We played sungka together when we were kids, my cousin and I. He is paraplegic and walked always with his wooden braces. He loves to challenge me with playing sungka and he never won. This had made him all the more wanting to play sungka so that he can beat me. We had fun that summer. I guess we jived together, him - a disabled boy and me - an insecure adolescent. But we jived and we tell each other stories about life and values. Nobody among our cousins want to talk to any of us. That had made us friends.

When I reminisce those times, I look back and smile. We still talk to each other and exchange SMS. We see each other once in a while. We remained friends. He had remained a friend despite his status quo> My cousin is now a prominent political figure.

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Feliza and Ivy were talking about doing business online. Feliza suggested to try Ashop, an ecommerce software. It is also the same as a shopping cart software, she told Ivy, where she could create an online store with minimum monthly investment. Ivy got excited and told Feliza that she would want to sell her hand painted linens online.

Feliza encouraged her more about Ashop that has many features to explore. She even told her that a lot of people had been doing business thru Ashop and it even offers a ten-day trial.

Ivy was so amazed to even learn that Feliza had already built an online store and has been doing well for six months now. She had learned that she can do purchase of products at Ashop, and that she can have inventory control, layouts and designs and payment options when she set up for her account.

The two friends lost contact after a few years. Tell me why.

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His mother left him to work abroad when he was still young. It was his aunt who had took care of him like a child. His father was just a symbol. He never did anything for him except to bring him to school then back home during the elementary years. Now, he had graduated from high school and he had plans for his life that does not include his father.

His aunt asked him once why he treats his father with disrespect. It’s plain and simple he said. His father did not act like one. He had never spent so much for his upbringing. He had witnessed how he spends his mother’s earnings abroad. He never saw him long for his mother.

He admitted that he had lost respect totally when he learned that he had another woman who he frequents. He knows where this woman lives when one day he followed him from work.

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(My apologies to everybody. I’ve been caught in my busy world and never had time to update. Here is my story for today…)

I saw this little boy in the neighborhood one day. He was playing and I called him. He reluctantly approached me. I hugged him and asked how’s he been doing. He said, “Ok lang (I’m OK).” I asked him again while he tried to unclamp from my embrace, “I was told you quit school. Why?” (The little boy is only 5 years old.) He answered me, “It was what Mommy wants.” (This is not true, of course, because his dad told hubby that the little boy suddenly wanted to stop. Hubby was opposed to the idea.) “When do you plan to go back to school?” I prodded. “‘Pag me kotse na kami (When we have a car already).” (The men in the neighborhood guffawed and one of them shouted, “You will grow to be uneducated!”)

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She was one of the many pretty, innocent, young girls in a remote place of a province in this ill-fated nation. She was one of those who imagine coming to Manila, the most popular dream destination of little girls like her. The stories about this place make little girls like her desire to visit, stay and make their fortune in it. The stories even haunt their dreams that become frequent as days go by. The stories make the place called Manila a fantasy land or a magic place where everything could be possible.

So it was the stories that forced her to work the possibility of leaving her home and come to Manila. She searched for the lady who was allegedly been giving little girls the opportunity to work in Manila and earn lots of money. After a few weeks, she was already talking to the lady who had promised her almost the nicest things she dreamed of.

Off they went to Manila with several other girls her age. They were instructed to put a little make up so that they would look older than their age. The lady told them the jobs that they will be referred to need girls aged eighteen and above. All of them are underage.

It was a long journey but for her it did not matter at all. Her focus was on her dream of coming to Manila, the place full of bright lights and bright promises and future. After almost two days, they reached their destination. All of the girls, including her, were amazed to discover that the talk about the bright lights is true. It was almost midnight when they reached their destination but there are still many bright lights and people come and go as if they do not rest and sleep.

They were led to a room on the second floor. The lady left them there and locked the door.

She is among the many beautiful, delicate roses in a jungle called Manila, wilted and wasted away by her false hope and dreams. She is a rose in Manila, desired because of the beauty, lusted because of her innocence, and craved for because of her youth. 

Posted by narissa | 4 Comments »