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Raul Ilogon .

THE Ilogon family in Cagayan de Oro has its roots in Ilaya Carmen. Diha nalubong ang pusod sa among mga kagikan. My father left us a manuscript about the land of his birth, preserving in words the loving and caring nieghbors, the pre-war lifestyle and the scenic landscape by the river.

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Just a decade before World War II, my grandparents transferred to Licoan which was then at the outskirt of the town. It’s a crossroad — pier to the north, Divisoria to the south, highway to the east, and a bridge to the west. Probably, Licoan got its name because it’s a licoanan towards the pier, Lapasan, Holaw-holaw and Divisoria.

During the ’50s to ’70s, Licoan had the reputation of being the “wildest” part of the city. Pinakadaghan og bugoy. Licoan was ahead of its time. Naa nay traffic. Reason: street fights — the neighborhood’s toughest slugging it out in the streets. Even the boxers who rented the ground floor of my grandfather’s house were not spared. One by one, they were challenged to boxing matches. But oftentimes the boxing matches get too personal and spill out from the ring into the streets. Jeepney drivers would stop to watch free boxing bouts. Even the police would not interfere. Those were just the old school fistfights, mano-a-mano. Besides, the hospital was just a block away.

Some street fights were bloody and fatal. The wild boys were unstoppable. But there was one person whom they respected. At the entrance of our family compound my father, Jesus B. Ilogon, would appear holding his arnis stick wrapped in a sack. “Naa si Manong!” Without saying a word, only his mere presence would stop a fight. Similar to bonhok (chicken flea) hiding in the chicken’s thickest feathers, the rioting mob would scamper and disappear into the inner sanctums of Licoan.

In this wild and tough neighborhood, our family stood out among the rest, not because my uncles and elder brothers and cousins were tough but, perhaps, because the people have seen inside our hearts. Compassion and kindness were the way to their hearts. My grandparents would never say no to neighbors in need. All those who wanted work were recommended (good as hired) to government and private companies by my father, aunts, and uncles. Our doctor relatives would gladly treat neighbors for free. Bisan ang pinakabugoy nako nga uyoan would spend all his money on his barkada. Tio Bebe, the father of our incumbent barangay chairman, was considered as pinakabugoy sa tibook Cagayan but he was also known for his kind and gentle heart.

Politicians, starting from the time of our grandparents, would come to us for support. My lolo, being a well-established Boholano in Cagayan de Oro, was the acknowledged leader of his time. The late mayor Justiniano Borja would come to him for advice and support. Politicians knew that if they got Mr. Pastor Ilogon’s support, the large Boholano electorate would follow. From the pier, most if not all Boholano migrants would drop by Mr. Ilogon’s big house in Licoan for support and guidance. Some would settle in the city, others would venture forth in Bukidnon and Davao where land is abundant ug dili batoon.

When my cousin, Bajoy Ilogon, tried his luck and ran for barangay chairman of Licoan, the people supported him up to his last term. Likewise, three from our family became SK chairpersons in succession. And now, my nephew, Francis, the son of Hector, is trying his luck for the SK chairmanship.

My cousin already had his three terms. During his term, Barangay 25 finally got its own three-story barangay hall. He is now running for kagawad. Our friends and supporters said, “Ayaw na ninyo nag ihatag sa lain ang pagka barangay chairman. Kamo na dagan.” My brother Jinggoy who is running for kagawad could have easily taken his place as barangay chairman. Thanks but no thanks. It is time to fulfill a promise. During the last election, we promised the people that we will support Reuben Pacalioga for barangay chairman. We believe he is the best candidate to lead our barangay being a consistent No. 1 kagawad.

My grandfather promised his poor family in Bohol that he will study hard and uplift his family from poverty — a promise kept!

My father was 33 years old when his father died. He promised his mother he would take care of the education of his younger siblings — a promise kept!

My niece Monica, the daughter of Dolly, promised our father whatever happens she will become a doctor. Done!

We are family who keeps our promise and will always be true to our words.

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