Sow what you reap: An Open Letter to the President

Dear Madam President,

I hope you’re in great shape before reading this love-hate letter, because I’m daydreaming for another emotion to sink in to your sacred, grandmotherly heart after reading this.

I resent being a young adult. It’s a big term for me, huge enough for me to get anxious of its perks. I have unwelcomely reached twenty just two months ago, and received my bittersweet diploma on the same period. A twenty-year old badge plus a college diploma are not a good mix I tell you; some have been and currently in my shoes so sure they know what it feels like. But the stigma is not yet over, our country’s economic figures are just one-round off shy to recession. I won’t just mention here that even before CNN has managed to inject the word recession in every one minute of their broadcast, the bottom 90 percent of the Filipino people have already been living in its supposed aftermath—daily life struggle at its finest (pun always intended), and I want to acknowledge your exemplary governance here. You count me in on the figure. Twenty-year olds and so at this time are on the verge of despair over our country’s fate, and again, I join the ranks.

I’m a post-Edsa I baby, if that still appeals to your senses. And I too am an Edsa II kid; I was at sixth Grade when some of the young took up the refresher course of old about ‘Think Again 101: How to sack a president when he’s gone too far’. I also deliberately did a home study so I could cope up with something I believed was a great refresher. I might be 30-plus kilometers far from the scene but I tell you, I figuratively guarded your way up to Malacañang. I placed my bet on you. In 2004 general elections, at 14, even when you cried wolf and ran for greed, err, president, I still gambled and entrusted my uncounted ballot to you.

Madam president, I did careful judgment on every single stone your critics threw unto you; it’s like viewing a valued shares of stock plunge yet hope against hope that it will soon recover. Still, I kept loyal.

But enough is enough, madam president. I need not mention this but when your crying sorry for ‘lack of judgment’ got in to my resting nerves, when a poker-faced Gloria excused herself from the price of phoning a commissioner, when you mastered the discipline of gluing your tired a*s from seating on your eight-year old treasured high-chair, my doze of tolerance has gone sick. You stepped on my tipping point.

You have failed me. And you have failed just everyone else who placed a bet of trust on you. Thanks to our prime moment, the youth, among all segments, have the sharpest memory nobody could stand. You have asked for forgiveness, but we find hard to return the favor when the other end shows no remorse.

And just now, amid issues of eight years of unpopularity and flopped presidency, among others, you have all the guts to engineer your celebration of enormous power. No thanks to your allies who do all their concerted might to carnal attack the Constitution for your pleasure, our country is now one-string away to a banana republic. I cannot help but think: What are you thinking?

But when my tolerance for evil ends, my seek for good begins. And I concede no one’s perfect, madam president. As devout Catholic as you are, I believe forces of good will still hit your heart. I’m now speaking to you as a supposed loving grandchild.

Lola Gloria, you’re now 62 and lolo Mike’s 63, I appeal for you to breathe some fresh air and mull over: What have we done to our native land? How will people write down our history? What are we to pass on to our grandchildren, to the youth of today?

Lola Gloria, you now take a rest. Bring with you lolo Mike. Have you seen the blossoming of orchids in the garden lately? Lola Gloria, you now take a rest. Bring with you lolo Mike. Abort your plans for 2010. Sure, you have vast fields all over the country, but I’m sure you now terribly miss Lubao, you keep on coming back there recently I was told, so why not spend the rest of your retiring years there? You two lovely couple will surely fit in there. Lola Gloria, your unexploited backyard is waiting for you there, plant lovely flowers and let lolo Mike give you a hand. You keep a fertilizer scam, err, spray on your hand and a shovel at lolo Mike’s. What a great picture, isn’t it? Who knows, there you’ll finally experience a ‘eureka moment’ when you get to dig in a long-abandoned maxim: Kung anong iyong itinanim, sya mo ring aanihin. (Reap what you sow.)

My concern for you both made me search for the Philippines’ average lifespan. I startled for your closeness to the figures: 70 for men, 73 for women. Lola Gloria and lolo Mike, on 2010, may you rest, in Lubao.

We don’t want another Imelda in the list of greediest of all time, if that time comes, I might seriously consider be one in the 2,000 daily average of Pinoys who’d find refuge in a foreign land.

Madam president, please don’t fail us now; our generation plea for your mercy on us. We've had enough suffering at this early life. Please spare us from another years, or even worse, another generation of failed dreams. Don’t let us rupture and desperately ask for natural force to meddle in and bring forth your ultimate rest. We don’t want that to happen. Filipinos give high respect for the elderly. Let us keep that values running.

I am deeply sorry if you find the letter unlikely for a twenty-year old, but please teach us to write a thank you letter.

Sincerely,
Your grandchild