#Halalan2019: And yet, they still voted

By Anjo Bagaoisan

(Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)

At mid-morning of May 13, Election Day, voters at the Ignacio Villamor High School in Pandacan, Manila avoided the open area in the middle rendered white under the sweltering heat.

Instead, they sat or stood in the shade.

But it’s worse once they entered the school building to look for their voting precincts.

Up the stairs, hot humid air blasted at them. The din of conversation and the buzz of activity soon followed as they found a mass of other people packed in one hallway.

(Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)

At both sides, people stood in line, wiping off sweat and fanning themselves with any object they could grab. Others snuck in between them, looking for names in lists taped to the wall.

On any other school day, teenagers could walk, run, or hang out in the hallway without worrying about cramped space. But when the half-dozen classrooms facing each other were turned into halls for the most sacred of citizen’s duties, getting through the hallway made one feel like crossing a battle zone.

(Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)

Worse, some elderly voters were also forced to trudge up the stairs to their regular precincts instead of voting at accessible polling places at the ground floor.

No wonder merely asking how they were ticked some off.

The president’s speech

By Anjo Bagaoisan

No prompter. Pres. Duterte speaking to repatriated OFWs in April 2017. (Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)

President Rodrigo Duterte’s communications team saves on the hardware and setup time for Teleprompters.

That’s because they don’t bring any to the president’s functions, and for good reason.

While remarks are prepared for him, there’s a chance he would not read them. Or if he does, expect the delivery to vary–or rather, veer away–from the original text.

Media covering the president’s speeches find them to be similar to press conferences, even without anyone asking questions. Any topic gets covered. And the headline that comes out might not even be related to the event where the speech was made.

‘Do not destroy my country’

Of course, some topics get mentioned more often than others.

Drugs, President Duterte’s main bane, came first during his remarks at a ceremonial launch of former President Fidel Ramos’s book “Prosper Thy Neighbor” at the Manila Hotel on October 14.

#MartialLaw @46: Finding a story (or two) amid a crowd of colors

By Anjo Bagaoisan

(Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)

You are surrounded by hundreds of people as you enter the road closed off on both lanes and guarded by lines of police on a Friday.

Instead of the honks of vehicles, you hear coordinated shouts and the blare of speakers. The traffic is on foot, seated on the pavement, and set up in kiosks.

It’s both a mobilization, and as the sun sets, the makings of a party.

You’re not alone, and not just as the occupant of the giant space. Scattered in the crowd are journalists like you, all looking for images, characters, and soundbites.

They began earlier, coming from areas like Taft and Mendiola. When ages, colors, and inclinations intersect in one big park, whose stories do you tell?

For TOYM awardees, once-in-lifetime honor is also a responsibility

By Anjo Bagaoisan

Previous TOYM awardees honored at a JCI event. Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan.

Ninoy Aquino, Manny Pangilinan, Sharon Cuneta, and Hidilyn Diaz are in shared company not just for their fame, but along with nearly 500 other Filipinos, have four letters tagged to their names: TOYM.

The Outstanding Young Men (and Women) of the Philippines or TOYM have been recognized by the Junior Chamber International (JCI) or Jaycees since 1959 and the list of honorees reads like a who’s who of any field of interest in the country.

For the first time, previous awardees were gathered and honored at a gala night on Saturday to mark not only the 59th year of the TOYM, but also the 70th anniversary of the Jaycees.

To some of the awardees, the TOYM is both a privilege and responsibility that grows even after they receive the coveted trophy.

Manila Night Prowl #3: Dead dad, no motive

By Anjo Bagaoisan

(Shot by Melchor Platero, ABS-CBN News)

Arnaldo Dela Cruz’s eldest daughter cursed and shrieked when she looked at the dead man lying on the road to her house and recognized him as her father.

She was on her way home at 4 a.m. and passed through the line of twine used to mark out the crime scene. With bystanders and media men watching, she wondered aloud who the body beside a fallen motorcycle was.

When she saw the face, she exclaimed: “P*******, si Tatay!”

Shaking and crying, she walked back, this time around the twine on her way to the other side. The rest of her family was already there. They already knew.

She appealed to the police officers: “Ba’t ayaw niyo itakbo sa ospital, kuya? (Why don’t you bring him to the hospital?)”

No one replied.

(Shot by Melchor Platero, ABS-CBN News)

Gloria, her mother, met her with an opened umbrella. It had begun to drizzle. Even she could not calm her.

The daughter told Gloria: “Ma-re-revive pa yan! Kaysa hayaan niyong nakahiga diyan! (He could be revived instead of letting him lie there)”

“Sino’ng bumaril diyan (Who killed him)?” she said after squatting on a garage ramp.

No one knew the answer.

Manila Night Prowl #2: That escalated quickly

By Anjo Bagaoisan

(Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)

A text message arrived past 1 a.m., August 12. We followed it to Don Carlos Village, a strikingly familiar area in Pasay City. Wasn’t someone killed there the week before? (Yes, there was.)

All we knew then was that two were dead. The rest we had to find out onsite or through the policemen there.

When media workers arrive on such a scene, the body is usually untouched and the story often complete–courtesy of the leader of the police operation.

If you’ve followed these stories for days on end since July, the narrative can become familiar. Drug buy-bust gone wrong. Or killed by unidentified gunmen. Or dead body left wrapped up with a note.

Then there are days when reporters still have to piece together what happened in bits and pieces as the details arrive. And unlike the usual stories, the plot suddenly twists and thickens in an hour or two.

Waiting for Digong

(Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)

DAVAO CITY— The Daniel R. Aguinaldo National High School hardly saw a crowd in its grounds like the one that descended outside Precinct 216 on the afternoon of May 9, election day.

It was like a mob waiting for a rock star. Many of them dressed in red and raising fists and cheers at broadcast cameras, people were jockeying alongside media and police for a view.

Precinct 216, a room labeled Aster (after the flower), was one of 14 clustered voting precincts in the school where 90,000 Davaoeños would vote.

As the noontime heat gave way to afternoon shade, fewer voters came to vote in the precinct. Still, the rush of people who wanted to see the precinct’s most famous voter did not end. The rest of the school gradually emptied, except for the area surrounding the bungalow classroom.

Some had arrived since morning, others after they cast their own votes. They were pointing cell phone cameras at the scene, on themselves, or on familiar faces from the national media, hoping their angle would capture the moment they saw him.

(Shot by Dong Plaza, ABS-CBN News)

The people here were waiting for Rodrigo Duterte, the man they believed would be president. And as the minutes of that fateful day passed, it was not just in Davao.

Everyone across the nation awaited him.

Countdown to the end game in Duterte-land

By Andrew Jonathan S. Bagaoisan

(Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)

DAVAO CITY— In the city of pomelos and durians, it’s business as usual under the scorching sun.

The streets bustle only with the rush-hour jams of vehicles driving under the mandatory 30-kph speed limit. Pedestrians shy away from the elements at high noon, except for the occasional street hawker peddling beads.

If not for the campaign posters that sparsely dot this city, you would hardly notice that it’s election season.

It still qualifies as quiet here, much as it was in the days that led to an election that has elevated Davao City and its most famous resident to national and international prominence.

(Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)

The quiet is also characteristic. This city has gained a reputation as a blueprint for where 16 million Filipinos think the Philippines should be.

But the tranquility masks the mix of anxiety and excitement here, as it did during the countdown to the May 9 vote.

‘Harapan Na!’ A primer to the PiliPinas town hall debate

By Andrew Jonathan S. Bagaoisan

DAGUPAN CITY, PANGASINAN–For one last day, all roads in the 2016 race for Malacañang will converge here.

At a basketball-court-sized covered quadrangle in the center of the Phinma University of Pangasinan, lights, columns, speakers and streamers have risen over the stage that will bring together Jejomar Binay, Miriam Defensor-Santiago, Rodrigo Duterte, Grace Poe and Mar Roxas for a final appeal to voters.

ABS-CBN technicians and set assembly crews were the first at the campus early Thursday, selecting and securing spots for their set-ups in Sunday’s big event.

Students at the U-Pang continued on with their classes, occasionally sneaking glances at the court and casually passing through the piles of equipment as if no hauling was going on.

The venue. (Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)

Still absent are the touches of politics that will pervade this area during the weekend. No colors, posters or supporters.

But the school residents know all eyes will be on their school when all these arrive, more so the objects of all this support.

At a stairway, one student watches snippets of the last Comelec-sponsored debate on his phone. A duo of communication majors go around the school’s food court asking people they could interview their expectations on how the presidential candidates will perform.

Much indeed hangs on the April 24 debate hosted by ABS-CBN and the Manila Bulletin.

#Halalan2016 starts here

By Andrew Jonathan S. Bagaoisan

Live from Comelec Main, Day 1 of COC Filing 
209 days before Halalan 2016

(Shot by Anjo Bagaoisan)

This week officially begins election season in the Philippines. It’s also the general elections–that time every six years where all posts from councilor to president of the republic are up for grabs.

It’s part-celebration, part-chaos, all-challenge.

The best preview of the atmosphere and the stakes is seen here at the Comelec main office in Intramuros, which opened its doors this week to people filing their certificates of candidacy (COCs) for national posts.

Despite efforts to put a sense of order, the road to 2016 still opened with drum bangs, hyped crowds, unruly shooters and comic cameos.