Practised salespersons, two young ones rushed to us selling their leis of ilang-ilang. We were smoking off my brother’s birthday bounty outside a restaurant in Quezon City. And there they were eagerly shoving their wares to our newly-stuffed faces.
As I have been wont to do lately, I conducted a mini-interrogation of these child labourers. One is in the fifth grade and the other in third. They looked small for their ages – purportedly 9 and 11. They were residents of NIA road – that slum area near the QC central post office. Like all sob stories, their parents were mostly unemployed. I asked them why they were working when their parents weren’t. The practised answer was – of course they wanted to help their families. Their classes are from 12 to 6, after which they hit the hard streets selling their little bit of fragrant heaven.
How long do you stay out here? Until we sell everything off. Do you have time to play or do homework? The fifth grader eagerly pointed to the little satchel at the foot of a tree. Home work on top of work work.
Bright kids, I thought. It didn’t matter whether I was fed lies. I suspected as much given how fast the answers flew out of their little mouths. Maybe liars – but quick-witted ones. I was impressed and so I bought a couple of strings of ilang-ilang.
Tomorrow these little girls’ evening will be exactly the same as this one. After school they will doff their uniforms and hie off to places of conspicuous consumption to earn their keep.
Tomorrow I will go to Makati, one among the multitude. Amorphous, symbolic, the many voices of those who say no to changing the highest law of the land to suit the interests of the lawless.
I will go because those little girls cannot.
Popularity: 1% [?]
Keep the fire burning! Hold that ramparts, confound their politics, Frustrate their knavish tricks. (Henry Carry).
But at the end of the day you will not be able to take care of those little girls even if the constitution remains intact.
Our redemption, spiritually and economically, does not lie in that piece of document you call the constitution, but in our ability to morally recover from the bottomless pit of our moral depravity.
But let me regale your spirit with this lyrics:
“Climb ev’ry mountain, ford ev’ry stream,
Follow ev’ry rainbow, till you find your dream.”
Oscar Hammerstein II (1895 – 1960)
U.S. lyricist and librettist.
Unfortunately noble causes like yours are undermined by the presence of opportunists, like Erap. The irony, the horror!
I’ll go.
Nice poetic way that you seque from a story about ilang-ilang vendors into a proclamation of your intention to attend the latest ocho-ocho “rally”.
Narrative is a great tool for implanting dubious ideas in impressionable minds. A well-spun narrative has the same effect that a swaying snake-charmers’s flute has on a cobra — it dulls the sharper faculties allowing the more flacid functions of the brain to take over. :D
you should go to the rally, too, benign0, observe, then crow some more that what you saw supported your thesis about ocho-ocho. You may even meet one or two people there who enjoy your company.
Trust me, I would if I could — armed with video and still cameras to elevate my craft. ;)
Tutulan ConAss!
Mabuhay ka caffeine_sparks!
Sumali na kayo!
my heart bleeds for the girls, therefore i shall attend the rally!
here, have some pesticide. salud!
Hello, caffeine_sparks! You wrote a very moving piece. If I could only, I’d get on a plane and join the rally! But I am there in spirit. Keep the flame alive!
wow, pesticide, is that the best you can throw at me? i’m not named peste for nothing.