In Filipino culture, we usually mark “babang luksa” exactly a year after a loved one had passed away. We put aside our deep-hued and black clothes of mourning for brighter ones, as if to step beyond our grieving and pain. It is supposed to be a public act by which we “let go of mourning” and declare that it is time to move on and start a new life.
By Fr. Pete Montallana
I could not believe that despite the bad publicity that the police received from the “hulidap” incident on Edsa last Sept. 1, law enforcers would do it again. I was sad and angry when I visited on Sept. 29 two Agta mothers—Marites Marquez, 43, and Rosario Marquez, 37—in jail in Tanay, crying and wondering why they ended up there.
I always wish for any president to succeed in bringing the most good to the most number of people during her or his incumbency. Presidents who were elected through mostly peaceful and orderly means deserve our prayers, at the very least, even if we didn’t vote for them.
What a heartening experience. Despite the constant drum of raindrops on the roof and the ceaseless pounding of habagat waves in our corner of the world, came these friends from the neighborhood to enliven my drab evening with an interesting discussion on the jailing of Bong Revilla and Jinggoy Estrada.
Is jailing the elderly a heartless act? What do we get in jailing 80- or 90-year-old offenders? Do they still have the energy to go into crime sprees or escape from prison cells?