I was at city hall last spring. I was kind of rubbing shoulders with political
movers and shakers. Civic election was yet two years away and they seemed to be
up on their heels already. This was evidently expected as Butuan politics, as
we know of, is a year-round favorite and addictive pastime.
I was not concerned about the prospective combination of aspirants to form a
strong line-up. I knew that high bracket affordability was a requirement.
Neither was I interested about the possible outcome of the next one. This was
somewhat obvious already.
My main focus however were on tactics politicians would use in the next
election. I sensed the good side of the mayor lately and maybe this also would
translate into fair and honest election. I was really going counter common
belief this time. I was naively hoping that appropriate electoral process was
forthcoming. This was apparently a big maybe, but who knows? Sometimes, miracle
happens.
My optimism was dashed out quickly when conversation was dragged into the
premise that vote buying was not their invention. They inherited it. They
should therefore be absolved from blame, as they were just hostages to the
system like any others. I walked away with a morbid feeling that the next
election would be just the same.
This reminded me of what I wrote just after election day sometime ago. I am
putting it here to ponder upon.
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"THE KINGDOM BY THE RIVER"
Seldom do we hear of good things about Butuan politics. We often read of
vicious and even obscene commentaries about it. Expressions of despair and
hopelessness fill the air. Public anger sweeps over the land. Yes, after all
these years Butuan still haven't learnt. There is no light at the end of the
tunnel. It's a place of the damned where irk and ire perpetually wraps our
city of affection.
But all these are just passing fancy. It's only a game. When the smoke of
discontent over election fades away, there always is Butuan. The Butuan we
care. The Butuan we love. We can't deny her our devotion because it is our
home. It may not be the shining city of our dreams, but it's the only one we
have.
There are times when they joke and laugh about it. They even brag about
election deceitfulness and stand proud to have outsmarted others. Victory
becomes a grandiose trophy rather than commitment for public good. It has
already become an acceptable exercise thereby friends and foes alike freely
wallow in the same murky waters of cheat and tricks.
After all are said and done, we still can't harbor abomination towards our own
heritage. We maybe are disappointed and talk wicked about our city for being
neglectful, but down deep we still love this dirty rotten town we called home
and won't ever trade her off with other places.
The ranting and despair are mostly found in the hearts of those that fails. We
want to father our ways, but it always turn out not to be so. We desire to
topple a dynasty and find out that it isn't that easy. The castle wall is high
and our ladder is short. We vent our disgust on the bribable poor and they
won't even care. We air our contempt on insidious politicians and they just
chuckle at us. We are the good guys, but our resolve is fruitless. What else
can we do?
Someone opened the Pandora's Box from way back then and since the honest and
the enlightened struggles in futility to put the monster back in. The practice
is systemic. It's already a malady. Some tried to fix it then, but failed to
make things right. But regardless of previous outcomes, the battle is still on.
We are not the first and neither be the last to fail. We did not lose the
fight. We just didn't win. We have to get up each time we fall and like others
before, pick up the stride and on again and again.
We can't afford to just curl in the corner and lick our wound. The affliction
we want healed continuos to claim victims. Rather than blame ourselves and sulk
on frustration, we shall go on with our quest until we find it. We shall be
determined to champion the cause. With unshakable faith, we must persevere
until fairness emerges. We shall never ever yield to this dreadful foe.
Somehow, we'll see the light of triumph because the good ultimately wins and
righteousness is undoubtedly on our side.
This dream however is with a price. Be mindful that there are powerful segments
in society that will malign us. They'll ostracize us from social and gainful
chances. They'll denounce and castigate our pursuit for piety and nobility. We
shall be accused as renegades and even be disowned by friends and kinship. We
will be branded as ungrateful prodigals. There always is a price tag on honesty
and tariff on uprightness.
But we shall hold on and keep the spirit alive. The road to success is always
with painful sacrifices. We have the goodness of intention and morality of
purpose. With unfaltering tenacity, we may see someday the change from this
vulgar and repulsive conduct to a fairly mode of behavior where right of choice
isn't corrupted and people's mandate is fervently abided all over he kingdom by
the river.
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And then, I was in the park. I stared upon the face of the statue of the
national hero. My imagination went wild. I wondered what he would have done
about suffrage's freedom in Butuan today. I assumed that he was disappointed.
He would have questioned the morality of people he loved and died for. Given a
chance to move, I reckoned that he would jump off the pedestal, grab a placard
and march to city hall.
We were too young to know which end of the gun to shoot during the last big
war. But we heard of stories. We knew what our fathers did. It was not their
war and neither they invented it. They just got tangled with the quarrels of
the time. They inherited it too. Yet, they fought against tyranny and despotism
and so many did pay the price. It's sad to realize that the now generation are
selling cheaply what our fathers stood for to the highest bidder during
Election Day.
It's a travesty and culprits deserve no leniency. They ought to be chastised as
parasites in the neighborhood. But this is not what happens. It's rather the
opposite. Butuan has unusual perception when it comes to political perversion.
Rather than subject offenders to reproach, crown them instead with admiration
as triumphant heroes. Butuan politics is indeed peculiar and unique. It's a
complex syndrome of contradiction by seemingly pious people where even church
pulpit calling hardly finds an ear.
From where we stand, we see no end yet to this indignity. Many a brave will
lock horns with the beast. Some may gain a little distance but way far short to
fulfillment. Most simply fizzle down to humiliation in failure. It's an elusive
dream. Our fate really hurts for as long as electoral wrong continuos to
dominate.
