IT’S about time someone wrote a biography of Joaquin “Chino” P. Roces, the late publisher of the Manila Times.
After all, beyond the small circle of older Filipino journalists who worked with him, very few people remember, let alone recognize who he was, why he went to jail, and what he has done for this country.
Chit Estella, VERA Files Trustee, 54.
[Blogger’s note: Here’s another one from Arnold Tenorio, who wrote this editorial for the Manila Times. Arnold was able to meet Chit Estella when he was a reporter for BusinessWorld, he told me in a text message. He wrote a story on how Ms. Estella and fellow Manila Times staffers resigned in protest after the paper’s owner ran an apology regarding the story about ex-President Joseph Estrada’s involvement in a power plant deal. Picture above is from VERA Files. See: VERA Files. ]
AS we feared, the country’s so-called killer highway has claimed another life, and this time around, it hit closer to home.
On Friday night, fellow journalist and University of the Philippine professor Ma. Lourdes Estella-Simbulan, or Chit to family and friends, succumbed to severe injuries caused by a bus that rammed through the taxi she was riding on along Commonwealth Avenue. She was coming from UP on her way to meet friends for a get-together at the Ayala Techno-Hub.
First of all, we extend our condolences to her surviving kin, including her husband, noted anti-nuclear activist and UP professor, Rolando Simbulan. We lament the loss of an esteemed colleague in the journalism profession who had promoted good governance. Chit was a founding member of VERA Files, an investigative news outfit, and before that managing editor of The Manila Times and thereafter editor-in-chief of Pinoy Times.
It is ironic that a member of the poor — who stood to benefit the most from Chit’s advocacy — had dealt the blow that took her life.
According to news reports, the driver of the Universal Guiding Star bus that crashed into the taxi bearing Chit had been racing with a second unidentified bus before the deadly incident happened.
If the incident happened late into the night or maybe in the wee hours of the morning, then we wouldn’t be so surprised at the behavior of the bus drivers concerned. In fact, many accidents along Commonwealth happen during those unholy hours when traffic enforcers of the Metropolitan Manila Development Authority (MMDA) can hardly be seen.
The shocking news is that the incident happened at six in the evening or during rush hour. The million-peso question is, what happened to the MMDA’s full-court press to make Commonwealth a safer and more orderly road for motorists and commuters? If the witness accounts were accurate, then why were two buses racing like hell along Commonwealth at about the time when the MMDA was supposedly at its most vigilant?
To recall, the MMDA’s vaunted traffic scheme along Commonwealth involved the deployment of enforcers particularly during rush hour and equipping them with speed guns. This was on top of the closed-circuit TV units installed to monitor compliance with the 60-kilometer speed limit.
Don’t get us wrong. The Times was among the first to commend the new leadership at the MMDA for its efforts, which appear more sensible than the traffic measures implemented by the previous administration.
Pending an investigation by the MMDA, we can surmise that the daylight tragedy that took Chit’s life undescores the obvious logistical limitations of the agency tasked with imposing some rhyme and reason on Metro Manila’s streets. But if this unwarranted loss was caused by negligent enforcers whose visibility could have discouraged bus-racing along Commonwealth, then the MMDA leadership should let the axe fall.
Beyond the issue of logistics, Chit’s death highlights the urgent need to review the grant of licenses to public utility vehicle (PUV) drivers. It should be impressed upon PUV drivers that their license, like the franchises of their operators, is a public trust that regulators can withhold at the slightest injury to the riding public and other motorists.
The indiscriminate issuance of licenses particularly to PUV drivers points to the need to restrict the grant of this badge of public trust, on top of efforts to eradicate corruption at the Land Transporation Office (LTO). In countries with rational traffic policies, violators are meted heavy penalties, if not barred from returning to the streets behind the wheel for months, or even years.
The time has come for PUV license applicants to pass a more stringent test involving among others, their literacy level and psychological profile. Obviously, the simplistic equation of drug users as bad drivers has not prevented the deadliest vehicular incidents on Metro Manila’s streets. Holding in one’s hands the fate of other people requires a more stable emotional disposition than what we usually observe among PUV drivers.
Anecdotal evidence on prime-time news also has shown that many PUV drivers don’t even know what the yield sign stands for. Poverty shouldn’t be used as an excuse to grant every Tom, Dick or Harry a driver’s license. Driving should not be a recourse for the illiterate.
In the aftermath of this tragedy, the LTO should undertake an inventory of PUV drivers’ licenses isused so far, screen the recipients, and if need be, cancel those issued to recalcitrant traffic violators. Having done this, bus operators should be required to check the backgrounds of driver-applicants and refuse employment to those who don’t receive a seal of safety from the LTO.
Apart from regulators, the public at large should help police the ranks of PUV drivers and their operators. With the popularity of outdoor advertising, companies and other entities should desist from placing ads on bus companies with bad traffic records.
In turn, the commuting public and other motorists should boycott the products or services of companies that insist on placing ads with bus firms having notorious traffic records.
We cannot even begin to count the cost of Chit’s untimely demise. Let’s not allow her death go to waste.
To Alecks Pabico, who wouldn’t mind my jokes
Next to feigning sickness and alien abduction, the death of a family member or a friend is one of the better excuses to avoid going to the office.
This was exactly the reason why I was able to skip work for two days, however short and temporary.
I told my supervisors that a friend died and I was in quiet mourning (i.e., comforting my similarly-bereaved friends while drinking vodka at the wake on the sly).
In doing so, I accidentally stumbled upon one of life’s most well-kept secrets: to avoid work, have someone you know die.
But that’s not as easy as it sounds.
And in the case of Alecks Pabico, the very first Philippine Collegian editor I served, I would rather be a bundy clock boy and HR’s BFF than have him beat deadlines somewhere else.
Alecks, who calls himself Rastamad, shown during daughter Kaya's seventh birthday
Alecks was so loved that hours after he died on Wednesday last week, funeral arrangements were already being prepared by an ad hoc committee composed of his friends — an ADB consultant, a UP law professor, a litigator, and myself, a drunkard.
Although I fail to remember having to volunteer for such a responsibility, I took to the mission with much aplomb since it involved free alcoholic drinks upon its successful completion.
Moreover, it was my only way of paying tribute to Alecks, one of the gentlest, funniest people I have known (and I say that as someone who excoriates the living, the dead, and other half-dead entities whose only contributions to this planet are hot air and carbon emissions).
My task at Aleck’s wake, while easy, was both a curse and a privilege.
It helped me get in touch with other friends I haven’t seen in decades but it also emphasized that the instant reunion was brought about by Alecks’ demise — an eventuality that he was prepared to face even before he knew his time was up.
About a week before he died, he delivered a speech during a benefit concert held in his honor.
Alecks pretended to stumble on the stage, much to the horror of the audience. He then chuckled, poking fun at the audience’s worst fears.
During his remarks — which I missed by an hour — he also made light of his condition, just about the same attitude he exuded the last time he and I made contact.
Sadly, it was only through Facebook (though we did see each other in August when Collegian alumni held a separate dinner in his honor).
Two weeks before the benefit concert, he uploaded an image of the concert ticket and wrote a status message that said: “Look at what friends from UP Samasa are plotting, but with my consent, of course. To those whom I count as friends, hope you support the effort. Thanks!”
I was the first to reply and did so in jest. “What about your enemies? What will they do? :),” I said.
Alecks was nonplussed.
“Hmmmm, how about asking yourself that question? :-P”
Hours later, in the same status thread, he gave me a gentle reminder, something which I will never forget.
““Enemies” invoke a lot of negative energy. Dwelling on the negative only serves to defeat the event’s very purpose, which is to send positive, healing vibrations.”
So I said: “OK, smart Alecks. I’ll send you good vibes. :)”
Apparently, my online gesture wasn’t enough.
Goodbye, my friend.
Too bad we weren’t able to see each other one final time.
In any case, I’ll always remember you, Alecks — inside and outside Facebook.
Just promise to go easy on updating your status messages.
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Contributions for the family of Alecks Pabico are still accepted at http://onelove.chipin.com. All funds will be allotted for his family, wife Mira, daughters Marlee and Kaya, and son Giles.
