WITH only hours to go before tomorrow’s barangay and Sangguniang Kabataan (SK) elections, we are bothered by reports indicating violent altercations among opposing candidates and their supporters. It is almost impossible to go over a police blotter without discovering verbal or physical tussles among runners. On the lighter side, white envelopes had allegedly run out, bought by “generous” candidates for one obvious reason.
Why would incumbent and aspiring barangay leaders buy votes unless they foresee “return on investment”? No doubt public service is a profitable enterprise.
As a senior citizen, I lament the loss of the self-denying altruism of village officials of yesteryears – the era before the declaration of President Marcos’ martial law in 1972.
Way back then, we did not use word barangay; it was barrio. And we chose our teniente del barrio and the kagawads by viva voce consensus rather than secret balloting. It was therefore most likely for the best men to win.
To this day, I remember that midnight when Zoilo Catague, the unforgettable teniente of San Pedro (a barangay in San Jose, Antique), woke us in behalf of a sick resident. He begged of my father to drive the man to the hospital on our jeepney at his expense. The teniente and the barrio council received no salary or allowance in those days.
In the 1950s and the early 60s, our teniente also led bayanihan undertakings – as in ligaw-balay or uprooting of a bamboo house to be transferred to another location. He would personally ask the able-bodied men to carry the house and later reward them with a round of tuba.
Whenever there was communal problem to solve or a project to undertake, the teniente del barrio and some companions would move around to announce a meeting at a specified location. Most families would send a representative or two. Whenever money had to be raised, the well-off ones would pick their own pockets while the less fortunate would help solicit donations.
The annual religious fiesta in our barangay was not limited to religious ceremonies and gastronomic delights. One would not be complete without boxing and wrestling matches, for which the more fortunate would willingly throw cash prizes to the winners. For many years, I still remember, a certain Zimo reigned as the fiesta’s wrestling champion.
Since they were politically powerless, barangay officials were in no position to corrupt or be corrupted.
While they barangay leaders got no financial incentive to impose peace and order, they organized rondas of young people who nightly patrolled the streets with makeshift rattan or wooden clubs at night. Whenever there was trouble, it rarely involved gunfire. Knife stabbings were even few and far between. With a few exceptions, only the police, the military and private citizens known to be of good moral character were allowed to possess guns.
I could not remember one moment when barangay officials openly campaigned for town and provincial candidates. Why should they when the candidates were more concerned with moral rather than material ascendancy?
The barrio came to be known as barangay when Marcos declared martial law in 1972. Obviously for the purpose of enforcing presidential decrees, he organized the barangay as the smallest political unit. He also initiated the organization of the hitherto unknown youth arm Kabataang Barangay (now known as Sangguniang Kabataan) with his daughter Imee as national chairman.
The fall of Marcos and the rise of President Cory Aquino did not crumble the barangay and youth organizations. On the contrary, it thrived with the holding of the first nationwide barangay/SK elections under the new 1987 Constitution on March 28, 1989 under Republic Act 6679. (hvego31@gmail.com/PN)
