Wanted in Maguindanao: Hassle-less elections

By Andrew Jonathan S. Bagaoisan

2013 campaign posters in Buluan (Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)

BULUAN, MAGUINDANAO–The rural air is occasionally broken by blaring music. It’s different from the familiar amplified chants calling Muslims to prayer five times a day. The sources of the music: roving rented mini-pickups packed with speakers and dressed in campaign posters.

One vehicle plays a down-tempo, pop tune repeating the nickname of a provincial candidate as a chorus. Another passes by moments later, blasting a rap-style song in Maguindanaoan extolling the virtues of another candidate.

It’s my second election coverage here in Maguindanao. With me are the same reporter, a few same crew mates, and some newbies to this election hotspot. Some elements have changed in three years, the sound of campaign jingles one pleasant surprise.

Our set up at the Maguindanao provincial satellite office in Buluan (Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)

Our haunts have changed too, mirroring the changes in local politics. Since we arrived, we’ve set up our live point outside the Rajah Buayan Silongan Peace Center here in Buluan–the de facto capitol building which was not around in 2010.

Last election, we were stationed outside the provincial complex in capital Shariff Aguak. The capitol there is still imposing but unoccupied. The compound’s sole tenants are a brigade of soldiers.

We merely pass by Shariff Aguak on our two-to-three-hour trips from Cotabato City. The standout mansions of the Ampatuans still loom near the capitol, yet even this bailiwick of the clan seems less hushed than it looked before. More residents roam the town center, and the campaign posters are more varied.

#CJonTrial: Last full show at the Senate

By Andrew Jonathan S. Bagaoisan

(Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)

The excitement over Day 44 of the trial deciding the fate of Chief Justice Renato Corona, as expected, spilled way past the Senate grounds.

Outside the gate, the long line of prospective watchers was up for a final effort. As before, only 40 green passes to the Session Hall would be given out.

And no ticket more, this last full show already full. Not even for actor Pen Medina, who showed up with a “Convict Corona” shirt. He took it off to comply with regulations, yet still missed the cut.

Farther off at the Senate security checkpoint beside the Manila Film Center, three news vans were parked near a barricade and a throng of anti-riot police.

This spot was the closest any groups wanting to amass in protest or support could get to the Senate.

Close to noon, nearly 50 members of a health workers’ group arrived with “Guilty!” signs. They brought out effigies of Corona, his benefactor Gloria Arroyo, and of President Aquino.

They wanted a Corona conviction, but hoped the alternative was not a Supreme Court controlled by the President. They left after 30 minutes.

(Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)

A group of the same number, this time from Akbayan, a party allied with Aquino, later came with yellow placards that all repeated “Convict” and “Guilty”.

Unlike before, only one side came out that day. Many of those praying for an acquittal for Corona remained at the Supreme Court to watch the Senate verdict via an LCD projector.

The Akbayan assembly stayed on to monitor the votes cast by the 23 senator-judges through a radio piped into their mobile speakers.

ABS-CBN’s cameras were trained on both spots for live reactions to the moment of decision.

At ABS’s Senate OB van control, it was business as usual, yet spiced with the excitement of a final sprint.

The crews manning the facilities that broadcast the trial sessions and live reports for Channel 2, ANC, and DZMM had been at it since January. And except for infrequent session lulls, their work routines for four months have been 6 a.m. to 9 p.m., all to and from the Senate.

Balik-gisaan sa FOCAP

Ngayon lang ulit humarap ang isang nakaupong Pangulo ng Pilipinas sa grupo ng mga peryodistang bahagi ng mga dayuhang pahayagan.

Limang taon na kasing hindi pinagbigyan ang taunan palang ginagawa ng mga naunang Presidente mula kay Ferdinand Marcos–ang makipagbalitaktakan sa Foreign Correspondents Association of the Philippines o FOCAP.

Kaya ang inabangan: Ano kaya ang itatanong nila at ano kaya ang isasagot niya.

“No holds barred” daw kasi ito. Kahit ano, pwedeng ibato. Gisaan, ika nga ng malanding salitang pang-headline.

Para rin kasing humarap sa mundo ang Pangulo sa pakikipagtapatan niya sa mga correspondent ng mga organisasyon gaya ng Reuters, NHK ng Japan, at Agence France-Presse.

Iba nga lang ang mga isyu sa Pilipinas na mahalaga para sa mga bayang magbabasa ng kanilang mga isinusulat.

Mina’s mixed signals

(Shot by Jeffrey Agustin, ABS-CBN News Isabela)

TUGUEGARAO CITY, CAGAYAN–When you set out to welcome a storm, it either shows up elsewhere or merely sneaks a peek.

That’s a running joke among our field teams. When the wrath of storms do tread (Milenyo, Ondoy, Pepeng, and so on), they’ve often met no welcoming committee.

Still, it has always been better to be there and prepared than scooped and sorry.

The instinct for anticipation, prized all too well in coverage, thus extends to the unpredictable arena of rains and tempests.

Riding two pickups and a truck, we drove north for eight hours to meet Mina, the first storm weeks after a succession of others pummeled southern Luzon.

It’s a welcome break from weeks of covering a dengue outbreak and Senate hearings galore.

We would work with our regional news teams in Isabela. On the road, I asked TV Patrol Cagayan Valley anchor Darlene Gemino how things were.

“Parang ‘ala naman bagyo (It seems like there’s no typhoon),” she texted. “No rains, normal lang situation dito.”

(Shot by Joni Teneza, ABS-CBN News Isabela)

All the way to Ilagan City, the winds blew strongly here and gently there. No sight of rain at first, and then it drizzled as we neared.

Manila called when we arrived. “It doesn’t look like a signal number 2,” I told our news desk head.

“Really?” she said. “But PAGASA says it’s already signal number 3 there.”

Deploying teams to cover nature’s fury is entirely played by ear, unlike for events shaped by people.

In flood-hit Cotabato, life goes on

(Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)

COTABATO CITY–The music of Mindanao clashed with the local natsots and soundbites we were sending to Manila.

It was a mix of the pounding drum and the penetrating kulintang. A group of boys played the beat and danced to it, inches from our satellite setup outside an events center.

They wore native garb of glossy greens over their t-shirts, shorts, and slippers.

Two boys twirled around as they brandished wooden castanets. Two others put on costumes resembling clothed medieval horses, which they bucked up and down like the lions on Chinese New Year, only smaller.

They call these “unta,” translated as horses and as good luck.

The guests arrived as the boys rehearsed for their grand entrance. Many wore smart casual clothes. A number, mostly the older ones, put on their brightest dresses and head scarfs.

Outside, a row of pleated banners striped red, yellow, and green lined the road leading inside. It’s the same color on the frills worn by the dancers and the mascots.

The colors signal a wedding, already the second this day and one of many in the city in this month of nuptials.

(Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)

We already arrived here on its third week of flooding. Unrelenting rains and a clogged river had inundated 33 of the city’s 37 barangays. Neighboring town Sultan Kudarat had it worse.

The images we transmitted that night bared the effects: the influx of evacuees, the flooded city center, and the soup kitchens put up by the local ABS-CBN station.

Yet like the entourage of the bride and groom ready to march, the stream of life could not be stopped by rising waters.

PNoy meets UP

Long lines, bag checks, and selective admittance. Dozens of sentries in white polo barongs. The occasional chopper overhead. And at conspicuous areas, broadcast vans and a media platform.

It’s a rare prelude to any commencement rite. I hadn’t seen this much fuss when I went through this ceremony.

But this was no ordinary college graduation, in no ordinary college, and with no ordinary visitor.

President Benigno Aquino III was speaking to the University of the Philippines Diliman’s class of 2011.

It would be the first in 12 years. He would also receive an honorary Doctor of Laws from UP–the 13th after Fidel Ramos.

Our cameraman shooting from a reverse angle of the seats. (Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)

The potential conflict also made it worth checking out.

After all, a number of the university’s students and professors have not hidden their impatience at the Aquino administration’s delivery of campaign promises.

And wasn’t UP’s budget for 2011 one of the worst cut?

Protests would surely mark the ceremonies.

If you’re a President beginning to feel the heat of criticism and opposition, how do you approach a university known as a hotbed of dissent against sitting leaders?

In Bilibid, BF: A wait ends, a wait goes on

Part 2 of “Awaiting freedom, awaiting justice.” Read it here.

(Shot by Thomas Carpio, ABS-CBN News)

Two layers of jail bars separate the detainees of Bilibid from the outside world. This basement entrance marks the boundary between the facade of the Bureau of Corrections and the sprawling prison compound.

There, Sir Jorge and four of our cameramen waited for any stir. From the lull, he reported live for ANC. We had our cameraman pan around for live shots. My MacBook recorded the feed, for later use and should anything happen.

A few minutes into the report, the camera caught an orange-shirted Hubert Webb enter the holding area.

Sir Shadow directed, while I was on the phone to our ANC coordinator Mnemo. “Tell Sir Jorge to keep talking!” she shouted. The people at the ANC control room were squealing at Webb’s first ever shots in years.

(Shot by Thomas Carpio, ABS-CBN News)

As before, so today. ANC had first dibs on the first verdict, and it had come full circle in this decisive one.

As the other convicts exited the same gate, we were asking each other who each person was. First time I heard of the other characters in this high-profile case.

August to August: A first year of firsts

The yellow flowers kept coming.

August 1, 2010 was no ordinary Sunday. For one, duty called. Work that day also reminded me how pregnant with remembrance it was.

A year ago was my first day as a professional. That August 1 too, marked the first post to my WordPress blog. And that August 1 was the day that changed the course of this country’s history.

It began with Tita Cory.

The nation was in vigil for her as I was applying for a job. When I got in, they told us we would start on August 1 or when death claimed the former President, whichever came first.

Both came on the same day and became the topic of that hastily written first entry.

I was assigned this August 1 to Manila Memorial Park, where Tita Cory lay.

Much has happened since that historic wake and funeral: a set of fierce typhoons; a campaign and election of firsts and surprises; and to top it all, the rise to power of a President who would not have been there had that August 1 not happened.

This blog recorded it all.

On the tube: Fury of the elements

Overwhelming on the ground and breathtaking from the sky.

Expect that view when nature comes blazing, crashing, and flooding. And expect it captured on television.

After the storm of politicians, the days between President Aquino’s inauguration and his State of the Nation Address lent themselves to a flurry of other tempests.

They piled upon each other, a mix of man-made and natural, involving great doses of water and the disco-sounding trio of earth, wind, and fire.

* * * * *

First it was typhoon Basyang (International name Conson). I was at the PAGASA center the night it hit, listening to worsening predictions of its path.

Teams were deployed to south and central Luzon, the office wary of storms after the wrath of Ondoy and Pepeng. (Read: In the eye of 2 storms)

Yet from the looks of it, the weather bureau was assuring all that the “Lola” would wreak minimal damage to Metro Manila.

And then the lights went out.

Minor in rain, Basyang majored in wind. It felled trees, electric posts, and anything thin and tall. Plus this giant crane at Paranaque that became a metaphor for the day-long toll of power, mobility, and the Filipinos’ capacity to cope.

Niko Baua’s team reached it first early morning and stayed till evening.

Anatomy of a web story

Online news has become the 21st-century wire service.

It can take on the speed and succinctness of radio, the depth and length of printed news, the impact and vividness of television, and combine it with the connectivity and interactivity of the Internet.

For their growing accessibility and potential as cash cows, news websites are increasingly becoming an output of “integrated” newsrooms known for traditional media.

ABS-CBN’s TV reporters are encouraged to think and work multi-platform. That means aside from Tagalog pieces for Channel 2′s TV Patrol, they file English reports for ANC and ABS-CBNnews.com, one of the Philippines’ first news sites.

The advisories reporters send to the news desk are incorporated to the website’s breaking stories. Or if they come out with fairly-written English pieces, they land full on the site.

When requirements on the field allowed, I’ve tried contributing too.

Often they are pictures taken with my Nokia 6730, like Noli De Castro’s last Araw ng Kagitingan in Bataan, the bombing of a judge’s car in Rizal, the search for bodies lost in a flooded abandoned building in Manila, and these 2:

On assignment in Lanao del Sur, I sent in my first News.com story. (Read the backstory here.)

A virtually humdrum traffic assignment at the Mendiola bridge on June 24 turned out another.