I spent some of my childhood years with my maternal grandmother in her big, old house built of hardwood in Tayum, Abra, before the war dismantled it piece by piece and we reassembled it in Quezon City. I remember very well long, lazy summers punctuated by excitement when relatives from all over the country and abroad would come visit my grandma. Sometimes, they would even stay over.
Among the most unforgettable personages were the Jickains from Mindanao who appeared like they were guests from Europe with their Spanish-French ancestry, blue eyes, aquiline noses, powdery white skin and Spanish-sounding language. Most unforgettable of all was Uncle Ed Jickain, whom the neighborhood girls swooned over. Not only was he tall, mestizo and strikingly handsome; he was, most of all, kind, gentle and exuded a certain charisma.
After my grandmother died in 1981, I heard no more of the Jickains, until a few years ago when two gorgeous male specimens, namely Martin and Luke became showbiz bywords. I found out later from my mom that Martin and Luke were my long-lost Uncle Ed’s sons. Of late, Martin has been the focus of the entertainment limelight and I felt people already had unfairly fixed in their minds a negative image of him, even when they did not really know anything about this poor, young guy.
Hence, I sought an interview with father and son. At the Old Spaghetti House in Bohol Ave. (owned by my UP Law batchmate J Castro), I had a feeling of déjà vu when the female habitués could not help but stare at Martin’s handsome face. My friends Baby Austria and Evelyn Sarao (yes, of the world-famous Sarao Filipino jeepneys) commented that the screen did not really do justice to his appeal as he was at least twice as attractive in person. I agree totally.
I would not have gotten much from Martin had Uncle Ed not been with him. Martin is not the type who would banner his positive attributes and successes. Nor would he stoop down to the level of saying negative things about other people in public. He is like his father — quiet, simple, gentle and unassuming.
Although their parents separated when they were young, Martin and Luke were raised as responsible, God-fearing children. They first stayed in the exclusive village of Loyola Heights then moved to the village of the old-rich, White Plains, and attended private schools. Weekends were spent with their dad in Taytay where Martin did apostolic work. It also showed Martin and Luke that there was another world, another reality. They would sleep in shanties that did not even have an electric fan or running water. They experienced what it was to be poor and learned a lot from it.
Martin, although sometimes playful with Luke, is very protective of his younger brother. He was kind to the household staff, especially because of his exposure to the poor. He loved his mom so much and would never, ever think of hurting her, nor any woman for that matter. As he grew up to be so good-looking, he was soon discovered to do fashion and commercial modeling.
At 19, Martin was earning more for himself, even investing later his hard-earned money on a business venture in Boracay. His parents became very proud of him.
Martin never experienced absolute happiness until Aiko Melendez gave birth to their beautiful daughter Marthena. Then only 22, Martin found himself enjoying fatherhood. He would play endlessly with his daughter and cuddle her.
At night, while his former co-models were still partying their cares away until the wee hours of the morning, he would already be sleeping with Marthena beside him. She was his world, his love, his life.
A few months ago, a court issued a Permanent Protection Order preventing Martin from seeing his daughter. Martin was devastated. At this point in the interview, Martin bared his heart to me. “I experienced such searing pain. I love my daughter so much. And I know she loves me, too. I cried every night. Not only was I deprived of my daughter’s company, Marthena was also deprived of her father’s. It was unbearable.”
Martin went to Baclaran every Wednesday to pray to God that he could be with Marthena again.
Before this interview was conducted, Martin was finally allowed by the court to see his daughter for a limited time once a week.
Again, Martin spoke, “Totoo po pala ‘yun. Yung kapag masayang-masaya ka, talagang maiiyak ka. It happened for the first time in my life. I cried with happiness knowing I could see my daughter again even only for a very short while.”
Martin would seldom speak, and when he did, I felt to my bones the sincerity of what he said. As he talked about the pain caused by the separation from his daughter, I also saw how Martin’s father suffered for his son. It was hard to bear looking at two people, so much alike, in so many ways, in so much pain.
I really do not know where the court case will lead. All I know is I felt and believed what I saw and heard. I’m a parent, too. I can relate to what Martin and his father are going through. I pray that all will end well, not only for Martin but more so for innocent, little Marthena.
(E-mail me at celebrationsdot@yahoo.com or text 0927-5000833.)