Netnet Camomot
I’M looking out the window again. This is a room with a view—green trees, green grass, a glimpse of my bro’s house across the street. Family has always been my anchor. I pray with the help of my ancestors. With one going to be a saint, hopefully in our—the second generation—lifetime, even some friends are now advising me to pray through his intercession.
I’m not like my Tito Saint. He’s the elder bro of Dad, but that doesn’t make me saintly. What are the requirements, by the way, for one to become a saint someday? Hearing Mass daily? Confessing your sins every month? Fasting every Friday and all the days of Lent?
Msgr. Teofilo Camomot was simply our Tito Lolong. He used to stay in our house whenever he was in Cagayan de Oro. He and my parents would talk till forever after dinner, while there I was, listening. If only I could remember all their topics. Who would have known then that Tito’s holiness would reach this far?
He was the epitome of a priest. That’s why it’s hard for me to look at priests who don’t behave like priests. You know the type. But who am I to judge? I’m not saintly, remember?
Priests nowadays… Uh. Go ask some bankers.
But the Catholic Church has always been, let’s say, rich. That’s how it is, otherwise religion won’t thrive. This is a materialistic world that needs funds to make it go round. Even if you stay in one place, you’ll still need money for food, clothing, shelter.
The moment you decide to go out of the house, you need money for fare or for car and gasoline because you can only walk from here to there if it’s within marathon limits. Beyond that, you’ll need a ride. Once you’ve reached your destination, you’ll need money for food, shelter, and clothing if you haven’t packed any.
If you decide to make that destination as your new home, your needs will still revolve around food, clothing, shelter.
Even the Olympians and gold medalists now at Rio still have basic needs that have to be met otherwise all their training would go to waste. Imagine them without food, clothing, shelter while competing.
But here’s the obvious: Each of us can survive with three meals a day and snacks in between. If you’re eating more than that, you’ll get fat. There are people, though, who are eating much less due to their diet or to lack of funds. And I think there’s a saying somewhere that says, The rich diets, the poor starves.
Sans clothing and shelter, a human being can still survive through food. But health suffers without clothing and shelter. The health also suffers when the food ingested is bad for the health. But the hungry can’t choose if his funds or his begging can only afford instant noodles. The aim is to fill up the tummy at least once a day. The hungry tummy can then sleep the rest of the day away.
If your funds are only enough for the three basic needs, your health may also suffer if you have no budget for medicines, doctors’ fees, hospital confinements. That’s why the aim, aside from filling up the tummy, is preventive measures to keep the body healthy.
There are drug pushers who blame poverty for their “profession.” They sell drugs so they can have money for their and their families’ basic needs. That’s understandable—drugs, like graft and corruption, attract easy money. And they’re non-taxable! Woe to legit businesses whose owners have to pay taxes monthly—withholding tax, value-added tax, income tax, business taxes, real property tax, and so on and so forth, ad infinitum, ad nauseam. Thus, the need—not a basic need, though—to ask the accountant, What are the taxes due this month? Because once you forget, penalties galore.
Drugs’ “taxes” are in another “form,” handed from one hand to another, with a little wink-wink here, there, and everywhere. I wonder if their “tax collectors” also impose penalties for overdue accounts. Those dead bodies, a.k.a. extrajudicial killings, could be the penalties. Hmmm. What do you think?
The war on drugs has remained the top priority of the new administration and it’s making the country’s president forget about his promise to stop using PI—nope, doesn’t stand for Philippine Islands—in his speeches and press conferences once he’s president. And, if I’m not mistaken, I think I heard Philippine National Police Chief Bato dela Rosa also saying PI in at least one press conference. Or was that a speech?
A president is expected to behave a certain way—you know, presidential. It’s called branding. You’re representing a country, a company, an organization, a club, a group, thus, the need to be presidential. He may be on his way to solving the country’s problems, but there are Pinoys stuck in his PI and the threats he now throws against his detractors. This is one guy who wants to follow a straight line from Points A to B, woe to those who dare make that line crooked through search warrants, due process, and court hearings that could last a lifetime. While waiting for the court’s decision, the accused drug user, pusher or lord languishes in a detention cell that no longer provides perks such as concerts, photo ops with government’s bigwigs, TV sets, cell phones, and drug peddling and using.
It’s a new world for Pinas and Pinoys. The trees and grass are now green, thanks to rain, but there’s another form of justice hovering overhead along with the thunderstorms. Everyone is morphing into a judge whose judgment is considered as the last word. As the saying goes, Dead men tell no tales. Especially if he and his network are the only ones who can tell that tale.
The drug lord or pusher who doesn’t use drugs wins the game. He may be caught but at least his brain is not cooked yet, enabling him to defend himself against thunderstorms.
