Category: Nonfiction

Five Deadly Sins

Nonfiction by | April 29, 2013

The act of praying or the sambahayang is one of the famous rituals of Muslims. Muslims must perform the sambahayang at least five times a day. I perform the sambahayang, but not five times a day. I do it five times a month when I have the time, or at least once every three months. It’s not that I don’t like to do it. I just don’t have the time. At nineteen, I feel that I have too many things to attend to. I have schoolwork, friends, and boy problems to deal with. Everything can be overwhelming, and sadly, performing the sambahayang is one of the things that I readily sacrifice to attend to other things I consider more important.

Whenever people ask me why I do not practice sambahayang, I always tell them that I don’t have the time. It seems that when it is time to pray, all of a sudden I remember that I have other things to do. Sometimes, I tell myself that I have to go to school or I have assignments to do or I have somewhere else to go. I know that all of these are mere excuses but I don’t really care. They can get me out of the task of praying and that makes me happy. I don’t know if my parents could tell that I am just lying, but I am hoping that they would not ask further. My Mommy always told me that time should never get in the way of my practicing Muslim obligations. It is in performing prayers like the sambahayang that I should find myself with Allah. I could find time or make time for prayer if I wanted to. In fact, I can probably pray more than five times a day if I wanted to. I often wonder how my Mommy would react if she found out. I always wish that she wouldn’t because I know that if she did, she would be disappointed. I don’t want to disappoint my mother because I don’t want to feel guilty. I hate feeling guilty. It eats me up from the inside.

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Iboto si Trapo

Nonfiction by | April 7, 2013

Ako si Trapo Ko. Gwapito III.

Kumakanditado bilang gobernador ng Probinsya Gwapito del Sur, anak ng dating Congressman. Dating Mayor rin ng aming munisipyo, matapos mapalitan ng aking nakakatandang kapatid. Tumigil lang ako saglit sa politika dahil nagkastroke ako, pero sa awa ng Diyos pinagaling niya ako. Alam niyang kailangan ko pang maglingkod sa masa, at ngayon nagkalakas ng loob akong kumandidato dahil sa tiwala na binigay sa akin ng mga tao.

Noong nakaraang taon, nagpaparamdam na ako (wag kang maiingay ha?) sa gilid ng mga kalye. Naglalagay ng mga tarpaulin na bumabati ng “Happy Graduation” sa mga nagtatapos, “Maligayang Pasko” naman noong Disyembre. Katabi nga ng mga tarpaulin ko ang mukha din ng asawa ni Senador Villar. Napapakinggan din ako sa lahat ng estasyon ng radyo sa probinsya. Sabi nila premature campaign ang ginagawa ko pero wala namang masama sa bumabati at sa nagpaparamdam. Bakit, may nakakaalam ba? Wala naman akong nilalabag na batas ng COMELEC. Masaya na ako na kahit sa ganyang mga paraan lamang ay mapasaya ko ang mga tao sa pamamagitan ng pagbati sa kanila.

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My High School-College Friendship Frustration

Nonfiction by | March 31, 2013

It’s that time again: that time when I try my best to just close my eyes and drift off into the emptiness of oblivion. Somehow, I cannot manage it. The days now seem to pass by much quicker than I want them to. My time in high school is about to end and honestly, I don’t know what to feel anymore.

When I’m at school, I am overwhelmed by my emotions and I feel like screaming all the time. I’m like a volcano, brimming with molten lava, just waiting to explode.

I often get lonely in my confusion. I then try to think of college and the new life that awaits me there. I have built up this illusion that my life would be better once I get there. I’ll have freedom, independence, and girls. But I cannot escape the fact that my high school friends are not going to be there with me.

They keep on saying that they will visit me but I have my doubts. And I know it will not be the same as before.

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The Power of A Smile

Nonfiction by | March 24, 2013

I was going round and round Iligan City on endless errands and I was dead tired. I was already oblivious to my surroundings, and even to the repugnant smell of the market place I normally complained about. All I wanted at that time was to go home and rest. The jeepney I was riding in was caught in traffic when this beggar hopped on board. He wiped our shoes with a dirty piece of rag. Afterwards, he waited for someone to spare him some coins, or leftover food, or anything that would be freely given. Nobody moved. Nobody even looked at him directly. I only peered at him from the corner of my eyes. I have this self-imposed rule of never giving money to beggars. I gave them food if I had some, but I carried nothing that day. The beggar waited for a long while then went away disgruntled.

This scenario was not new to me. I had seen this repeated many times. When I lived in Metro Manila for almost six years, I experienced worse episodes than this. The beggars in the street of the metropolis made me feel either disillusioned with the rampant poverty in the country, or ashamed that I could not do more for those who needed help. In both cases though, I always felt thankful that I was not the one begging for alms on the streets.

However, this particular mendicant here in Iligan brought back memories of a chance encounter with an altogether different sort of street urchin.

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My Mami

Nonfiction by | March 17, 2013

Valentina Peña is my maternal grandmother, but within our family, we always call her Mami. In all the years I’ve known her, no one has satisfactorily explained to me the genesis of that appellation. It may be a reference to the delicious chicken noodle soup she makes, or more probably, it is an affectionate, but misspelled alternative to the word “Mommy.” No one really knows. No one really minds. Certainly, Mami doesn’t mind.

Like most grandmothers, Mami is kind and caring. She is a petite lady, standing just a little above 5 feet tall. She has that beautiful Filipina morena coloring with a head of lustrously dark, brown hair, and skin bronzed by the sun. Her almond shaped eyes give others the impression that she has Chinese blood. Her smile is often wide with her teeth slightly discolored. She loves to cook and is very good at it too.

My earliest memories of Mami was from the age of 4. I knew I spent a lot of time in her house watching television, or playing with clothespins on the living room carpet. Every 3 in the afternoon without fail, Mami always served me a small plate of warm cheese sandwich, sliced into triangles. After I ate that, I would ask for seconds… and thirds… and fourths and more. I had a voracious appetite even then but Mami did not mind one bit. She would whip up batches of sandwiches upon request until I was full — or until her supply of bread and cheese spread ran out, whichever came first. She always gave me her wide smile whenever she saw me stuffing myself with her cheese-filled snacks.

Upon reflection, I may also have kept asking for her sandwiches for the sake of seeing that smile.

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Ayoko ng Sabado

Nonfiction by | February 17, 2013

Ano bang dapat mong gawin kapag na-realize mong ayaw mo na sa galaw ng buhay mo?

‘Yung tipong wala ka nang pag-asang baguhin ang ni katiting sa buhay mo. Naipit ka na kasi sa pang habang-buhay na pagkakataon. Maiisip mo rin na wala ka namang lakas ng loob para gumawa ng kahit na anong bagay para isalba yung sarili mo. Kahit na ang mga pangarap mong binuo ng matagal ay nawalan na rin ng saysay upang ipagpatuloy. Ngayon, hahayaan mo na lang ba ang sarili mong malunod sa madilim na kawalan o pipiliin mo pa ring gumising?

“HOY, BABOY! GUMISING KA NA! ”

Ang ingay na naman! Sa totoo’y kanina pa ‘ko gising at kanina ko pa tinitiis na huwag pakinggan ang boses niya. Paano, eh ang lambot ng higaan at ang sarap yakapin ng unan. Gayunpaman, manaka-naka kong pinunasan ang bibig kong may bakas ng natuyong laway.

Teka, ang sakit ng ulo ko. Kung ‘di naman kasi nagyaya ng inuman yung mga pinsan ko kagabi, di sana sasakit tong ulo ko na para bang tinadyakan ng sampung kabayo. Nasusuka ako.

“DI KA BA TALAGA BABANGON?!”

Tantsa ko’y pang limang kurot na siguro ‘yun ni ate L. Pinilit ko nang bumangon para tumahimik na siya. Masisisi mo ba ako? ‘Eh Sabado kaya ngayon! Pero kelangan ko paring pilitin ang sarili ko na pumasok ng paaralan dahil sa isang subject.

“T_NG-INA! TINGNAN MO NGA YANG LINTIK NA ORASAN!

Naramdaman kong nanlamig ang buo kong katawan nang tingnan ko ang orasan: kinse minutos na lang bago mag 7:30. Kung mamalasin ako, pang pito ko na ‘tong absent. Isa nalang at ga-gradweyt na ako ng maaga sa subject na ‘to.

Kung magkataon nga, yari talaga ako kay ate. Ayoko pa namang dumagdag sa mga iisipin niya. Alam kong pagod na siya.

Nakakabagot talagang pumasok sa klaseng naka iskedyul tuwing weekends. Bukod sa wala naman itong kasali sa QPI(marking system ng paaralan ko), andaming dapat isaulo at dalhin sa klase, May mga tone-toneladang paperworks at reporting pa. Nakakaasar! Idagdag mo pa sa listahan ang mga batas na kelangan daw pag-aralan. Forty pages LANG DAW yun.

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Sudden Death

Nonfiction by | January 20, 2013

When you spend enough time with babies at the hospital, you would soon learn that contrary to popular belief, not all babies are cute and cuddly. As we were having our rounds at the Sick Neonates Ward that November morning, a particular set of 10-day old twins has proven to me that some of them can be pretty ugly.

It’s not that they were not at all cute or cuddly. It’s just that they looked so exaggeratedly unhealthy: their skin and lips bluish, their bodies small, their heads disproportionately large. When I saw them, I secretly thanked my luck that I was my group’s head nurse for that day. I didn’t have to directly handle those twins. I just have to supervise the staff nurse who did.

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Isang Dosenang Araw ng  Bakasyon

Nonfiction by | December 16, 2012

Taun-taon, inaabangan ng maraming empleyado ang bakasyon tuwing Disyembre. Masaya kasi. Masarap gumala. Maraming atraksyon sa paligid. Kabi-kabila ang handaan sa tahanan ng mga kaanak at kaibigan. At higit sa lahat, maraming pera mula sa bonus at 13th month pay. O ‘di ba, ang sarap lang sa bulsa!

At isa ako sa mga nasasabik na gumala. Isa ako sa mga nasasabik na gastusin ang laman ng aking ATM card. Minsan lang kasi itong magkalaman ng ganito kalaking halaga, kaya nanamnamin ko na. Isa ako sa mga nasasabik na magtampisaw sa dagat o ‘di kaya’y gumala nang gumala sa iba’t-ibang lugar. Kahit na sabihin pang dito lang sa Pilipinas, gala na ring maituturing ‘yon. Isang linggo bago ang bakasyon ay nakaplano na ang mga dapat kong gawin. Nakatala na sa aking tala-arawan ang mga lugar na gusto kong puntahan sa bakasyong ito. Labindalawang araw din ang aming bakasyon. Mahaba-mahaba rin ‘yon. Tamang-tama rin ang laman ng aking account para sa gala ko. 

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