By fate or by coincidence another broadcaster was shot in the neck on the eve of celebrating the assassination of Benigno “Ninoy” Aquino Jr. Is it a reminder that Ninoy Aquino was a veteran journalist before becoming the ultimate sacrifice against Martial law?
His statement “the Filipino is worth dying for” once again finds space in media because of his death anniversary. We have all been asked if the Filipino is worth dying for and of course everybody says yes only because we are not asked to actually do so.
In the last three years, journalists, broadcasters and political idealists have borne the brunt and paid the high price for standing up for Filipinos. The bolder of us take the bullet and die. The idealists live a life half empty and in need. The more cautious deal with reprimands and harassment. The enemy stalks us, confronts us or twists the truth and peddles their lies.
But when will YOU be willing to die to yourself? When will YOU be worth dying for yourself? There is no better time to ask than now.
After years of Martial law we found courage in the sacrifice of Ninoy Aquino to face our fears and throw away our selfish priorities. Ironically, in almost the same number of years that Martial law was in effect, Filipinos have slipped back to the same mindset, selfish priorities and dependence on others to fight their battles.
We have become a nation of backsliders content with our comfort zones. As long as we have jobs or business turns a profit, all is well. As long as they don’t tax our text messages or put a curfew on our gimmick nights, chill! Or maybe as long as you text your opinion to a talk show, you’ve done your duty. Or have you?
If charity begins at home so should the very things we demand from others. Ask yourself: what have you done about the very things you complain of? You want equality and fairness in the workplace and society, but are you fair and equal at home to your family and your helpers?
If you’re ever going to be worth dying for, make time for your family and others. Make them your priority instead of your business or your career. Have you made efforts to boost the career of others or are you just a user?
You demand courtesy and attention from government employees but do you give courtesy to your family and employees? Do you REALLY greet or grudgingly greet guards and janitors? When was the last time you said thank you to the people who help you and your kids in and out of the car?
You curse legislators and generals for having convoys and sirens, but how many of you use your hazard lights and double-park because you don’t want to park far from the school or the sari sari store?
You ridicule and criticize the President for her “half-a-sorry” but what about your “sorry’s” to your spouse, your kids and especially to your maid or driver?
You call the President “The Taray Queen” but what would people call your behavior? “A legend in your own mind”? A good reason for solitary confinement? An imported arse that gives comfort to a useless presence?
You talk about what politicians should do but what have you done about your garbage? Have you segregated and recycled or you just can’t be bothered? Do you close the faucet while brushing your teeth? How much use do you get out of your power washer? Or is it “Why bother?”
Do you confess and beg forgiveness from the traffic enforcer or do you use it as an opportunity to deliver souls to hell by tempting them with your prize money? Do you condemn rapists and murderers demanding no less than the death penalty while you ask your daughter to buy you the latest issue of FHM?
You join the holy chorus that condemns the DPWH and the Bureau of Customs along with Congress as the “Den of thieves” But what are the chances that you took the first cut among the thieves by not declaring your income or other profits you made from the unregistered investment groups that now ran away with your inheritance?
You complain about how corrupt BIR employees are shaking you down but you refuse to file an anonymous complaint with the Ombudsman. You agree how customs people are taking away money from government but you let your broker “facilitate” because you don’t like delays. You wail how appointed officials have lost their integrity by feasting on funds and flesh, yet you fall in line to ask favors from the very same crooks.
On Sunday you listen to the sermon on “Grace”, the empowering presence of God to be all that he made you to be and to do all that he wants you to do. But come Monday and for the rest of the week all you do is live out the example set down by the Pharisees and Sadducees.
It’s not fun being threatened, stalked, or shot at. We simply say its part of the job. But it makes a whole lot of difference when the beneficiaries from our sacrifice take some time to also make a difference.
While studying in UP, a schoolmate asked why was I not in the rally? (One of a hundred that went on each year). I said I had no interest in such things. My friend shot back by loading a political pile of crap about involvement and how I would not amount to anything.
I replied by asking her where they were when I had to move my brothers and sister under cover of darkness armed with a shot gun at 16 years old on the night that Martial Law was unofficially declared?
Where were they when we had to take refuge in the residence of Doc and Nene Vera Perez and given comfort by Senator Ernie Maceda and the rest of the Vera Perez clan for several months?
Where were they when my Dad Louie Beltran was hauled off to Crame while my grandmother had a heart attack and I ended up at ABM Sison which is now Medical City for a spinal surgery?
I remember my Dad at a loss on how we would pay the astronomical fee involved for the complex surgery. When it came to pay the bill, the surgeon Dr. Ramon Selo told my dad: “Louie you have done your duty to your country, let me do mine”.
I may not remember his face but I will never forget his deed.
Have YOU done your duty to God and country? . . . the one that asks you to die to yourself so you may serve others?