And yet, even at the Quezon City Jail, Narag refused to give up hope, becoming, in his own way, a beacon of hope for others. He was instrumental in the establishment of a program to assist inmates facing charges in court through the university’s Pahinungod volunteer service arm. Under the program, UP students, working with Narag as their pointman, sifted through the inmates’ case records, provided them with legal assistance, conducted adult education and other projects.
Ever the scholar, Narag found time behind bars to enroll in the UP’s Open University, taking up courses in entrepreneurship and public management.
He even served as a mayor inside the jail for more than a year, overseeing the welfare of some 2,000 inmates. When he was mayor, there was hardly any riot in jail, he proudly notes, simply because he saw to it that everyone had understood and agreed on the need for a peaceful environment, where cells were so small that a minor altercation could turn into a full-blown riot. When he was there, he took good care of other UP students who were detained because of their involvement in fraternity violence.
He admitted though that there was a time when he doubted God for the misfortune that had befallen him. He was sitting on his tarima, or iron bunk, when he suddenly felt like the walls of his cell were closing in on him. "I felt suffocated. I was filled with self-pity. I blamed God for everything – why I chose to study in UP, why I joined the fraternity, why I was born."
But other people gave him encouragement and hope. He credits the UP Pahinungod for giving him a new perspective about life in jail. He now believes he earned his freedom by the power of prayer. "My experience has brought my whole family closer to God. I know it because they would pray for me everyday."
Narag would subsequently write about his experiences in jail as a Pahinungod volunteer in a section of a book on the university’s volunteer program, which was published recently. He plans to write a book-length treatment of what it means to live in a Philippine jail.
What’s really big on his mind is a collaborative project with the Office of the UP President for a sustained program to harness fraternities for positive purposes. The UP President has been supportive of the project, asking him to draft a proposal on the program, which he plans to name as the "Ambassadors for Peace."
He is recruiting other students who did time in jail because of fraternity violence to join his crusade. Narag said the Office of the Vice Chancellor for Student Affairs has also suggested that the project UP Barkada the organization linking all fraternities in the university. "This is an honest-to-goodness effort to make fraternities more relevant," he said. "Many young people look up to the university. It is a big tragedy when all they see about the university are reports in the media of senseless deaths caused by fraternity violence."
He said the Department of Education, Culture and Sports (DECS) should consider looking at fraternity violence as a major problem plaguing the country’s educational system. But he is not in favor of banning fraternities. Doing that, he said, would only force fraternities to go underground, where it would be more difficult for authorities to check on them. "Fraternities only need a reorientation of basic values. Their energies should be re-directed towards more productive endeavors."
Until now, he still finds it difficult to adjust to his life as a free man. This uneasiness he takes as a reminder that there are many others who suffer unjustly behind bars.
He is now involved as a full-time volunteer for Preso Foundation, a group working for the welfare of prisoners. The Commission on Human Rights has also invited him to share his insights on the plight of prisoners inside Philippine jails.
Indeed for Narag, the cause of fraternal non-violence on campus is what he is making of what history has made out of himself, to borrow a phrase from one philosopher.