I do not claim to know former president Noynoy Aquino very well. He was a family friend, the son of my mom’s boss, and a quiet, reserved presence to have around. He was always there in the periphery, from my college years up to when he rose to prominence some 30 odd years later.
He was never one to call attention to himself.
He didn’t stride into a room and command attention or stares. Truth be told he liked hanging out with his mom’s security detail more. I used to tell people he was actually really shy, something most people found hard to believe.
And while others found him detached and unfeeling, in truth he was actually more sensitive and cared more deeply than he should have. He was just so good at hiding it. All these years I would see him sporadically. Some meetings would be brief, others protracted and never really with me directly, but what he did during those times has stayed with me.
To me it showed his true nature. It’s the small things I think that matter… the little gestures that we think no one sees or notices… from a man who blushed and bowed his head every time someone said thank you or praised him for any reason.
My mom, Deedee (Siytangco), was his mom’s spokesperson for awhile, and friends for longer. Thus my encounters with him, though brief, were in various contexts. I’ve seen Noy the son… the friend… brother …President and ex-President.
While my mom served in government, my father suffered a TIA (Transient Ischemic Attack—it’s like a stroke but you don’t lose consciousness and don’t remember a certain period. He lost about 12 hours.). He recovered in time but being away from mom was inconceivable to him , so most days he stayed in the anteroom of her office, not seeing anyone, just content to have her close by. Noy knew this and would drop by from time to time to look in on my dad.
In time he learned that my dad liked certain kinds of music and loved nuts. Noy, by nature, was not an extravagant personality…he was a simple man…the best kind. He would bring my dad cracker nuts from a market near his place … no frills… no fuss. A kilo of these in a translucent plastic bag wrapped in another brown paper bag and handed over shyly in person. I remember those times clearly, even more so now because it always made my dad smile. Thank you, Noy, for that.
His thoughtfulness shone through those CDs. He made sure to include my dad’s favorite songs, my parents’ theme song
Noy loved music and indulged in it through his massive CD collection. He once told me that listening to music before going to work in the morning, when he was President, helped him face the day ahead, and relaxed him when he got back home. He surprised my parents with a collection of CDs he had compiled and curated for them, filled with music from their generation, and others which he liked. He didn’t make one CD, or two or three, he made seven. His thoughtfulness shone through those CDs. He made sure to include my dad’s favorite songs, my parents’ theme song and some golden oldies that he himself liked.
He would always oblige the media ladies of Bulong Pulungan and attend their Christmas parties when he was President…always—even if he knew the proverbial first question during the party would be about his love life. Though I am sure it must have irked him, secretly I think he was more amused by the inordinate interest those media Titas of Manila had in his dating life.
I helped out in the Bulong Pulungan Christmas parties and often times it was my job to make sure the hotel had a holding room for him and that the room had Coke (regular) and water. Nothing else. That was all. We never had a diva on our hands. Just a simple guy who arrived on time.
One time, about six months into his presidency, the group’s convenors and the hotel bigwigs, including the expat GM, were waiting in the hotel driveway for Noy’s convoy to arrive. The President’s Mercedes pulled up and the GM went to the passenger door to greet him. To his surprise, Noy stepped out of the front seat and strode up the driveway. He still liked riding shotgun beside the driver. His security had yet to convince him to stay in the back seat.
One Bulong Pulungan Christmas event, as I went to pick him up from the holding room, he leaned over and whispered to me, “Kailangan bang mag suot din ako ng ganyan? (Do I have to wear that myself?)”— glancing at the reindeer antlers I had on my head.
I looked up to see a conspiratorial grin on his face, not presidential or formal at all, but full of humor.
“Hindi po,” I said, trying not to burst into laughter. He heaved a sincere sigh of relief and looked like he wanted to laugh along with me—“Ninerbyos ako… lahat kasi kayo may ganyan (I got nervous coz all of you are wearing one),” referring to the other media titas of Manila with Santa hats and other Christmas ornaments on their heads.
I teased him, “Sir, meron po akong extra kung gusto ninyo (Sir, I have extra in case you want one).”
He asked me to keep it in case the ladies did require him to get Christmassy and wear one. Then we both burst out laughing. Not at all your presidential conversation, but entirely human and funny.
In those events, I was also the de facto photographer for the media ladies. From behind the podium onstage, he would smile for me. He would always look in my direction and with a slight nod of the head, smile. Click click… I got my shot and he would look away and go about his speech. He understood, and would often chide me, “Napag-utusan ka na naman! (They gave you an order as usual.)”
When my dad passed away, Noy went to the wake almost every day, just like his mom did. Some days he would come on his own, like a quiet member of the family. He would stay at the back of the hall, deep in thought. We didn’t engage in any deep, emotional conversation. He would just nod as he looked back at me as if to say, I know how you feel… it will be ok.
He’d remember the person and his/her question the next time he’d meet them and give them the answer
During some private media dinners, away from the cameras he would get asked about certain issues. The poor guy couldn’t even get through dinner without having to face a grilling. He always obliged with an answer, a detailed explanation if he knew, or a “pinag-aaralan pa natin yan (we’re still studying that),” if he truly couldn’t answer the question. His candor was refreshing, as most politicians would never admit not knowing the answer. True to form, he would remember the person and his/her question the next time he would meet them and without any prodding give them the answer. Very few people know that he liked to go through documents with a fine-toothed comb. He was never one for glib answers and off-the-cuff decisions. And yet he was called “mabagal (slow)” for this.
A day before he was proclaimed winner of the 2010 presidential elections, mom and I were with him in his Times St. home. We greeted him as Mr President as we walked in. “Naku huwag naman… ang aga. Bukas pa yan official (Don’t. Too early for that. That becomes official tomorrow.),” he told us in jest as we sat down in his living room. With the inevitability of the presidential landscape ahead, we chatted about the things that he would miss, like going to his favorite music haunts to pick up CDs, going to the salon by himself to get a haircut, driving himself around. He repeatedly told us a few times, “Ganyan talaga…pero six years lang naman. Trabaho lang … tapos normal na ulit.”
Even before he was handed the reins of power, this man was already thinking of letting them go…willingly. Throughout his presidency, the running joke when he would see us would be—”Mrs Sec… 1,120 days na lang…” as he kept a running tally of how much longer he still had in office. Power-hungry he certainly was not.
The Noy I knew was a simple man, generous, low-key, thoughtful and thorough. He rolled with the punches and never argued or fought back when they called him names and proclaimed him a failure. He was dedicated to his work, too much at times with no more room for a personal life. He was devoted to his mom and his sisters, and to the heavy mantle he chose to take on and the people he vowed to serve.
In more ways than one, I honestly think we didn’t deserve such a decent, devoted and an incorruptible leader like him. But I am just so glad he always thought we deserved the best he could give us.
After over 30 years of having known you, good night Noy! Godspeed Sir!
Aquino at dinner with media when he couldn’t get through the meal because he had to answer questions (Photo from Sandee Masigan)
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