To Noynoy on smoking: Marry, have kids

One of the best things I have heard from President Aquino so far was, quite surprisingly enough, something that I did not expect him to say. Noynoy told a group of young students never to try smoking, especially if they have not actually started the habit.

Noynoy, as everyone interested in celebrity trivia knows, is a heavy smoker. Well-meaning advice from friends, relatives and ordinary citizens for him to quit the vice, especially now that he is president, all fell on deaf ears.

As a former smoker myself, I really cannot blame Noynoy. No habit is perhaps as hard to kick as smoking. As Noynoy told his audience of students, so must I say: I should know. I have been there.

Smoking is very hard to get rid of because it is addictive. I used to force myself into believing that it was not. Anyone who told me so, I brushed off as just part of the overall argument against smoking. But it was I myself who eventually found out it was indeed addictive.

It happened deep into the night many years ago. As it takes me quite a while to get to sleep, cigarettes became a welcome companion as I battled insomnia. That night, I discovered to my horror that I forgot to stack up on my supply and had actually run out of cigarettes.

I actually started to panic on realizing there were no more sari-sari stores open at that ungodly hour and 24-hour convenience stores were too far away to risk getting mugged in the dead of night. 

So, with my forehead beginning to glisten with sweat, I started to scavenge through the ashtray to look for cigarette butts still long enough for me to light up and squeeze a few more puffs from. Looking back on that incident, I finally accepted the addictive influence of smoking.

I did manage to quit more than seven years ago, and in the most unusual way. I had help in the most tremendously persuasive way, and from the unlikeliest of sources — my youngest daughter Nina, who at the time was only three years old.

Here is how it happened: It was the morning of my nth birthday, and as had become the tradition, my daughters (I have three) would take turns clambering up my bed to kiss me their wishes for a happy birthday.

By the way, I have developed a way to illustrate starkly the age difference between my daughters and me. For instance, if my daughter was five, I would count out the numbers 1-2-3-4-5 and finish in a jiffy. See! I would announce triumphantly. I can count your age in one breath.

Then I would start counting out my age: 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10-11-12 and so on and so forth until I reach the number of my age. Needless to say, by the time I get there, I could hardly make a sound to blurt out the number from loss of breath.

Anyway, back to the girls kissing me happy birthday. After Nina kissed me at her turn, she suddenly asked how old I already was. I thought she wanted to play our little age-counting game, so I proceeded to count.

But Nina stopped me. No, she said, she just wanted to know how old I was right away. So I told her how old I was then. She paused for a while as if reflecting on some dire scenario. Then she blurted out: “Hapit na diay ka mamatay! (It won’t be long before you will die!).

I almost choked at what she said. And then slowly the truth about what she said began to dawn on me. And just as slowly I began to see what it meant for me. Here was my youngest daughter, all three years old of her. And I may not live long enough to see her become a dalaga.

As a father to three daughters, it has always been a big deal for me to watch them grow. It had been a tremendous pleasure for me to fetch my two elder daughters — Carmel and Lia — from school when they were in high school and budding dalagas. I wanted the same with Nina.

And so, right then and there, on my nth birthday seven years ago, I kicked the habit. I quit smoking with all resolve and no remorse. Just like that. And I am happy Noynoy is at least telling kids not to smoke even if he himself can’t quit. Maybe he should marry and have children.