One early evening, not too long ago we experienced a frightful incident. We were on our way home from a mountain barangay. It was probably not yet very dark for us for which reason we did not turn our headlights on but it could have been dark enough for the few other motorists prompting them to light their way. In that course of travel, we almost figured in an accident. Only quick thinking and equally adept hands prevented what could have been a terrible vehicular crash.
On a narrow road, we met a fairly large blue-painted passenger bus, its bright headlights on high beam. It was descending while we had a hard time trying to negotiate an uphill climb. For a while, I thought the bus driver would find a space along the road to yield to us as it appeared to be much easier for him to do so. After all, the logic of the law on the right of way tells us that in a situation like that we had the right of way.
But, woe to us, the bus continued to plod on as if we did not exist. “Why was he not slowing down to a stop”? I asked in silence while bracing for an impact. By a good turn of events, our chauffeur correctly gambled on the grassy part of what he imagined to be a street and braked very hard. As we stopped and cursed, the bus whizzed by if nothing horrible was narrowly avoided.
The entire drama happened only in a fleeting period. Its suddenness and my consequent shock prevented me from getting the details of the vehicle. I only noted that it was mainly painted blue and had red plates to signify that it was a government vehicle. On its side though, the area most visible to us, it carried an ironically most caring marking “Serbisyu …” and the following words stood for the name of a high government official.
The other day, I saw another bus of a similar appearance as the one that almost hit us. It was parked at the front of a barangay hall. This time, I looked at it intently. Aha, they were of the same kind because this bus also announced to the world that it was a kind of “Serbisyu” to the people. What a learning I had!
When high officials (oh, there are many of them!) stay too long in government, they tend to warp their thoughts. Their minds get callous and their paradigms shift. The loss of the most basic sense of propriety may even transform them to be arrogant such that rather than being reigned in by truth and modesty, they are no longer afraid to claim certain projects as theirs. While, deep inside their psyche, they know that they are mere stewards of public funds assigned to them, they publicize the existence of such and such projects in words that unmistakably attribute their ownership.
Maybe, just maybe, the driver of that bus thought that because he was operating a vehicle written with the name of a mighty public official, he carried a presumed protective mantle of his boss. Was that why he acted like he owned the road we were then traveling on? The arrogant way of putting one’s name on a vehicle acquired by public funds as if it were of private ownership must have rubbed on the mental frame of the driver.
Stated differently, had it been clear to the driver that he was using a transportation unit owned by the people, he would have been considerate of other road users. As it happened, he was only manifesting the arrogant thought process of his boss.
This situation must not reign supreme. We need to restore some decency. I look forward to a day when our leaders instill in their minds that whenever they are entrusted with public funds for the prosecution of certain projects, they are not supposed to advertise their names on these undertakings. Who knows, when a government owned bus no longer projects private ownership, its driver acts with due consideration to other drivers on the road?
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Email: avenpiramide@yahoo.com.ph