Ka Aning is Juan Pagdanganan Jr., father of Secretary Obet Pagdanganan of the Department of Agrarian Reform (DAR).
Obet’s father was a tenant farmer who tilled land owned by a relative in Barangay Sto. Niño, Calumpit, Bulacan. But due to his father’s hard work and his own diligence, Obet (he finished Chemical Engineering summa cum laude, at the MLQ University) rose to become the top marketing man of Unilever, a job he gave up to serve government under then President Cory Aquino.
In September 28, 1990, Ka Aning was awarded the title over the parcel of land, comprising some 9,787 square meters, he tilled for the longest time.
Obet, then already Bulacan governor, was by Ka Aning’s side as he received his land title, covered by EP (Emancipation Patent) No. 4448. Obet singles out the occasion as "ang pinakamaligayang araw sa buhay ng aking ama."
But by then, Ka Aning has retired from the toils of the soil. He donated his farmland to his barangay as site for a school building, on which now proudly stands the Juan Pagdanganan, Jr. Elementary School.
Ka Aning passed away, liberated from this valley tears, less than two years after his emancipation from the bondage of the soil. Too bad, this agrarian reform beneficiary didn’t live to see his son become chief implementor of the agrarian reform program.
Ah, but Ka Aning can see his son Obet – from the great farmland in the sky.
Obet distinguished himself as a stout supporter of the program in his three terms as Bulacan governor.
All through those three terms, it was as if the provincial governor was the PARO (Provincial Agrarian Reform Officer). Taking his role as honorary chairman of the provincial Comprehensive Agrarian Reform Program (CARP) Implementing Team seriously, he made sure that the provincial government would be of help to DAR-Bulacan field workers and to beneficiaries over and above what was required or expected from the capitol.
The beneficiary’s son showed his special concern for CARP early on when the office of the Bulacan Register of Deeds burned down shortly after he was appointed OIC governor. With land ownership records razed, Obet allowed the provisional registration of emancipation patents – an unprecedented move in agrarian reform implementation. It bordered on the miraculous that while Bulacan land records were being reconstructed, CARP implementation in the province chalked up record accomplishments highlighted by a huge increase in land distribution – from only 339 hectares when the records were burned in 1987, to 3,298 hectares in 1989. The provisional registration of EPs pioneered by Obet in Bulacan was subsequently adopted in other provinces.
In another unprecedented move, Obet initiated door-to-door distribution of titles to beneficiaries, personally delivering the precious document to farmers even at the remotest barangays at their doorsteps.
CARP originally had 25 Strategic Operating Provinces (SOPs) – Bulacan not among them – having priority status on technical and financial assistance. On the strength of Obet’s persistent lobbying, his province to become the 26th SOP.
With a CARP beneficiary’s son as governor, Bulacan was one of the very few provinces where program implementation was a partnership between DAR and the provincial government instead of NGOs.
Obet’s governorship was marked by the emergence of Bulacan as the cooperative capital of the Philippines. Under Obet’s "cooperative revolution," the number of Bulacan coops grew from only 52 when he was installed OIC governor, to 975 when he completed his third term, with total assets ballooning from P78-million to P2.7-billion.
Obet was fed and educated, and became the man that he is today out of the sweat of his tenant farmer father’s brow.
Ka Aning is gone, but the son sees his father in every tenant farmer he encounters.
Obet’s passion as Agrarian Reform secretary is to serve his father’s well.
Much has been made of the absence of the multitude at last Tuesday’s celebration of the 17th anniversary of the EDSA Revolution. There used to be hundreds of thousands during each anniversary, but last Tuesday, the vendors and the cops outnumbered the EDSA veterans.
So where were the people?
They were in their homes, most likely enjoying the fruits of People Power I. After the restoration of democratic institutions after EDSA, people could pick up the phone and criticize top government leaders and their children and military officers and not be afraid they’d land in Crame the next day. Mothers of today could let their teen-aged children go out on a "gimmick," knowing that chances are slim these kids would end up in Mendiola or get arrested by Metrocom cops in the dead of night.
People were home making travel plans, knowing that as long as there are no legal restrictions to their travel, they could fly out to Hong Kong the following morning and be back to watch Karen Davila on the evening news that same day. During Martial Law, there was a travel ban and you had to come up with some cultural or official reason to travel before you would be allowed to leave the country. I remember I had a classmate who was the niece of the public works secretary then and she offered to let her tita intercede for me since I wanted to go to Hong Kong to see Ocean Park. Unfortunately, her tita never went to the phone each time I called.
Journalism students were probably home last Tuesday, doing their assignments, confident that when they graduated, they would land a job that could keep body and soul together. During my time, I took up Journalism after much agonizing. There were only three newspapers then, and a couple of TV stations. Did I have a future in Journalism? I wanted to be a heroine for the cause of truth, but I also wanted to earn enough to buy shoes from Via Veneto and have lobster bisque at Via Mare, and have a regular hot fudge sundae from MacDonald’s, which had just invaded our shores then. Was there freedom of the press at the end of the long dark tunnel of press censorship? I went to Journalism school not knowing the answer.
But for most of us from the middle class who were at EDSA, the struggle to realize our dreams no longer lies on that concrete highway. Just as long as we do not take our civil liberties for granted, we are correct in taking our struggle from the barricades to the boardrooms, from military camps to computer laboratories. The time has come for "Peso Power." When the peso has the power, People Power will have become even more meaningful.
And so I do not grieve that people did not go to EDSA last Tuesday. They have moved on along the highway of their dreams, and hopefully a better life is near.
(You may e-mail me at peopleasia@qinet.net)