How about this scenario: After doing the rounds at ABC (Camps Aguinaldo, Bonifacio and Crame) in 1973 and 1974, he continues to work with NGOs and the UP School of Economics drawing up alternative economic policies. He becomes a businessman and goes to work in Brussels, Belgium, from where he still supports the movement financially. Then he and his wife move to London, where he becomes a househusband for a year and much later establishes his own business. There he raises his family the best way he knows and continues the fight for human rights, this time on behalf of nurses and domestic helpers working there.
Alex Aquino – former student activist, president of the 1971 Ateneo Student Council – tends to think kindly of his fellow student activists 22 years after. "You become less judgmental when you become older," he says with a smile. "Of course, you still draw the line. Has he become a corrupt government official? Being a student activist during martial law – it’s a tag of honor, it means that you were able to stand up for principles. And that will carry; you will always have that desire to help, especially your fellow Filipinos."
Alex is now based in London with his wife Edna Ong-Aquino, who works for Amnesty International’s women, children and gay rights section, and their children Nilo, Paolo and Alexis.
That he would involve himself in a business that provides services to Filipinos is a logical conclusion. He established Metro International Express Ltd. with Filipino partners in 1995, a money transfer company that initially serviced the Philippines but now has presence in 70 countries. Prior to this, Alex set up the London shop of United Coconut Planters Bank (UCPB) which closed in 1995 after the bank’s administration changed hands.
Metro International has correspondents in various places around the world – banks or licensed money transfer companies that cover national boundaries and have offices in the major cities so people can withdraw money directly in cash the next day.
Its affiliate bank in the Philippines is I-Bank. The money transfer works like this: A Filipino working in London can send money to the Philippines which can be withdrawn or delivered the next day here. Even in places where I-Bank doesn’t have a branch, it can transfer the money to its affiliate banks nationwide through I-Remit. In London, Metro International is the only non-bank except for the Bangladesh High Commission that can service through the UK post office.
This medium-scale company is a mini-United Nations, if you will, with 11 nationalities working for Filipino managers. "It was easier for us to share the same vision, especially when you start out with the premise that you’re doing a service to your community. It’s not only Filipinos who remit money to their countries for exactly the same reasons: walang pang tuition ang mga bata, namatayan, walang pambayad ng kuryente. There is absolutely no difference, whether it’s an Arab, Filipino, Pakistani, Moslem, Catholic or Protestant."
As executive director, Alex has done position papers after the 9/11 attacks in New York. "Recently, Her Majesty’s Treasury (HMT) went around asking for opinions on how to stiffen or streamline the process. As money transfer agents, there’s always the possibility that some illegal transaction might be coursed through you. We have very strict internal rules that we impose on ourselves. We normally do not process anything over $3,000 without presentation of an ID. I think here they’re discussing the maximum threshold before reportorial requirements come into play, about P5 million? Nagugulat ako. Sa amin, $3,000 pa lang kailangan na ng passport. Sometimes you ask for bank statements; it’s important to us how you established the funds. Europe has a very well developed database, the money is easy to trace and it’s becoming stricter there. With bigger companies like Western Union or Moneygram, people can get their money at the corner pharmacy or cigar store. Which is why I always wrote about how people can be trained to spot suspicious transactions. Kami, we are in the middle, neither large nor small, we’re the ones who have to maintain the database."
Alex says the key in business is to know your client. He knows most of his clients by face, whether it’s a domestic helper who sends $30 a month to the Philippines or a computer technologist who sends a thousand dollars.
There is a part of Alex’s life where the former student activist surfaces and this, at an age when he and his wife are nearing the empty nest stage (eldest son Nilo is getting married), is one of the things he’s most proud of. "It’s a nice transition into old age," he says.
Last December 18, the Center for Filipinos was inaugurated. Chaired by his wife Edna Ong-Aquino, it’s the culmination of more than 12 years of struggle to have UK laws changed. Incidentally, says Alex, those who worked for the campaign have the same activist background as he and his wife.
Alex explains, "The center was instrumental into having the law changed so that Filipinos who came in with passports attached to their employers can now look for jobs and have permanent status in the UK. It’s not amnesty, it’s rights-based."
During the Gulf War, Arab families who moved to the UK were allowed to bring in their household help. These help had no individual visa, their stay in the UK depended on their employers. If the employer fired them, they had no choice but to go home to the Philippines or stay illegally. Now, about 3,000 Filipino maids who entered the UK with their employers’ visas can have now have their individual visas processed.
Two organizations were responsible for the campaign. One was the Center for Filipino Migrant Workers, which was established in 1979 in coordination with Philippine activist organizations here, and Kalayaan which became the campaign organization as distinct from the service center. The Center for Filipino Migrant Workers was the predecessor of the Center for Filipinos.
The center offers training courses, English classes, counseling sessions. Ninety percent of Filipinos who avail of these services are women. "The embassy in London has been very supportive. The current effort now is directed toward abused nurses."
And Alex has seen plenty of abused Filipinos abroad. He and his wife help by filing lawsuits on their behalf.
From Mendiola to Brussels to London. And back to the Philippines for a reunion with First Quarter Storm activists.
Alex recalls his days of disquiet, like the time he was expelled from the Ateneo and the Jesuits posted his picture and name at the school’s Gate 3 with the words "Banned for Life" and the January 20, 1970 rally, which he considers a turning point in his life. "
"Crossroads ko iyan in my personal life, in my choice of a partner, in the way we brought up our children, our commitments, how we conduct our lives at the present time. Even maybe in the way we view the world."
Alex hopes that the reunion was not only a reliving of memories but "a renewal of commitment." "The struggle continues, giving service to the people whether you’re in government or the private sector. That’s the spirit of such gatherings."
Alex considers his children as his greatest achievement and his biggest challenge. "The difficult part is instilling in your children the value of commitment to fellow countrymen and of course the traditional Filipino values, which sometimes clash with the values they are taught in school or pick up from their friends. We were lucky that in when we were still in the Philippines the environment the kids grew up in, in San Andres, was not so materialistic."
Harder still, he says, is raising kids in a foreign environment. "My wife and I believe that while there’s the natural tendency for assimilation, you must encourage expressions of your identity. The contradiction of maintaining their identity is a living thing, a daily thing. We work with teenagers in London, galit na galit sila sa parents nila bakit di sila tinuruan na magsalita ng Filpino o kaya Ilokano. They feel deprived. They strongly feel that part of themselves was lost."
Twenty-two years after the First Quarter Storm, Alex Aquino still lives and loves a good fight.