discussed. He materialized, as is his usual habit, 15 minutes before the meeting.
That day, he walked up to my desk and asked why I asked for him to be present. Realizing my lapse, I muttered something about all of us being more comfortable with him around to offer his advice.
He replied that the matter to be discussed involved so much mathematical formulas he did not, as a lawyer, comprehend. He always read the materials way before every meeting.
I told him that, being more inclined to poetry, the calculus was about as pleasurable to me as having a root canal. It will help if he endures the meeting along with the rest of us. To assuage him for the disturbance, I promised him my ration of chocolate bars the next time.
Those bars are still there.
I remembered that small hoard instantly when I received word of Toy’s passing last Tuesday. I was in the South Kensington area of London, recovering from a hectic but highly successful investment mission, when the terse message of Toy’s death came through my phone. It was a bright and sunny day, unusual for that city’s well-deserved reputation for foul weather. But suddenly the day lost its luster.
In my computer, I have a folder where I archive things that Toy sends out. One of those things I archived was a large file of libel rulings Toy sent me years ago when one humorless politician filed charges against me for commenting on his wig. Most of the other things I saved in that folder, I realized on reviewing the contents, were unremittingly funny and unspeakably dirty images that Toy retrieves from who knows where in cyberspace.
Sublime and at the same time banal. High-minded and always down-to-earth. Penetrating in his analysis and light-hearted in his disposition. Politically committed and at the same time politically incorrect by choice.
That sums up Toy Nepomuceno. That says all about why this man is so comfortable to work with, so reassuring to be with and so redeeming to be associated with.
Here lies a good man. A man who loved his country dearly as a true patriot should. A man who loved life well as every man should.
I take great pride in having known Toy, great honor in having worked as his peer. On his birthday, I must remember to bring a truly sinful chocolate cake to the table where he gifted us all with his immense wisdom.