WE'D imagined bespectacled Maria Victoria Maglana, or Mags, a singular cord of plaited hair dangling down her right shoulder to below her chest from its roots at the top of her head crowned by a mostly silvered, bobbed hair.
"QUEUE, it is called queue (also spelled “cue”),” Mags readily replied when asked what that signature hairstyle was called which she had been sporting for about 25 years now. She wore it as the enduring OOTD: she wore it when she served porridge at the National PalugaOne. She wore it during the five-day online dialogue platform for leaders and thinkers, “Kusog Mindanao,” a gathering she facilitated shortly after she filed her candidacy.
Maglana is running for the lone seat of the First Congressional District of Davao City in the forthcoming May 2022 general elections. Her candidacy challenges Philippine President Rodrigo Duterte himself by proxy as the incumbent congress representative is Paolo Duterte, the President's first-born son, right in Davao City, their bailiwick, and where Paolo had won a landslide victory in 2019.
District 1 consists of 54 mostly urban barangays, 40 in the Poblacion, the commercial area, and 14 in the Talomo area. It is the most populous of the three congressional districts of the city though it is only second to the hinterland 3rd district for land area. It is also the most vote-rich. Excluding the registrants this year, District 1 voters (389,332) comprise more than a third (39.5 percent) of the city's almost one million voters in the 2019 elections.
It is in District 1's Matina area, at Doña Luisa Village in Matina that Duterte himself resides. The son lives in Skyline subdivision, in the more affluent neighborhood of Catalunan Grande, where January Navares, Paolo's wife, is the barangay chair.
Paradox or irony?
On the eve of the global observance of the 16 Days of Activism Against Gender-based Violence (16DAAGV) in November, we’d imagined whether Mags flipped that hank of head-tail as she talked seriously on the phone, contemplating on the extant conditions of gender inequality in Davao City and the country.
"Is this a paradox or an irony?" she began.
“The Davao local government has achieved several milestones on the issues of women's rights and empowerment,” Mags, the 50-something gender empowerment and peacebuilding advocate, and facilitation expert continued.
She went on to enumerate the legislation passed by the city's Sangguniang Bayan of Davao, like the Gender and Development (GAD) Code of 1997, that mainstreamed gender and development concepts by integrating GAD in all areas of governance, including the anti-harassment and anti-discrimination ordinances.
She named the abominable flip side of this coin. “But the city’s political leadership that had gone to Malacañang is the biggest, loudest, and most abusive voice against women. And not only against women but also against gays; he stereotypes gays.”
In hindsight, it appeared to us to be both paradox and irony; in fact, a ghastly contradiction.
“Dili ma-reconcile (we can’t reconcile) how in the same breath – ” she stopped midsentence. We could sense she was trying to find the words as she fathomed this phenomenon, and then silence hung in the air for a moment, till she found her voice again.
“What this leader said in public pronouncements and his public conduct is an attitude, how (for him) women are viewed as sexual commodities. This stereotyping, this abusive language is not consistent with the quality of local legislation,” she went on.
"It weighs heavy on the mind.”
“Because there is a demonstration effect, in a sense, here. Public officials, hearing him would say that it is all right, pwede ra man diay dili motuman, ma-encourage ang dili sakto (that it is all right to disregard accountability, and encouraged misbehavior),’’ she stressed.
Here lies impunity, and for Maglana people needed to be concerned that "it should be an election issue, that leader's behavior."
5Gs
Maglana was referring to an aspect of "Dutertismo," the authoritarian regime and leadership of President Rodrigo Duterte, whose political bastion was founded in Davao City in Mindanao since the 1980s, soon after the Edsa Revolution. This southern city is 946 aerial kilometers from Metro Manila.
Maglana had engaged in deep-diving scrutiny through occasional op-ed pieces of that particular Duterte brand of misogyny since the days of the hashtag Babae Ko (#BabaeAko) social campaign in 2018. She had called out Duterte’s relentless verbal assault against "bad" women leaders such as Ombudswoman Conchita Carpio-Morales, Senator Leila De Lima, the journalist Maria Ressa, and Vice-president Leonor “Leni” Robredo.
Her perspectives, she said, are shaped not only by feminist insights but also by the more inclusive lens of SOGIE (Sexual Orientation, Gender Identity, and Equality).
These are embedded into Maglana’s 5-point legislative platform, which finds expression in the clever mnemonic, "5Gs/5Ms."
She explained that 5Gs (aside from alluding to advanced cellphone technology) is the counterculture she and her group offer as the alternative to the "3Gs" of Philippine elections: guns, goons, and gold, referring to the culture of violence and vote-buying during elections. The 5Ms is an approximate Bisayan translation of the 5Gs.
Lawyer Romeo Cabarde, himself a SOGIE advocate and Maglana’s campaign coordinator, explained that the 5Gs and 5Ms catchphrase means: Governance (Maligdong nga pangagamhanan), Good quality of life (Maayung kalidad sa kinabuhi), Grassroots-oriented approach to peace and human rights (Malinawon nga katilingban), Glocal solutions to disasters and climate change(Malahutayong pagdepensa sa kinaiyahan), Genuine post-pandemic economic recovery (Matinud-anong pagbangon sa ekonomiya)
Mags foresees the 5Gs/5Ms agenda as an evolving political framework.
"We have to craft this right now as we cannot start a conversation with the people of District 1 without outlining where we stand. We are in a listening mode," she said, adding that she was on her way to meet some senior women in the community.
Among these sages and crones that Maglana leans on to for advice and support is the feisty Patricia Sarenas, a two-term Congress representative for the now-defunct Abanse! Pinay partylist and chair of MinCode, the federated networks of non-government organizations in Mindanao.
"Kami yung mga babaeng may lakas loob. Dili kami ma-terrorize ni Digong (We’re the women who dared. We cannot be terrorized by Duterte)," says Sarenas.
Sarenas said that she has oriented Mags with the responsibilities that fall on legislators' shoulders. She also bolstered Maglana’s stand on major issues such as the anti-terror law, peace in Mindanao, and the SOGIE bill. She believes that Mags must respond to the District 1 constituency's need for livelihood opportunities as well as basic services.
Like Sarenas, Maglana takes an anti-patronage stance on service delivery. Both believe in putting up the systems and mechanisms to make social services be efficiently accessible to the public as a matter of right, without the people feeling beholden to politicians.
Maria Victoria Maglana, or Mags, is determined to offer an authentic "alternative to the Duterte dynastic playbook."
"I am proud of what Mags has done, her willingness to throw herself into the fray despite the toxicity, the atmosphere of hate prevailing in elections. She could stand a chance for she has the qualities of transformative public leadership,” said NGO leader Inday Santiago.
Hair as meaning-bearer
Mags is also known for sporting a singular cord of plaited hair dangling down her right shoulder to her chest which she calls a queue (also spelled “cue”). We imagine her fingers clasping for a moment the knotted tip of that ponytail as she took to a higher stage of courage by running for public office.
Hair has been a meaning-bearer in women’s lives, scholar Rose Weitz writes in “Rapunzel’s Daughters,” a book that surveys the roles of hair and hairstyles in women’s lives through history. A chosen hairstyle reveals how a woman would come of age, defy gender norms, and establish a personal identity.
"I get asked about it a lot. I started growing the queue in 1996 as a reminder of something. Its significance for me has evolved,’’ she said in a chat-message.
"A handy conversation starter (I've had sales personnel comment about it) and "ice-breaker," kids like playing with it.”
"Someone said it is a sign of my attitude of 'calculated irreverence' because while I respect cultures and institutions, I am not beyond stretching borders to the next freedom or stage of the possible."
This stretching of borders includes Maglana's audacious move to get involved in electoral politics. For Mags, it begins with the assertion that her cause is not only a matter of a group push but also a personal decision.
"I have to own it, I must claim my own agency. I was convinced this has to be done. We need to win to put forward an alternative, a better choice, the real voice to the Duterte dynastic playbook. We cannot continue to let a single-family rule over our city for more than 30 years," she said.
Alternative choice
“Now, would she win the elections? Of course, she has to campaign. Funds have to be raised, she must have the -- I would not want to use the term, machinery, because it connotes all that is bad about Philippine elections - - the people, the organization," added Santiago whose expertise is peace building and conflict resolution.
Mags might be seen as an outlier for the constituency of District 1. But, while she seldom includes it in her narratives, she does not come out from the woodwork of activism and development alone. As a daughter, and therefore scion, she shares the bloodline of the fierce nationalist Constancio “Tanciong” Maglana, the first and last congressman of Davao Oriental before Martial law cut short his term.
"She knows her being there will help clean the stables. I am certain that she won't only claim a seat on the table of policymaking but will also be transformative. Mags will turn the tables for good," enthused Santiago.
Other leaders in Mindanao who knew her as the adept facilitator in multi-stakeholders consultations shared the same sentiment.
For Era Espana and Sylvia Okinlay-Paraguya, both Lumad leaders, it is an endeavor they do not want to get involved in, but they are happy someone like Mags has committed to taking the chances. Espana was a former commissioner at the National Commission on Indigenous Peoples while Okinlay-Paraguya is Chief Executive Officer of a national federation of cooperatives.
"If an opportunity comes for us to lead as in Mags’ case, we women must grab it and learn the ropes along the way," says Okinlay-Paraguya though she herself would not want to get involved anymore in electoral processes.
Espana shares the same thought as she detests the compromises one must make and the energies one must expend to win an election. "I would rather be tighusay, the mediator in my community," Espana said.
Women’s political participation
Maglana’s candidacy further shines a light on the latest data showing that the proportion of women in Congress had gone down almost two notches since 2019 to 28 per cent, from a high of 29.8 per cent in 2016 and 2017. This makes the 50:50 ratio between female and male legislators by 2030, as targeted by the Sustainable Development Goals 5, a bleak impossibility.
Scholars of gender equality have pegged 30 percent as the minimum proportion for any minority group to achieve a high degree of influence in a parliament.
On the other hand, the World Economic Forum's Gender Parity Index in 2021 placed the Philippines in 17th place, a slide of eight places from the former 9th place in 2020.
The paradox-irony
A day after the global observance of the 16 Days of Activism Against Gender-based Violence (16DAAGV) in November, Mags joined a webinar on the "Women for Leni" online community.
During the discussion, Mags looped back to where we began the conversation more than two weeks ago. Mags ventured to confront the same paradox-irony that weighed heavily on her mind and on the minds of many feminists for sometime now. This time she has found a resolution to the contradiction.
She said: "Kaya pa rin naman nating makita, na mahiwalay ang civilian bureaucracy sa mga elected officials ng gobyerno, sa mga pulitiko (It seems possible to consider citizens as separate entities from politicians), that is, having a misogynist leader and a gender-aware citizenry and legislations simultaneously."
She explained the paradox by recalling the story of the Integrated Gender Development Division at the Davao City hall. It raises eyebrows but the laws that made Davao the most gender-responsive LGU was crafted not by a single person or party alone but was achieved by, and because of its own engaged and progressive citizenry.
"Naipundar yan dahil sa pangungulit ng maraming women's groups and people's organizations matapos ang mahabang struggle at hanggang sa ngayun, tuloy-tuloy pa rin ang kanilang engagement (The legislation was passed due to pressure from women’s groups and their engagement continues to this day)."
"Kung tatanungin mo sila bakit sila sumusubok kahit sa panahon sa matinding pandemya (if you asked them why they pressed on despite the pandemic) -- and to a certain extent they are effective -- they will tell you it is because they get strength from [their advocacy], because of the vibrant partnership with the women's movement and the community."
We would have wanted to see Mags flip the head-tail or quickly touch her queue’s knotted tip when she reached that eureka moment thus symbolically forming an ouroboros before an onscreen audience of almost 5,000 viewers.
But no, she never did. In fact, the head-tail this time was inconspicuous as it was slung at the back of her head and none of her gestures called attention to it. We must say here was wizard Mags, the pigtailed woman, the facilitator extraordinaire of consensus in communities, foregrounding not herself but the wizardry of the collective voices and action of the citizenry in her native city.
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Editor's note: This story was first published and edited by WWW, Women Writing Women www.womenwritingwomen.com. Lina Sagaral Reyes is a grantee of the Philippine Press Institute 2021 Fellowship on the Coverage of the Pandemic and the Elections, with funding from the Hanns Seidel-Philippines Foundation.