He lost the election. "He" refers to my father who tried to venture out into the treacherous and muddy waters of politics thinking that his untarnished record as a public servant for almost 30 years, his desire to serve his hometown, his determination to do his best, and his I'll-play-fair and I'll-try-to-do-everything-right attitude were enough for him to get elected.
Late last year when my father told the family that he had decided to run for a public post in the May 2007 elections, I made it clear to him that I was not in favor of his decision. I knew that running for a public post would entail funding and machinery. Sure his party had funds, but as a candidate he needed to have his own. And it was something he didn't have. Based on the past elections, I had attempted to predict the likely election outcome in his hometown: whoever has money will win. It was clear to me that my father's decision was a suicide.
I was not able to dissuade my father from running. Well, I knew from the very beginning that I wouldn't be able to. I could tell how much he wanted to run and somehow be able to do something for his small, sleepy hometown populated by fisherfolk and farmers. His was a burning ambition to accomplish projects for their welfare. And he believed that his kababayans, have now turned out to be intelligent voters. "Hindi na sila tulad dati na madadaan sa pera. Matatalino na ang mga iyan, mulat na sa kung ano ang tama at mali. Kaya lumalagay ako sa tama," he would just tell me. It wasn't enough to convince me, though in my heart I wanted to believe that he was right.
I kept myself updated about the election events in his hometown through a cousin who served as my father's aid during campaigns. We exchanged text messages from time to time. After lunch, on election day, my heart sank with some text messages he had sent me:
Ate, kanina may lalaking nagpunta sa bahay. Humihingi ng PhP1,000. Ang bigayan nga raw sa kabila (other party) ay PhP1,500 pero dahil daw si Uncle talaga ang gusto niyang kandidato, pwede na raw sa kanya ang PhP1,000. Sabi ko pasensya na.
Ate, habang patapos ang election, palaki naman nang palaki ang bigay ng kabila. Balita namin PhP2,000 na raw para sa buong linya nila.
I was right.
The result of the election hurt me. No, not because my father lost, I have long accepted that possibility. I was hurt because of the voters' attitude, because of voters like the man my cousin referred to in his text message. I was hurt because I was right as to my perception of my own kababayans. I was hoping they would prove me wrong in this election. But they didn't.
It is sad to note that the issues and concerns of their plight have become not relevant to them any more. Never mind if the roads in their town are still bad. Never mind if there are no alternative livelihood programs for them. Never mind if after the election they will become invisible again to the eyes of some elected town officials who used money as bait to fish out more votes, taking advantage of their plight knowing that they badly need money. What mattered to them, that election day, was that they could bring home an extra PhP1,500 or PhP2,000 for extra food on their table. Never mind what the future holds in the hands of sly politicians.
Quo vadis mga kabugtu-an ko? Tikain na an aton iroy nga tuna nga matam-is pagpuy-an?