My own SONA (Sori Owee Na Ako)

By Al S. Mendoza

 

IF I were the President, my SONA tomorrow, July 27, would go like this.

Good afternoon to everybody.

I am sorry I am in front of you today.

For, as usual, I have nothing good to say.

I am sorry I will go on a faking spree again.

Blame it on the Constitution, which mandates me to be standing here before you today.

I am sorry I am going to mention a litany of lies. Again.

Blame it on my speechwriters, whom I pay good money to make deodorized speeches aka nonsense.

I am sorry I make my speech sound so beautiful and become music to the ears.

Blame it on my penchant to embrace hook, line and sinker every word fed to me by my paid hacks.

I am sorry I will have to state the opposite state of the nation.

The world is watching, you know.

You do not want us to be the laughingstock again, do you?

So I am sorry for this lie that our economy is growing by leaps and bounds.

Never mind if nearly 70 percent of our 100 million people still continue to live below poverty lines.

Nobody knows about that, anyway, except Joma, Fr. Jalandoni and Monsignor Cruz.

I am sorry to mislead you again about growth trends because investors are watching so intensely as usual.

Like the gullible bunch from Bubuntuquakoo, they also like to be fooled once in a while.

I brag about good governance and they readily bite like Dobermans thrown scraps of meat.

I am sorry nothing concrete has come out from the courts in the trials to put suspects in the Maguindanao Massacre behind bars.

Well, the main suspect in the brutal death of nearly 60 people, including more than 30 journalists, had died of cancer.

If that’s not a handsome bit of consolation, what is?

I am sorry that nothing yet has happened positively for the widows of our Fallen 44 in that equally senseless Mamasapano Massacre, even as I insist Gen. Purisima had nothing to do with the tragedy.

Blame it again on the Department of Justice, whose promise anew of a speedy resolution of the case has remained just that—all gobbledygook.

I am sorry that our metro train services have been going haywire every now and then.

Blame it on my inept train managers but not my friends at DOTC led by Sec. Abaya.

I am sorry that we continue to import rice even as I keep saying in my five previous SONAs about rice sufficiency happening under my watch.

Blame it on typhoons, climate change and, yes, rice smugglers, but, of course, not my friends at Agriculture led by Sec. Alcala.

I am sorry I have not spent much for infrastructure and other people-oriented services, the budget for those left to rot at Central Bank vaults.

Blame it on Budget department people not being pro-people, but not my friend Budget Secretary Abad.

I am sorry Grace Poe keeps snubbing me.

Blame it on Chiz Escudero, who also masterminded Mar Roxas’s VP defeat at the hands of Jojo Binay in 2010.

I am sorry I became your good-for-nothing President.

Blame it on Mar, whose good heart to make possible my stint at the Palace I didn’t put to good use all this time.

I am sorry I could not even repay Mar enough, occasioned sadly by my inability to make Grace his running mate in 2016.

Finally, in this my last SONA, I say from the bottom of my heart that I am sorry I failed my parents.

God forgive me.  Bye.

(For your comments and reactions, please email to: punch.sunday@gmail.com)

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