Nelia hails from Bulacan. Her family fondly calls her Neng. She left for the big city after graduation in highschool to help her family in the province. She is lucky, she says. She shares rent with her two friends in a run-down but reasonably livable apartment building in Manila. She wakes up every morning at 5 am sharp, readies herself and grinds it out with other commuters to get to the mall where she works as a sales person at one of the kiosks that sell knock off fragrances. She brought two pandesals and a boiled egg on her way out to eat for breakfast. Traffic is terrible so she leaves really early than be late. Trains are unreliable she says so she commutes via jeepney. Neng makes minimum wage and still needs to send money back to the province every pay check. She is fine, she insists, even lucky, as she has kept this job for seven years now without any problems. She smiles as a female customer, her first one of the day, approaches the kiosk.
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It all started as a grassroots movement of sorts. This brash, unassuming mayor from one of the biggest cities in the country, waded into the national political spectrum at the last hour and shook the comfortable political standings as we knew it. People were in awe of the Man from Davao, a living legend who transformed a lawless city in the politically turbulent South into one of the safest cities in the world. He had the quiet respect of Christians and Muslims alike, and even the communist insurgents were soft on him. He was after all, very much anti-establishment. He was very straightforward and undiplomatic but he also was very relatable and did not sit on his high horse like a regular politician. He radiated the aura of Filipino action movie heroes of the 80's and 90's, a "maginoo pero medyo bastos" personality, the one thing that stands between the oppressed poor and the abusive oligarchy. He looked into the cameras and in his signature Tagalog with a Visayan accent and diction, promised to replicate his success in Davao with the rest of the country.
The Man from Davao waltzed to win the presidency against the administration's bet in a big way. Islamic and communist rebels have sent feelers to once again sit at the negotiating table and let bygones be bygones. There was talk that his Cabinet will be comprised of the best and the brightest in the country. His victory was hailed as a victory of the common man. Until it no longer was.
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The Man from Davao inspired a populist movement. He is fondly called "Tatay" meaning father, by his admirers. He raised his fists into the air and screamed death to all those who deal and use illegal drugs. His admirers smelled blood and went into a frenzy. And so did the policemen. There were 4 million drug addicts in the country, the man from Davao said. Four percent of the entire population of the country takes part in the drug scourge. Four million drug addicts. That is more than all the doctors, nurses, policemen, armed forces, and teachers in the country combined. The nation shuddered at the figure. But they believed him. He was after all, Tatay Digong.
He curses on live TV, and that is forgivable, they say. He speaks from his heart. He cursed the Pope, a beloved figure in the largest Catholic nation in Asia. His words were taken out of context, they say. He spoke from his heart when he threatened to kill each and everyone of those involved in drugs. He will kill them all. Out of fear, hundreds of thousands surrendered to the police. They knew that the man from Davao was not playing around. Better come off clean now and promise to rehabilitate instead of being shot to death by the notorious DDS (Davao Death Squad), a hush-hush group of vigilantes who mete justice to repeat offenders and hardened criminals under the cover of darkness, and has now gone national. The already bursting jails became SRO spaces for all the drug repentant.
Then the bloodletting began. And the crowd cheered. The bodies piled up. And the crowd roared louder. A lady senator spoke against it and was thrown in jail, with the gang lords implicitly pointing to her as the mastermind of the drug trade in exchange for clemency. The crowd glared their evil eye on the lady senator, tagged with the color of the sun, the color now associated as the antithesis of all the glorious change that the man from Davao promised them. The man from Davao has by now transformed into a demi-god.
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Then a pattern started to emerge. Everyone who disagrees with the Man from Davao, is an imbecile, an idiot, a drug addict, and an unpatriotic goose all at once. Every protest, every disagreement is a form of disloyalty. And the Man from Davao tolerates none of this foolishness. The first to go is the duly elected VP of the country. She was disinvited to all executive functions in the cabinet while the Man from Davao cozied up to an old pal, Marcos Jr. She became the de facto leader of the yellows, now bitterly ostracized by the masses for not standing in line with the Man from Davao's policies. F the USA, F the UN, F the CHR, F the yellows, F anybody that does not shower the ground he walks on with petals. Disloyalty will not be tolerated in his presence. He is the best political strategist there is, his followers say. He knows what he is doing; he has a secret plan. Like how Scar the antagonist lion in the Lion King rallied the hyenas to his side, he embodied the "stick with me and you'll never go hungry again!" verbiage.
Next came the fake news. He did not openly endorse them but he obviously welcomed anything that would appeal to his base. All of a sudden, finding the best and the brightest is not so appealing anymore. He demands complete and utter loyalty. His base has gone rabid by this time, willing to attack any platform that shuns their savior. Suddenly, the mainstream media became a target. Fake news, fake news, complete with a Donald Trump pout. He handpicked a C-lister showbiz personality known for her outrageous blog to be part of his cabinet. Loyalty is rewarded in his domain. Disagree and you become a political pariah.
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There are rumors that the Man from Davao is deathly ill. The rumors strengthened when he went absent from the public eye for several days. His spokespeople have all the answers, skewed or otherwise. The Man from Davao reappeared before the world and did not look any bit less of himself. On the sides though, political upheaval was in the works. Movements in the political spectrum appear to be preparing for the worst: Marcos Jr was pressuring the Supreme Court to expedite his election protest case, an impeachment case was being readied vs the VP, a scandal emerges involving the head commissioner of the Commission on Elections, an impeachment case was in the works for the chief of the Supreme Court, and the operational budget for the CHR was slashed by the always administration friendly lower House to a measly $25. If you are not aligned with the vision of the Man from Davao, then you are an enemy. If you stayed with the lionesses in the movie, indeed you would have grown hungry and desperate.
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His loyal followers are unshakeable. Their president is omnipotent and omniscient. He is the antihero this country needs, just like Lee Kuan Yew did for Singapore. We need to cleanse the country of its filthy underbelly and we will prosper like never before. Kill all the drug addicts, the users, the dealers. Don't hesistate, Tatay Digong, we are behind you. F the yellows, we have your back. Kill them all. They have made their choice, kill them all. I want you to kill them all while I pray to God for your safety and good health. The irony is putrid, like the bodies policemen fetch from canals with bullet holes agape and hands tied behind their backs. Must be a drug user. Dear God, please keep our Tatay Digong healthy and strong, always dear God. But that drug user, kill them all.
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Neng ends her workday with a bang. She has exceeded her quota for the day. Her boss will be pleased. She already knew it will be dusky or even dark when she gets home, depending on traffic. Today is Thursday, it is payday. Neng walks into a pawnshop to send money back home. Later, she will pass by the neighborhood store to buy some canned goods, eggs and pandesal for daily consumption. She walks to the curb where she will take her commute back home. Traffic is going to suck this afternoon, she can already tell.
She gets home and turns the TV on. Her friend, Sandra, was just getting home too, while her other room mate Mai-Mai is getting ready for work. She works the night shift at a nearby hotel as an attendant. A news report about the Man from Davao chastising a former soldier turned senator on live TV came into view. Neng, blurts out "buti nga sa kanya" he deserves it, to which Sandra nods in agreement to.
Tonight, Neng will sleep in the same bunk bed she has slept on since coming to the big city, she will wake up at the same time, eat the same breakfast, take the same miserable commute and get paid the same amount she always had for the past seven years. Nothing has changed, really. None of that change is coming business happened. It is just more of the same. The same inept government. The same bickering Congress. Same pointless Senate hearings. It is the same for many people like Neng More of the same, day in and day out.
In the distance, three gunshots were heard. Followed by a screech of motorcycle tires and the panic of alarmed citizens. Neng, goes straight to the door and locks it. They turn the TV off. They already know what happened there. It has happened a couple of times before. For sure, they will see a 30 second clipping of it on tomorrow's evening news. Must be a drug user. Kill them all.
