Cory At 74

Former President Cory Aquino tuned 74 last Thursday but she may well be in the noontime of her life.

Her regimen consists of seven hours of deep uninterrupted sleep followed by nine rosaries throughout the day, a daily 15-minute walk to get to her noontime Mass, a busy work schedule devoted mostly to promoting micro-finance projects, and a therapeutic hour of painting. Before she calls it a day, the country’s first woman president cleanses her face with Extraderm cleanser, the affordable beauty aid of the Filipino everywoman.

Simply "Cory" or "Tita Cory" to the public (whereas Ferdinand Marcos was "FM," Fidel Ramos is "FVR" and Gloria Arroyo is "GMA") despite her stature and the power she once wielded, Corazon Aquino is someone many Filipinos can identify with. That is perhaps why, since she ascended the world’s stage, albeit reluctantly, upon the assassination of her husband, opposition leader Ninoy Aquino in 1983, Cory has held public attention and fascination, and a still deep reservoir of respect. There is a part of her life– though admittedly privileged from the start– that the everyman, the underdog, the oppressed, and the ordinary can relate to and draw inspiration from.

And there is a part of her life story that makes ordinary Filipinos think they can and will overcome. Every housewife who makes coffee, every mother who attends a PTA meeting, every political detainee’s wife knows now that she can make a difference in this world. Didn’t a housewife once overthrow a dictator and his army?

The restoration of democracy in the Philippines is certainly Cory Aquino’s greatest legacy, although she always insists she did not do it single-handedly. But her other legacy, one that often puts her on the shortlist of award-giving bodies here and abroad, is that she has shown and continues to show how making a difference in this world was never just the monopoly of the seasoned politician, the placard-carrying militant or the gun-wielding rebel.

In many ways, Cory Aquino’s life is part epic, part soap opera.

From the start, her entry seemed to signal a new dawn. Born 74 years ago to a landed family from Central Luzon, Cory’s birth was much-awaited. Her mother Demetria Sumulong Cojuangco had just lost an 18-month-old baby girl named Carmen, whose death cast a pall on the family, when Cory was born about four months later, on Jan. 25, 1933. Cory’s arrival lifted that pall.

Cory’s niece Marisse Reyes MacMurray, in her book Tide of Time, wrote: "My grandfather’s family would always associate the year of Cory’s birth, 1933, with some very happy memories. The blessing of their new house, which was finally ‘built from scratch,’ on Agno Street coincided with her baptism. Everyone seemed to be in high spirits." Cory was the sixth (after Carmen) of Jose and Metring’s eight children, six of whom survived childhood.

"Unnoticed as the sixth child," writes Marisse, "Auntie Cory’s mettle was tested by the furnace of war. Her oldest living brother, Pedro, had always been the star, the perennial honor student. During the war years, Auntie Cory had found a prescription for attention: ‘To be noticed in a large family, you would have to excel in your studies.’" She graduated valedictorian of her grade school class at the St. Scholastica’s College in Malate and even had a senator–her uncle Lorenzo Sumulong–write her valedictory. That was Cory Aquino’s very first speech, to be followed by countless others in her adulthood.

Growing up, Cory led the genteel and privileged life of the typical old rich. Trips abroad before the era of frequent-flyer miles. The best education in convent schools here and abroad (Raven Hill in Philadelphia and Mount Saint Vincent College in New York, where she majored in French and Math.)

Cory married a rising political star who was brilliant as he was thoughtful: Even before they were married he gifted her with an Amorsolo portrait. Cory was also marrying someone the family approved of and was the first daughter in her family who did not elope. "Eloping was not a disgrace then but it was frowned upon. I was the first one to get married in church and to Ninoy Aquino, somebody my parents liked. My ninong was President Magsaysay. So it was something they welcomed."

Ninoy was the favorite son-in-law of Cory’s father, Don Jose Cojuangco Sr., who entrusted to him the management of the family-owned Hacienda Luisita. After five children and a clear view of the presidency ahead of them, Ninoy and Cory lived a charmed life. Or so it seemed.

Their happily-ever-after turned into a tear-jerker. Ninoy was arrested on Sept. 23, 1972 and life was not going to be the same again for Cory and her five children. So much so that when Ninoy was brutally murdered on Aug. 21, 1983 at the tarmac of the Manila International Airport, Cory had been steeled for the worst.

"I had seven years and seven months of his imprisonment to prepare me. If I didn’t have that suffering, siguro I would have been broken. So in a way, I always tell people that that was the greatest learning experience for both Ninoy and me. We became better people. Without that experience, Ninoy wouldn’t have become the man that he became and I wouldn’t have been the person that I am today," Cory tells STARweek a week before she turned 74.

We are at a receiving room adjacent to her seventh floor office in the family-owned building in Makati, a room done in a shade of bright yellow–her signature color. Her paintings adorn the walls. On a table is the most recent family photo, taken on Christmas Eve 2006 at the Times Street home Ninoy built for her and where she continues to live. Smiling at the photo’s far right is the Aquino family’s newest member, basketball star James Yap, Kris’ husband.

She figures now that she was able to weather out the seven years and seven months because just when she thought she was at the end of her rope, the rope always became longer.

"You know, when you go through a really difficult time and you’d think, I hope this would be the end or I need some breathing space, God allows you to have even just a week of peace and then you’re able to recoup in such a way that you are able to bear your suffering again. But that’s how it was. More than anything, we were convinced that God would never send us something that we could not tackle."

She recalls how something like a tranquilizer saved the day for her and for Ninoy. It was on the day they were brought to Ninoy in Fort Magsaysay in Laur, Nueva Ecija, where he was under solitary confinement. After weeks of not knowing whether Ninoy was dead or alive, Cory and the children were finally allowed to see him.

"That was one of my worst experiences because I’d always thought of Ninoy as being able to handle anything and everything," recalls the former President. "And then there he was, suddenly no longer in control and he seemed to have given up. He was crying. I’ve never seen him cry before. I only managed because I had taken a tranquilizer before going there. And Ninoy, in his diary wrote, ‘I really felt so ashamed of myself. I wanted to be so brave in front of Cory and the children and there I was, sobbing. And Cory was so in control.’ He didn’t know… "

She can laugh now at the memory of that terrible day. "Can you imagine if both of us were crying and were just giving up at the same time? God allowed for us never to be feeling so low at the same time. If Ninoy was feeling low, then I would be okay. So God never allowed both of us to feel hopeless and helpless at the same time."

But probably the worst day in her life was when she was tested to the limit as both wife and mother. As Ninoy was recuperating from a 40-day hunger strike at the Veterans Memorial Hospital, the family’s two dogs brutally attacked Kris, biting her thigh and missing her femoral artery by a hairline.

The dogs wouldn’t let go of Kris, so Cory had to kneel as she was carrying her youngest daughter to the car, because if she stood up, she would be tearing Kris away from the dogs’ vicious hold.

Miraculously, one whistle from the gardener and the dogs let go of Kris, who was bleeding profusely. Cory wrapped her in a beach towel and rushed her to the FEU Hospital, where the little girl underwent an hour-long operation.

"After that, my older daughters Ballsy and Pinky were saying, ‘Mom, I think that’s the worst we saw you, because you were just crying away.’ Maur (Lichauco), my sister-in-law, called in Fr. Fermin, a theologian from UST, and I had met him before. I told him, ‘I don’t really know what else I have to do. What wrong did I do to deserve all of this? I don’t think I’ll be able to take anymore. Father, tell me what you think I should do in order to make up for whatever wrongs I had done before.’ He said, ‘No, no it’s not about something that you’ve done. Just pray. You’re doing the best that you can and do not blame yourself too much.’ But at that time, I was just sobbing."

When Cory gathered enough strength to visit Ninoy that day and tell him of what happened to Kris, husband and wife just looked at each other and cried.

"I remember this: I was thinking, what will happen next? Parang both of us were saying, ano ito? What have we done to deserve all of this?" Cory recalls.

Cory believes that aside from her faith in God, one reason she made it through the seven years was her family’s support. Don Jose and Doña Metring helped Cory out financially, so she never had to worry about the children’s needs. In fact, at one point, the Cojuangco patriarch, according to Marisse in her book Tide of Time, was even willing to give Hacienda Luisita to Marcos in exchange for Ninoy’s freedom. But Ninoy and Cory refused, saying it wouldn’t be fair to the other members of the family. In fact, Cory even suggested that she and Ninoy distance themselves from the rest of the family.

"But my grandfather would have none of it; he felt the whole family must suffer together," wrote Marisse.

But there were happy moments, recalls Cory, made happier because they were few and far between.

"One of them was when Viel graduated from grade seven, she was valedictorian so Ninoy was allowed to go to the graduation. But of course, it ended up with the military confiscating the cameras of the parents because they had taken pictures of Ninoy!" laughs Cory.

"At first, it was a surprise because I didn’t know that he would be allowed to attend the ceremony. But when we told him that Viel was valedictorian, he wrote to the authorities. Suddenly, he arrives during the graduation Mass in Poveda! And then, Pinky graduated cum laude from UP. So we were hoping Ninoy will be allowed. They said no, it will be difficult to guard him in UP, too many people. So what could we do? We were having dinner in a restaurant in Makati and then suddenly my father’s driver comes to us in that restaurant and says, ‘Naku, umuwi daw po kayo kasi pinauwi daw po si Ninoy.’ We rushed home, hoping we could still catch him. There was little traffic, so we were able to. So Ninoy told the children, ‘The rest of you better get medals so that I will be allowed to go out more often!’"

Cory also remembers how even dreams seemed to ease their tremendous emotional burdens.

"A few days after that incident in Fort Magsaysay, my eldest daughter Ballsy came to my room. She said, Mom, I dreamt last night about Dad. And he said, ‘Ballsy, from now on our code will be the palm of our hand.’ And then she said, ‘Mom, I wonder what that means?’ Because we did have a code, like we have names for everybody. Like if we talk about Imelda, we just said another name and then we change so that hopefully the guards or whoever’s taping us will get confused. Anyway that same day, I went to see Marilita Osmeña, the first wife of Serge. They lived in Makati and I said ‘Marilita, I came here to ask you. Any news, from Serge about Ninoy.’ And then she said, ‘You know what Cory, we were warned not to talk about Ninoy or about Pepe (Diokno). Otherwise, we would suffer the same fate of no more visits. We really have not talked about them from the time they were brought to Fort Magsaysay. But this morning, during my visit with Serge, I put out my palm and I wrote with my finger. N-I-N-O-Y. And Serge went like this (he points down with his thumb)."

So that was how Cory and the kids found out that Ninoy was finally back in Fort Bonifacio, in a room below Serge’s! Through palm language, as Ballsy had dreamt.

Another of her daughter’s dreams gave Cory some calm after Ninoy’s assassination several years later. When her daughter Pinky returned to the U.S. after Ninoy’s funeral, she was terribly sad and homesick. Then one day, she called up Cory and said, ‘Mom, you know I dreamt that you and I were in this hotel room and we’re waiting for Dad to call us. Then you told me, ‘Pinky, I have to go. I’ll be late for my appointment so just stay here.’ And then the phone rings and it’s Dad. And she tells him, ‘Dad, where are you because Mom has been waiting for you to call.’ Ninoy said daw na, ‘No, Pinky I’m here. I’m with somebody so handsome.’ Ano, Dad? ‘I’m with Jesus Christ.’ I heard that and I said, wow, yes maybe he wants to tell us that he’s okay. So I called up my mother-in-law (Doña Aurora Aquino) right away. I said, ‘Mommy, good news. Pinky called and she had this dream. And my mother-in-law said, salamat na lang that Ninoy is now with the Lord.’ Before martial law, I didn’t think much about dreams. But somehow, di ba in the Bible, you have people dreaming. But for me, I didn’t even have to go to the Bible… A nun told me that children’s dreams are very meaningful and what Ballsy dreamt and what Pinky dreamt were just... Wow!"

During Ninoy’s incarceration, every act of kindness meant a great deal to Cory, whose circle of friends became smaller and smaller. One of the few good men who crossed her life during the martial law years was then Defense Undersecretary Mike Barbero. He was one of the few people in government who made time to see her. Cory remembers seeking two other powerful men to intercede for one of Noynoy’s classmates, who was threatened with arrest after he was caught distributing pro-democracy pamphlets in FEU. Cory wanted to tell the authorities, "If you have to arrest anyone, just arrest my son, not his classmates who were just helping him."

One of the government men was a former lawyer of Cory’s father. The other was married to one of Cory’s relatives, who had in fact asked Ninoy when he was in the Commission on Appointments to give her husband an easy time. But both men ignored Cory, making her wait for hours for nothing. Only Barbero bothered to come out of his office to meet her. He told Cory: "In things like this I could help you. Hindi lang kita pwede tulungan yung tungkol kay Ninoy."

What strengthened Cory’s belief also in the beauty of God’s will was, ironically, Ninoy’s heart attack in 1980.

"When Ninoy suffered a heart attack, I said ‘Oh my gosh, there’s nothing to look forward to anymore.’ When he was still okay, you always think that Marcos is 15 years older than Ninoy, so maybe Ninoy will still have a good life after (Marcos’ death). But we never thought that the heart attack would allow us to go abroad and at least have three years of being together as a family. I suppose God will not send you more than what you are capable of experiencing. I think that’s how it was. I cannot say that I’m the bravest creature in the world. But with God’s help I was able to control my tears. Okay, maybe with the help of tranquilizers sometimes."

Now that she’s 74, is Cory Aquino slowing down to perhaps concentrate on her grandchildren and her painting?

"I guess not. I believe that while we’re in this world, we still have to do whatever we can to make life better, not only for ourselves but for others–especially those who have been disadvantaged in life. And so for the rest of my good years, I don’t say all my years because I don’t know how many good years I have left, I’d really like to devote time to micro-finance."

Three days before her birthday, Cory marked the first year of the PinoyME movement, which stands for Pinoy Micro-Enterprise, a consortium of companies, banks micro-finance institutions, academia and non-government organizations. Its goal is to make micro-finance reach five million poor households and raise P5 billion to help MFIs achieve this in five years. (Incidentally, five is a good number for Cory.)

"I want to make PinoyME an irresistible force for poverty reduction, people empowerment and national solidarity," says the country’s first woman president, who was honored last year by Time magazine as one of Asia’s heroes.

In the homefront, this is also a happy time for Cory, who is expecting her eighth grandchild this May, the firstborn of Kris and James Yap.

Cory seems to approve of her newest son-in-law. "I think Kris needed somebody who would be patient, someone who would not compete with her. One day, they were at home, sabi ko, ‘James, nayayabangan ka kay Kris?’ He was floored. ‘Hindi naman ho,’ he said. Siguro sabi niya I better say ‘hindi naman ho’ because when we got back home, kung ano pa sabihin ni Kris."

Most of all, she is happy Kris’ son Joshua likes James.

"I asked Josh, ‘You like Tito James?’ He said yes. He’s good to Josh," said the doting lola.

After praying for weeks for Noynoy, Cory is fully supporting her son, who has announced his bid for the Senate.

People who see her in person marvel at her radiance.

"I try not to worry," says Cory, who maintains her physical good health by taking a glass of milk daily. She uses pressed powder from The Face Shop, which was recommended by Kris. She recently increased her daily rosaries from four to nine, while praying for the intention of another son-in-law.

She doesn’t lose sleep over her critics. "I was always being compared to the ideal president. But the ideal president doesn’t exist."

She also doesn’t waste time thinking about those who put her down while she was president, realizing that she has been more blessed than her critics and detractors.

"I’m really grateful that I married Ninoy. I sincerely believe that we brought out the best in each other. I don’t see myself as having been able to do all these things that I did with somebody else. In the same way that he was also willing to sacrifice everything. We’ve encouraged each other especially during the difficult times. I really have nothing to complain about. Which was what I told my children before when I said I think I have to run for president. And it was Ballsy who said, ‘Mom, haven’t you suffered enough?’ I said, you know you have to think of it this way: compared to 90 percent of our fellow Filipinos, we’ve really had it much better, not only in terms of material things. Look at all the others. How maybe they would like to change places with us. That’s how life is. So we have to do more. In a way also, it was good that we went through those seven years and seven months. It was a learning experience for all of us, because otherwise, if they have not experienced suffering, then they would not have turned out the way they have."

Happy with her life, Cory has no birthday wish for herself.

"In fact, I never thought I’d live this long, that I’d outlived Ninoy for so many years," she smiles, the glow of her sunny yellow room reflected in her eyes.