Motives

By Emmanuelle

Sometimes, the best can turn out to be your worst. Friends, memories, etcetera. Let me tell you a true story.               

To these boys, growing up was parallel to going up the ladder to somewhere up there. And to make the ascent a whole lot easier, theirs were inherited sterling enterprises. There were no bloody sweaty beginnings; just sweaty starts to the day.

Luckily, some success stories work not so adversely for the rest of us mediocre, impoverished lot – these boys’ success was tempered with social conscience. Thanks a lot.

And so, one day, they gazed proudly at the near-finished church they helped rebuilt. It was a task which everybody believed was almost impossible to achieve in this lifetime. For the two boys and their friends, it was a task hurdled through intense, obsessive willpower. They asked themselves then: if we can rebuild these crumbling walls and all within, why, we can also do the same with this town!

And so, they did. At most, the older boy did – throughout the three full terms that he was seated mayor. He was the chief executive running the town with the mind, the skill and the will of the businessman that he was. Starting with a bankrupt municipal till, he went on to build a huge market to accommodate the traders and the buyers of surrounding towns, daily! Through strict collection of taxes and dues, he built the “face” of the town – buildings and parks and roads and schools, not forgetting social services. To augment, he sought the assistance of balikbayans and friends, thus, starting the trend.

As a town executive, a businessman, a human person – he was not entirely flawless, but the achievements of his nine years on the job will remain beyond the accepted idylls of comparison throughout the town’s history, past and present.

After nine years, the town, as the church, stands rebuilt – proud, and strong, and sure.  With more than a P50 million in future savings.

And this is where the heartache lies.

The younger held on to what he perceived was a promise tantamount to a blood-compact – that the older, if he can, will hold on to his seat for the maximum consecutive terms only, and to pass on to him, the younger, the mayoral  privilege with the strongest worded endorsement. 

There were two hitches however. Mistrust. And a congressman’s trust.

Mistrust. The younger one yielded too early and too easily to his inner-most fears – that that mutual compact is not as strong as he would like it to be. His mistrust caused waves and storms, within him and without. Mistrust became angst, angst became hatred. At the extreme, he crossed the line to the other side.  And personal battles deteriorated to a full-pledged war between two intense, strong-willed forces.  

When I mentioned the congressman’s trust, I meant the solon for the fifth district, Mark O. Conjuangco and his well-placed trust on the older one. For his last term in office, he expressed his desire that the status quo remains – the better to put into the final phase all his as yet unfinished plans and projects.

To the congressman, the wife is as good as the husband. And the congressman is as strong-willed as the protagonists in this story.

Thus, a fear became too real. The former friend felt left out in the cold. In the heat. And hatred reared its ugly head.

This is the story behind the mayoral fight in the town of Pozorrubio, Pangasinan. It might as well be the story behind other political fights elsewhere out there.

When you watch a fire engulf a whole forest, imagine the time you had a picnic on one of its cleared, green spaces. Remember then, when you see the coal embers.     

(For past columns, click http://sundaypunch.prepys.com/archives/category/opinion/feelings/)

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