MY HONOR
I will graduate with honors. This April 20 and 21, 2002, the UP National College
of Public Administration and Governance (NCPAG) and the University of the Philippines
will confer upon me my bachelor’s degree Cum Laude. I will march tall and proud
together with other graduates seven years younger than my batch.
I should have graduated April 27, 1995. Unfortunately, just three days before the
commencement exercises, a warrant of arrest was issued against me. I was allegedly part
of a youthful brawl that caused the death of a young promising man. Together with other
10 other accused, I voluntarily surrendered to police authorities and submitted myself to
the courts. Instead of a diploma, I showed my parents the papers taking me away from
their custody and placing me under detention. Instead of marching to the stage with the
applause of friends and relatives, I dragged my feet to the prison cell. My parents
figuratively died. My family uprooted.
I languished in jail for six years, nine months and four days. I endured the full
length of a criminal prosecution, or more appropriately, persecution. I patiently waited
for the day of freedom, counting the days, weeks, months, and years as they come one by
one. I silently bore the humiliation of getting out of the cells with handcuffs. I
chivalrously let go the love of my life when she asked a time out because she had been
too pressured to defend our situation. I accepted my fate peacefully– knowing that there
is a reason for everything.
And indeed I had a mission. My exposure to the jail situation opened my eyes to
the realities of the world. Our jail bureau is the least prioritized of all government
agencies. It is low budgeted, it lacks facilities, and it is undermanned. Two thousand
inmates are cramped in a building that can accommodate only seven hundred.
The jail developed a culture and political structure of its own. In order to support
its custodial force, the jail management recognized the role of inmate leaders in the
maintenance of peace and order and for the implementation of reformatory programs. For
the inmates to protect themselves from the abuses of some erring jail guards, they formed
and affiliated themselves with gangs, only to be abused later on by their own leaders. Jail
community is not so different from Philippine society, where interest groups vie for
limited resources, each one trying to outdo the others. There is corruption by the
powerful, there is neglect on those who are supposed to serve, the weak and the
uneducated are put on the sidelines and too afraid to speak and apathy and cynicism
engulf most members of the community. The jail is in a perpetual state of structural
conflict.
Paradoxical as it may be, this pathetic situation gave me the opportunity to show
and prove the world that I am innocent. With my Public Administration background, I
became a “trustee” in the jail’s record section and helped in classifying and encoding of
the inmate files. Together with other detainees, we came up with a Functional Literacy
Class Program that taught literacy and numeracy to inmates who did not finish
elementary or high school education. We organized a paralegal desk through the support
of volunteer units like the University of the Philippines Ugnayan ng Pahinungód, Preso
Foundation, and Caritas Manila in order to expedite the disposition of the cases of my
fellow inmates. We came up with spiritual programs like the Kristo Okay Sa Amin
(KOSA) and enjoined our fellows in prayer meetings and bible sharing. We had thrice a
year sports tournaments and regular cultural presentations, producing groups like the “No
Bail Band”, the famous all-inmate band which produced the “Hiram na Buhay” an hit
anti-death penalty song. I treated my fellow inmates not as criminals to be condemned
but as souls wanting to be helped. Eventually, I became the recognized leader of the
inmates, after winning their trust and confidence, and became the Mini-City Mayor of the
Kapit Bisig 2000 Incorporated, a SEC-registered organization of inmates. As a mayor, I
professionalized the relationship of the inmate leaders and the jail management and
placed mechanisms that curbed graft and corruption. I articulated clearly the needs and
aspirations of my constituency by putting these demands in the right perspective and
proper forum. I came up with a Peace and Order Council that facilitated the resolution of
conflicts among the warring gangs and proposed long-term solutions. These were done
by empowering the gang leaders, by continually appealing to their good sense, and by
delegating to them the responsibility to maintain peace.
Still, this experience in conflict resolution yet put me in another endeavor—to
help in the maintenance of peace in campuses, which are constantly disturbed because of
fraternity violence. I gathered all inmates with fraternity-related cases and learned from
our experiences. As a living testimony, I asked the court to allow me to share my
experience to other fratmen out there, praying that they will heed the voice for peace.
I did all these with the passion of a man enlightened with a vision. I had no hatred
and bitterness. I was also a victim here—but a victim who will use his wretchedness to
make positive changes in the society. I shall not allow the idiocy of my situation turn me
into a lowlife that I am not. I graduated with honors, remember, then, I shall be
honorable. And I asked God, no, I claimed from God my freedom, vowing that my
experience shall be shared to anyone who would care to listen, if He allows me to live in
the wild free world.
And it came.
On February 28, 2002, the Regional Trial Court declared my innocence. Evidence
established that I was not in the scene of the crime. I was not part of the fracas. Of course,
I was wrongfully accused! I went home a free man because I had proven and shown that I
was innocent. My parents figuratively lived again.
My acquittal in the criminal case was the basis for my college to push for the
conferment of my honors in the University Council. Now that I am cleared of any moral
turpitude case, UP willingly obliged, after seven long years.
I am going to march with honors tall and proud. I am going to march in behalf of
all the inmates inside the prison cells to say that there is light at the end of the tunnel, that
in God’s time, all will be fine. I am going to accept my gold medal in behalf of all those
wrongfully accused and convicted to say that they should maintain and show their
innocence despite the wretchedness of the situation, for the truth and clear conscience
will eventually prevail. I shall be in the company of the honorable in behalf of all those
who had been victims of prejudice—those judged by the groups they were associated
with, or by the color of their skins, or by their mere incarceration, in order show that there
is dignity in every experience if given the proper perspective. I shall receive my diploma
in behalf of all the sons and daughters who want to make their family and friends proud,
for truly, we do not live for our selves alone. I shall join the empowering occasion to
challenge those who had been too weak to fight for their love in the face of difficulties
and to egg them to be true to themselves for heaven could just be in the horizon.
I shall be onstage to appeal to all fraternity members out there: PLEASE LET US
STOP THE CULTURE OF VIOLENCE for many dreams have been broken, families
shattered and lives lost. We cannot allow another Dennis Venturina, Nino Calinao,
Michael Icasiano, and Dan Deniel Reyes to die again. I know, for I know too well the
difficulty of letting innocent men pay for their deaths.
Thus, I shall march to say thank you to all those who believed in me, in the
pureness of my heart, when the world thought otherwise.
I shall march honorably and move on.
Raymund E. Narag
April 18, 2002