TWO Cebu City barangay captains were acquitted by the court of the crime of carnapping: last Nov. 5, Ramil Ayuman of Apas and last Oct. 10, Ana Tabal of Tigbao.
Much earlier, on Aug. 9, 2017, the Visayas Ombudsman cleared Joel Garganera, former Tejero barangay captain and now city councilor, and 46 other barangay officials of the same charge of carnapping (on top of five other charges).
Barug-PDP Laban has called the dismissal of the cases, including the latest that involves ex-barangay captain Ayuman, instigated by rival BOPK a “triumph of justice.”
Aberration corrected
Maybe, but it was more a correction of an aberration and incongruity. How could those officials ever be guilty of carnapping as defined by the law? The Anti-Carnapping Act of 2016 (Republic Act #10883) defines carnapping as the taking of a motor vehicle belonging to another (a) without the latter’s consent or (b) by means of violence against or intimidation of persons or force upon things.
Delete the second manner of taking and leave the first: the absence of consent. The vehicles, Hyundai H100 shuttle vans, were properly issued to the barangays through their officials by then mayor Mike Rama. Rama lost the 2016 election and could not finish the last few weeks of his term because he was suspended, with Vice Mayor Edgar Labella and 12 councilors, by the office of then president Noynoy Aquino. Councilor Margot Osmeña, wife of Tomas Osmeña who at the time had just beaten Rama, became acting mayor and promptly issued an order for the recall of all the vehicles, purportedly to inventory it.
Margot’s order
The barangay officials publicly complained and appealed to the acting mayor, citing the use of the vehicles for their constituents. Margot was firm and assertive: when they delayed the return, she sued them before the ombudsman and the courts.
Obviously, there was not the kind of taking within the meaning of the law on carnapping. There was “no intent to gain,” not for themselves but for the services they offered to the public, especially in transporting people or goods during emergency.
If some barangay leaders used the Hyundais for their own personal purpose, they should’ve been sued for that, not for carnapping, which sounded ludicrous when announced. The courts and the ombudsman in their rulings did not cite the apparently inappropriate charge but cited valid bases: no undue injury to the city, no malice on the part of the barangay officials, no evidence of carnapping.
‘Ayaw na lang, oy’
Both Osmeñas shrugged off the ombudsman and court decisions: Tomas will accept the rulings. Margot won’t appeal (“Ayaw na lang oy; I won’t spend my time with things like that”).
The couple did make the barangay officials spend their time defending themselves against the charges. But the Osmeñas already achieved what they must have wanted: help disable the barangay captains and communities that voted for their rivals, shame them by depicting the officials as auto thieves, and, more crucial to the ruling party, run the opposition to the ground.
Garganera one time talked of “malicious prosecution” and striking back with a counter-suit. Nothing has come out of the brave words. It’s only the electorate that can sanction the Osmeñas, which from their 2013 experience of loss, would be revenge best served in the ballot. Which the “oppressed” public officials could wish and work for in the 2019 elections but might not get.