Last week brought in family members from Manila and elsewhere who wanted to take advantage of the long weekend.
Little did they know of course that about that same time, the power transformer in Alijis would cause outages in several parts in the city, though not in our home thankfully. However, our brother’s family were among those affected and though they checked in in one of the local resorts here on the first night, they transferred to our home after they were informed that it would take a couple of weeks for power to normalize.
Thankfully too, my sister Inday, who was with her son, Commie, and his family, rented a home for the long weekend in one of the villages in town that was not affected by the power outage and so we had enough room for everybody to sleep in.
First order of the day was to go en masse to watch the second screening of “and so it begins,” a documentary of the Leni Robredo campaign in 2022. After an early dinner at Lion’s Park in Manokan Country, 12 of us trooped to SM Cinema and it was some sort of reunion for ‘pink’ supporters of the former Vice President.
I wanted to catch the first screening last August 21 on the anniversary of the Ninoy Aquino assassination but I was in Manila then. I saw footages of that first screening though and most, if not all, were wearing pink.
When we watched though, I was the only one wearing pink then as other family members were not able to pack theirs. However, many patrons still came in their pink shirts, and this time around organizers gave out pink pandesals, reminiscent of the pink rallies.
The core group of the Laban Leni Negros Occidental were there handing out donated bottled water and the chatter was of course about the last election.
I was part of the LLNO core group and as soon as the possibility of bringing the documentary to town was first announced, the group chat came alive.
At the center of it all was LLNO spokesperson then, Pinky Mirano-Ocampo, Millie Kilayko and Tey Sevillano along with the other members. It was amazing how tickets were flying out after it was announced in public and even before the August 21 screening, there were already inquiries of the second screening as tickets sold out within 24 hours.
But unlike in the first screening when the moviegoers were within the network of the organizers and so getting the payment was fast, for the second screening, they had to put up an amount to pay SM and the film producers before they could sell tickets to the public. And just like in 2022, anonymous donors put up the initial fund so it could proceed.
Iloilo also announced that they have screenings of the film and sold tickets at P500, higher than the P300 price here, profits of which were donated back to Leni’s non-government organization that continues to respond to disasters and the like even if she is not part of government anymore.
It was a good documentary made by Ramona Diaz but although there were parts that I admittedly shed a tear or two, I felt that there was a lot missing, particularly stories from the masses or even the quick response of Leni at the aftermath of Typhoon Odette that more than humanized her and solidified her pronounced empathy for the people. That would have been a beautiful scene if captured.
I also understood where Diaz was going with her reference to Rappler’s Maria Ressa who went through a lot of harassment and abuses under the Duterte administration, however I felt that it was just too many and took away the focus on Leni.
But it was an honest review of what happened in the last election and why we, pink supporters, lost the polls despite the huge rallies we mounted. Leni’s admission of ignoring social media attacks at the beginning played a huge role in making the larger population believe all the lies and fake news.
There were sporadic applauses inside the theatre especially when scenes from Negros were shown and the nun seated beside me shyly admitted that she too, shed a tear.
The most poignant part was when one supporter unabashedly cried after Leni lost the polls. He was actually angry and frustrated that majority could not see his truth, our truth so to speak. But the calming realization came from Leni’s battlecry of “radikal na pagmamahal.”
After the movie, many still believed the Leni camp was cheated in the last election. A friend I bumped into told me so but I just smiled. More than anything, I felt sadder than I was in 2022 because that film merely affirmed what I knew then at least a week before the election that we were heading for a loss.
Cheating? Perhaps in some areas yes. But not that massive to topple the sitting president from where he was comfortably ensconced then, plus the fact that he had four years of preparation for the campaign after losing to Leni in 2018 for the vice-presidency.
Back in 2022, I sold my truck just before the polls. While waiting for a replacement, I was going around riding cabs and chatting up cab drivers. Except for a couple who agreed with me, most of them were pointing out fake stories circulated about Leni as if it was gospel truth. It was those conversations that made me realize that I was living in that little pink cocoon where I was sharing my truth to fellow Kakampinks but failed to reach out to the greater public where it matters most.
They say we are 15 million pink strong which is about 10 percent of our country’s population. It still is a good number and if all 15 million of us truly love our country, and not just the personality that leads us, we have to embrace “radikal na pagmamahal.” It can really be frustrating, but we cannot just give up what we have started. We need to continue the fight and engage those outside of our own little circle and continue hoping that someday, we will have a more mature electorate. Sadly, it will not be in 2025 and not even in the next presidential election.*