CEBU, Philippines — Today’s kids might not recognize her, but Asia’s Diva, Dulce, has always been the pride of Cebu. Nobody knew it then, but the singer was a diamond in the rough. She was a star in plain sight who knew that she had to fight and claw to get her due.
Before there was Filipina singing sensation Dulce, there was Maria Teresa Llamedo. A native of Via Bulsita, Bulacao, Pardo, Tessie, as she was called by friends and family, was the sixth among eight siblings born to a kantora (church singer) mother and a construction worker for a father.
Growing up hearing her mother sing for fiestas while his father played the bajo, perhaps Tessie was bound to become a music lover of some sort in the future.
While other two-year-olds threw tantrums over balloons and candies, Tessie threw a fit because she wanted to join an amateur singing contest. The toddler insisted to sing, much to the confusion of the organizers who eventually relented to the child’s request. Upon her turn, Tessie sang about her father who was away for a construction job to the tune of “Gimingaw Ako.” She cried when the children laughed at her incorrect lyrics.
“Kani laging you just have this desire to express yourself. That was really it. I didn’t know about what singing was, there was just something in my heart that I wanted to express. At that time my father worked in other islands to build movie houses. All I know was that I missed him terribly,” Dulce recalls in an interview with The Freeman.
Born to a poor family in 1961 and growing up below the poverty line, Tessie learned early on how to find other ways to survive. She would help in the camote and rice fields, and scour the stream for little crabs and shrimps to help feed the family. If you worked hard, there was something to eat. She also joined singing competitions, often behind her mother’s back who found an apprehension towards the whole business.
“You don’t have anything so you create something. You have to find a way. Sayo man naminyo ang uban, pero sa ako dili man na mahimo. I wanted to get out. And of course you don’t really expect cash in competitions before. Instead you would bring home patis, ketchup, pancit. So happy kaayo ko, makakaon man diay ta ani,” she recalls.
As a grade schooler, Tessie would run off to queue for auditions with stains from the cinders on her arms after she did the cooking. Seeing her older siblings marrying off one by one, Tessie did not like the idea of settling with what she had. Despite her mother’s protestations, she was relentless – often borrowing money from a neighbor who owned a sari-sari store, refusing to take a proper seat in the jeepney so she could save what little money she had – just so she could go to radio and TV stations and audition. Only for them to shut the door at her face.
At 10 years old, Tessie was told she would never make it because she was ugly. This was said to her face after knocking on the doors of somebody’s office when she heard about auditions for a local TV station. But being persistent, Tessie refused to leave without a proper explanation on why they wouldn’t give her a chance.
“Makaingon gyud ko na I didn’t take no for an answer,” Dulce says as she recalls how upon lunch break, she made her way to the canteen, asked the band members who were having lunch to play for her and sang at the only door at the canteen, loud and clear to make sure the producers heard. And they did.
She became part of the line-up, and was paid a peso per appearance, eventually coming up with her first record and moving to a P5 salary rate.
Tessie was also singing for Cebuano films in the early 70s during the golden age of Cebuano cinema. People noted her singular style, but they didn’t know that she made her clothes from the extra cloth her mother used for her sewing job.
“I never get offended when people called me ugly. It never bothered me. I’ve always believed that I was created like this. I don’t have anything against people who do enhancements, wala may sayop ana. Para nako, dili lang siya terno sa akong personality and ginikanan. I came from this place, mao ni akong struggles. After all I made it this far, why not appreciate what I have,” Dulce reasons, revealing how her management froze her contract because she refused to get her nose done despite being pressured to do so.
“Basin musamot akong problema kung mugwapa ko,” Dulce, now 56 years old, adds in jest.
But that wasn’t the only discouragement for Tessie. Radio stations and competitions would often reject her for her song choices, her neighbors told her that she was trying too hard and that her singing style wasn’t any good. Little did they know that Tessie the grade schooler had no formal training nor a point of reference to learn from when it came to singing. She had taught herself, apart from listening to her mother’s singing in religious events.
“At that time, I cannot compare unsay nindot ug unsay dili. I learned from my mother and the contestants in the amateur contests. If they sang the wrong words, I sang the words too. Wa man koy radio, wala may television o turntable. I learned to be hands-on over time. If mapaka-uwawan ko in the moment, I pick up from there. If I embarrass myself on national television, I pick up the pieces from there.”
Aggressive and resourceful to say the least, Dulce was proud of who she was and where she came from. One of her identifying traits included dreaming big for herself and for her family. By the time she was 12 years old, Tessie had fantasized about boarding a ship to Manila and sailing to the capital on her way to her dreams.
“Namugos sad ko,” she said about how she came to Manila. “I would look at the ships and promised that I would ride one of them to Manila. Because I was already a regular on local shows, a producer approached my mother about going to Manila.”
When they got to Manila, sleeping on the floor, under the bed of her mother’s relatives, 12-year-old Tessie would brave the queue in Intramuros for “Tawag ng Tanghalan.” Once, when she got to the front, she was sent away because you had to be at least 13 to join. So she went to the back of the line and declared herself 13 at her next turn. But she wasn’t fooling anybody, so it took her six more months to get herself a slot in the singing competition.
Before 16-year-old Janine Berdin, there was 14-year-old Maria Teresa Llamedo. It didn’t take long for Tessie to show her tricks. Because upon making it to “Tawag ng Tanghalan,” she then won the weekly and monthly stages in 1975. From there, there was only more stage ahead.
Her stint in the contest led Tessie to more opportunities. At 14, she got her first break when she joined the second Metro Manila Popular Song Festival. Some of her experience had been shady. A talent scout led her to a night club along Roxas Boulevard, and Tessie sang there while her mother watched nervously and disapprovingly in the sidelines but was there for her barely teenage daughter nonetheless. Her mother had to drag her home to Cebu, because she was not happy with the environment that Tessie moved in. The lack of labor laws that protected her daughter also bothered Tessie’s mother.
Tessie was 16 when she ran away from home to pursue her career. Eventually, she had interpreted again for Metro Pop at 17 and in the same year at 1978, had recorded “Dulce Amor Incorporated,” the theme song for a Lorna Tolentino film. From there, as the track became a hit, Tessie was christened as Dulce.
Today, 40 years later, despite the mystery surrounding her mother’s disapproval, Dulce somehow understands her mom’s reluctance to support her daughter towards the limelight. But Dulce also knows how dangerous it can be to live in fear.
“Mao jud to iya stance. I would get so confused when people tell me that my mother was proud of me. There were so many questions in my head. But I know now because I’m older. Naa siyay gikahadlukan, she always lived in fear. But you cannot live in fear because mawala imong joy, you always end up fighting, and gamay inyong time together. Why not be happy, let go of your fears and do the best that you can with the gift that God has given you in any area or any stage,” Dulce quips.
She went on to conquer the industry, and was hailed as “Theme Song Queen” after recording a total of 30 songs for popular movies. Eventually, she moved onto bigger stages that allowed the probinsyana to sing for the world.
Despite not being part of the top three in the Metro Pop competition, Dulce was handpicked to represent the country in Hong Kong for the fourth Asian Songfest. Dulce won that year in 1979 after singing “Ako Ang Nasawi, Ako Nagwagi” in Tagalog despite more protests from sponsors who wanted her to woo the international audience with an English version. But they should have learned early on that Maria Theresa Llamedo was no pushover, and neither was Dulce who had also been offered a place in Miss Saigon, but had given way because of circumstance.
As she sang her way out of poverty, Dulce went on to win the Asia Pacific Singing Contest in 1988, receiving awards like the Highest Achievement Award from the Salamat Music Summer Voice Workshop in 1994, as well as the Lifetime Achievement Award in 2003 from the Aliw Awards.
Should people talk about growing thicker skin, they could take note from Dulce’s whose skin is practically chainmail and steel. She took an affinity for recycled art because of her upbringing, not wanting to see anything go to waste. Nothing was ever given to Dulce on a silver platter. Everything she had, she had to work hard for, paid for in blood, sweat and tears. If there was one thing that Dulce had received out of nowhere, it would be her talent.
But she knows who to thank for that gift.
“When people ask what’s the secret, I always say, God is no secret. There was a time in my life where naglisod ko. I surrendered everything to the Lord. I asked how I could be of use, and said that I would no longer sing, I would only serve Him. But I knew in my heart that God rebuked me directly. Nga kung kanus-a nga naa na ka, mutago na nuon ka. Gitagaan tika sa gift unya mutago na nuon ka. And I felt so ashamed,” Dulce recalls, adding that she realized how her talent is a manifestation of God’s power.
“I found my purpose that wherever I stand, I will never be ashamed about the gospel. When I sing, there is a part that is empowering, inspiring, that can touch the heart. I cannot sing tungod kay uso bisag dili na healthy words. The spirit confirms it with you. I can’t sing when I can’t understand or live it. Better sing songs that is you, that makes people connect with you, understand you, that makes them inspired and happy,” she says.
The Timeless Diva also had a few words for Sarah Geronimo, who recently expressed her emptiness despite living the life of a star. Dulce recalled how, during a guest appearance in the ABS-CBN variety show “ASAP,” she saw a hint of struggle in Sarah’s eyes that haunted her and had felt that the Pop Princess must have needed someone to talk to.
“I’m not saying that you rebel, I’m saying that if she feels that there are things that she has to do now, then do it now before it’s too late,” Dulce advises.
“Duna lang siguro struggle inside. She’s young, I hope she can find that part in her life where she will know what to do. She can get over this. God will always lead you to that. I’m always praying for her. She needs someone nga naay makastorya, to let it out. Someone to listen to her and not judge her.”
At this time and age where talents can put themselves out there as they would like, Dulce quips that although it wasn’t easy to even get noticed back in the day, the mediums and gateways available today might spread our talents too thinly for one’s liking. She advises budding artists to focus on themselves first before succumbing to the demands of other people.
“It’s so wide already. Before, it was difficult. Karon because of the availability of so many avenues you can use to create a name for, mura hinuon nga na spread too thin,” Dulce observes.
“Focus on what you want to do. Always focus on what you have, don’t compromise what you believe in. Focus on what you can do. Don’t try to be somebody else or be a look-alike or copycat. Don’t try to sound like anybody because the formula has been made, this is what sells, this is what makes you famous, only to regret it later on because your identity is lost.”