Suicide run
A police report featured at TV Patrol caught my attention last February 9, 2006, just about the time when dinner was being served. It was a story of an 18-year old who tried to jump-off a billboard at Katipunan Ave., Quezon City. His name is Alvin Sangcalan, a native of Cagayan Valley. He was shivering in front of the camera, lying on the floor, all dirty, half-naked, and he was forcing himself to speak. He looked like a taong grasa.
Policemen later told the reporter that Alvin tried to commit suicide because he was hungry. Presumably lured of a promise of a better life, he left the province and went to Manila to look for a job. The story said that he worked as a kargador for a short period of time but was later fired. Having no relatives and no money for transportation, he wandered the streets looking for a job and for food.
I surmised that he tried to walk his way home, Quezon City being the exit towards the north. Out of desperation and hopelessness, he decided to end his life. What better way than to jump-off a billboard; there is no need for a piece of rope and a tree to hang himself into, or of motorists who could press on the brakes. All there is is the wind beneath one’s feet and that feeling of vertigo.
I always argued that hunger is the reason why there are so many taong grasa. Apart from the fact that they only have the clothes on their back, being exposed to the elements of nature day-in and day-out could have a big effect on the mind of a person. Hunger is a slow form of torture; your insides being eaten by its own emptiness, your spirit being sucked-out of all of its hope. Come to think of it, Alvin was luckier not because he was stopped by authorities from killing himself, but because he had not completely lost his mind. Maybe the taong grasa we see on the streets had already lost their wits before they had lost their courage to live.
But isn’t lining-up among throngs of people for a chance to win an instant million in itself suicidal? Suicide denotes hopelessness, of despair, and of desperation. We buy raffle tickets to test our luck but it is quite different when you line-up for a few days – afraid to leave your space lest others might overtake your turn.
And isn’t it also suicidal the way citizens take-up arms, whether in the military or not, to simply air their grievances. From the members of the Magdalo group to those who go to the mountains to demand for a change in the system, they risk both life and limb for a chance to be heard.
Or of the way the Department of Agrarian Reform (DAR) spent its fertilizer fund? To deprive someone of his chance to enrich his livelihood is to assist someone in his suicide. It might have meant the survival of the current administration, but it also spelt how graft and corruption could be so blatant.
According to Sen. Franklin Drilon, magaspang na magaspang. To use the words of Bro. Eddie Villanueva, garapal. Purportedly meant to assist small farmers, it allegedly ended up at the hands of administration candidates to boost the campaign of GMA. Isusubo na ng magsasaka, inagaw pa.
Fact is, when we look at the broader side of things, our nation is somehow conducting a suicide run; the way the government are running things; the way we look at ourselves as a people; and the way poverty is increasingly creeping among our midst. And they say that the economy is getting stronger by the day. Tell that to those who could not afford a decent meal.
And yes, let us not blame the government for the Wowowee tragedy. Let us also not put political color in the fertilizer fund. Let us all inculpate fate for our unfortunate existence. We must share the blame and the destiny of being damned. In spite of our jobs and our own contributions to the economy, of us shouldering the Reformed Value Added Tax (RVAT), the government should not be falsely accused.
But it was Confucius who said that, “In a country well-governed, poverty is a shame. In a country badly-governed, wealth is a shame.”
A carpenter or a jeepney driver who works from dusk ‘til dawn is far more deserving of a vacation than those who basked in Manny Pacquiao’s glory. Why can’t homeless families have even a quarter of the comforts of the residents at Malacañang? Why do we have to suffer in traffic while government big shots whisk their way using loud sirens and police assistance? And why do public officials, in spite of the small salary that the Constitution allows, have so much money? It is truly mind-boggling.
In Administration Law, Atty. Alfredo del Rio elucidated to us that public office is a public trust and public officers and employees are public servants. Both are mandated by law to perform their duties with utmost responsibility, integrity, loyalty and efficiency, and lead modest lives.
Ganyan talaga sa Pilipinas pero hindi dapat ganyan sa Pilipinas.
Hunger, poverty, hopelessness. One does need to be covered in dirt in order to live the life of a taong grasa. Figuratively, one does need to jump-off a billboard to commit suicide. For the growing margin of the underprivileged, poverty is a way of life. Hunger and hopelessness is its most trusted companion.
A police report featured at TV Patrol caught my attention last February 9, 2006, just about the time when dinner was being served. It was a story of an 18-year old who tried to jump-off a billboard at Katipunan Ave., Quezon City. His name is Alvin Sangcalan, a native of Cagayan Valley. He was shivering in front of the camera, lying on the floor, all dirty, half-naked, and he was forcing himself to speak. He looked like a taong grasa.
Policemen later told the reporter that Alvin tried to commit suicide because he was hungry. Presumably lured of a promise of a better life, he left the province and went to Manila to look for a job. The story said that he worked as a kargador for a short period of time but was later fired. Having no relatives and no money for transportation, he wandered the streets looking for a job and for food.
I surmised that he tried to walk his way home, Quezon City being the exit towards the north. Out of desperation and hopelessness, he decided to end his life. What better way than to jump-off a billboard; there is no need for a piece of rope and a tree to hang himself into, or of motorists who could press on the brakes. All there is is the wind beneath one’s feet and that feeling of vertigo.
I always argued that hunger is the reason why there are so many taong grasa. Apart from the fact that they only have the clothes on their back, being exposed to the elements of nature day-in and day-out could have a big effect on the mind of a person. Hunger is a slow form of torture; your insides being eaten by its own emptiness, your spirit being sucked-out of all of its hope. Come to think of it, Alvin was luckier not because he was stopped by authorities from killing himself, but because he had not completely lost his mind. Maybe the taong grasa we see on the streets had already lost their wits before they had lost their courage to live.
But isn’t lining-up among throngs of people for a chance to win an instant million in itself suicidal? Suicide denotes hopelessness, of despair, and of desperation. We buy raffle tickets to test our luck but it is quite different when you line-up for a few days – afraid to leave your space lest others might overtake your turn.
And isn’t it also suicidal the way citizens take-up arms, whether in the military or not, to simply air their grievances. From the members of the Magdalo group to those who go to the mountains to demand for a change in the system, they risk both life and limb for a chance to be heard.
Or of the way the Department of Agrarian Reform (DAR) spent its fertilizer fund? To deprive someone of his chance to enrich his livelihood is to assist someone in his suicide. It might have meant the survival of the current administration, but it also spelt how graft and corruption could be so blatant.
According to Sen. Franklin Drilon, magaspang na magaspang. To use the words of Bro. Eddie Villanueva, garapal. Purportedly meant to assist small farmers, it allegedly ended up at the hands of administration candidates to boost the campaign of GMA. Isusubo na ng magsasaka, inagaw pa.
Fact is, when we look at the broader side of things, our nation is somehow conducting a suicide run; the way the government are running things; the way we look at ourselves as a people; and the way poverty is increasingly creeping among our midst. And they say that the economy is getting stronger by the day. Tell that to those who could not afford a decent meal.
And yes, let us not blame the government for the Wowowee tragedy. Let us also not put political color in the fertilizer fund. Let us all inculpate fate for our unfortunate existence. We must share the blame and the destiny of being damned. In spite of our jobs and our own contributions to the economy, of us shouldering the Reformed Value Added Tax (RVAT), the government should not be falsely accused.
But it was Confucius who said that, “In a country well-governed, poverty is a shame. In a country badly-governed, wealth is a shame.”
A carpenter or a jeepney driver who works from dusk ‘til dawn is far more deserving of a vacation than those who basked in Manny Pacquiao’s glory. Why can’t homeless families have even a quarter of the comforts of the residents at Malacañang? Why do we have to suffer in traffic while government big shots whisk their way using loud sirens and police assistance? And why do public officials, in spite of the small salary that the Constitution allows, have so much money? It is truly mind-boggling.
In Administration Law, Atty. Alfredo del Rio elucidated to us that public office is a public trust and public officers and employees are public servants. Both are mandated by law to perform their duties with utmost responsibility, integrity, loyalty and efficiency, and lead modest lives.
Ganyan talaga sa Pilipinas pero hindi dapat ganyan sa Pilipinas.
Hunger, poverty, hopelessness. One does need to be covered in dirt in order to live the life of a taong grasa. Figuratively, one does need to jump-off a billboard to commit suicide. For the growing margin of the underprivileged, poverty is a way of life. Hunger and hopelessness is its most trusted companion.
