The boy from Calamba as told to Lola Elyang
CEBU, Philippines - My name is Jose Rizal. But you can call me Pepe for that is how my parents and siblings call me. How I wish the family name was spelled Ricial, for it means the “green of young growth” or “green fields.”
I was born in Calamba on 19 June 1861 to Francisco Mercado Rizal and Teodora Alonso. That was between eleven and midnight, a few days before full moon. It was a Wednesday and my coming out in this world would have cost my mother her life had she not vowed to the Virgin of Antipolo to take me to her sanctuary by way of pilgrimage.
I am the seventh of 11 children. There’s Saturnina, Paciano, Narcisa, Olympia, Lucia and Maria before me. Then there’s Concepcion, Josefina, Trinidad and Soledad after.
My mother was my first tutor who taught me the alphabet at the age of three years old. When I was about eight, my mother already noticed that I love to write, aside from my other interests like painting and sculpting, because I had written a play in Tagalog, which was presented as part of the nightly activities for the Calamba fiesta.
I grew up to become an ophthalmologist - a doctor of the eyes. This way, I was able to help my mom who suffered from an eye ailment. But because I love writing, I ended up with two novels that became very, very controversial – the Noli Me Tangere (Touch Me Not) and the El Filibusterismo (The Revolutionary).
These writings incensed both the Spaniards because of the so-called “insulting symbolism.” Well, it is true that these works are “highly critical of the Spanish friars and the atrocities committed in the name of the Church” during their occupation.
Actually, I just believe that there could be no tyrants if there aren’t slaves. So I began wielding the mighty pen instead of the double-edged sword, standing by the strength of the revolution of the minds instead of bloodshed. I hated the corrupt friars and the bad government, so I was taken as a rebel when I began moving for the following reforms: Filipino priests instead of Spanish friars – like the Augustinians, Dominicans, and Franciscans – in parishes and remote sitios; freedom of assembly and speech; and equal rights before the law for both Filipino and Spaniard.
It’s true that I may have hurt the Spanish leaders when, after they rejected my request, I formed a civic movement called the La Liga Filipina. We advocated moderate social reforms through legal means, but we were disbanded by the governor. At that time, I was already declared an “enemy of the state” by the Spanish authorities because of the publication of the Noli and the Fili novels.
In July 1892, I was thrown in Dapitan in the province of Zamboanga del Norte. Rather than living a life of misery, I started building a school there, a hospital, and a water supply system in over four years of my stay. But I was taken back to Manila and on December 30, 1896, I faced death in Bagumbayan (now Luneta) for the crime of rebellion.
I am that boy from Calamba who wrote the story of Crisostomo Ibarra, Padre Damaso and of Maria Clara, of Basilio and his brother Crispin and their mentally challenged mother, Sisa, to represent social cancer which feeds on ignorance. I have been labeled National Hero. But I have left Providence to act on it, and have given time to time, awaiting from the will of God the future - good or bad.
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