Friday, June 08, 2007 Maxey: Someday will never come By Ram Maxey Bar None
IT WAS his first day in school. When he was still a pre-schooler, the boy, Joemarie Manala, had often wondered what school was like. All he knew about school at the time were the stories his older sister brought home after school. He envied her knowledge of reading and writing, knowing that in time he, too, would follow in her footsteps. He would be able to unravel the mysteries of reading, writing and arithmetic. Someday. Yes, someday.
That first day in school was unlike anything he had imagined. Some of his classmates were neighbors his age while the others were total strangers. But he noticed they all had one thing in common: None of them could read or write. That was fine with him, at least they were equal. He did not feel inferior to them since they all had to start from scratch.
His Grade I teacher, Leny Alas, did recall later that the shy kid was well-behaved and attentive.
Back home, the boy's mother, Godofreda, had been washing clothes the better part of the day and hadn't noticed that classes were about to be dismissed that afternoon. She had promised to fetch her son. But Joemarie must have been so over-eager to come home for he had many things to tell his mother about his first day in school. In fact his mother herself had been wondering how Joemarie had fared on this his first school-day.
The Barangay Lacson Elementary School in Calinan, Davao City, is about 1.5 kilometers from Joemarie's home along the Davao-Bukidnon highway. When the pupils were dismissed late that afternoon, Joemarie could not wait for his mother to show up and decided to go home along with his classmates and not bothering to tell his sister about his plan. His first day in school was an adventure he could hardly wait to share with his mother.
***
The news on TV was full of the usual stuff one often sees on television -- vignettes of Pinoy society caught by the TV camera's eye. But there was one particular scene that kept returning to my sub-conscious, even far into the night and the next day and the next. It was a roadside scene showing a mother coddling the lifeless body of her son who had been run over by an Elf cargo truck only moments ago.
The grieving mother was crying her heart out while shocked bystanders watched in silence. Even as I write this that roadside scene has returned to haunt me, super-imposing itself on the computer screen.
For the image is that of a wailing Godofreda Manala, coddling her son, Joemarie -- dead on this, his first day in school. His "someday" will never come. Why? I ask myself. There is no answer. Only unfathomable silence.
