Is domestic violence a private matter?

Why is it that the alleged wife beating of Davao City police director Vicente Danao did not generate as much indignation as the “hipon” joke of Ramon Bautista?

I posed that question on my Facebook status wall. A former classmate of mine commented. He said that the difference between the two is that Bautista’s case happened in public, while Danao’s case is purely a private matter which should be best left for the family to resolve.

Taking that argument to its extreme, it would seem that violence against women is justified as long as it happened inside the house. Indeed, domestic violence, because it is domestic, is often seen as purely a private matter. Thus, cases of wife beatings and other forms of violence against women often go unreported.

But the case of Marivic Genosa, a battered woman herself, made the people realize the obvious－domestic violence may be domestic, but it is violence nevertheless. They started to see domestic violence in a different light. They no longer stopped at the domestic aspect of domestic violence, but now they placed more emphasis on the violence.

Marivic Genosa was convicted of parricide for killing her husband. Her case reached the Supreme Court. There, she argued that she did it only to defend herself. She anchored her defense on “Batttered Woman Syndrome.” The Supreme Court was not altogether convinced.

The Court said, “She is not entitled to complete exoneration because there was no unlawful aggression－no immediate and unexpected attack on her by her batterer-husband at the time she shot him” (People v. Genosa, GR 135981, January 15, 2004).

But because of the unique circumstances of her case, the death penalty imposed on her was reduced. The Court said, “The acute battering she suffered that fatal night in the hands of her batterer-spouse, in spite of the fact that she was eight months pregnant with their child, overwhelmed her and put her in the aforesaid emotional and mental state, which overcame her reason and impelled her to vindicate her life and her unborn child’s.”

In her dissent, however, Justice Consuelo Ynares-Santiago said Marivic Genosa must be acquitted. She said, “The danger posed or created in her mind by the latter's threats using bladed weapons, bred a state of fear, where under the circumstances, the natural response of the battered woman would be to defend herself even at the cost of taking the life of the batterer.” Three more justices, including then Chief Justice Hilario Davide, Jr., joined in her dissenting opinion.

Barely two months after the Supreme Court promulgated the Genosa case, Congress passed R.A. 9262, the Anti-Violence Against Women and Their Children Act (Anti-VAWC) of 2004.

The Anti-VAWC Act made into law the Baterred Woman Syndrome as a defense. Section 26 provides, “Victim-survivors who are found by the courts to be suffering from battered woman syndrome do not incur any criminal and civil liability notwithstanding the absence of any of the elements for justifying circumstances of self-defense under the Revised Penal Code.”

The law repudiates the notion that domestic violence, which is just one form of violence against women, is a private matter. Ample provisions of the law actually allow outsiders to intervene even if the parties involved are spouses, or are in a sexual or dating relationship.

For instance, Section 9 allows, among others, “At least two (2) concerned responsible citizens of the city or municipality where the violence against women and their children occurred and who has personal knowledge of the offense committed” to file a petition for protection order.

Section 25 provides, “Violence against women and their children shall be considered a public offense which may be prosecuted upon the filing of a complaint by any citizen having personal knowledge of the circumstances involving the commission of the crime.”

In Section 30, one of the duties imposed upon the Barangay Officials and Law Enforcers is to “respond immediately to a call for help or request for assistance or protection of the victim by entering the dwelling if necessary whether or not a protection order has been issued and ensure the safety of the victim/s.”

And in Section 34, the law exempts persons intervening from any liability: “In every case of violence against women and their children...any person, private individual or police authority or barangay official who, acting in accordance with law, responds or intervenes without using violence or restraint greater than necessary to ensure the safety of the victim, shall not be liable for any criminal, civil or administrative liability resulting therefrom.”

Despite the passage of the Anti-VAWC Act, however, there are those who still cling to the long discredited idea that domestic violence is a private matter. Indeed, defenders of Danao say that the incident between him and his wife−a video of which wasuploaded on YouTube−was merely “away mag-asawa.” One should not meddle with it. 

That smacks of insensitivity. To dismiss domestic violence as a private matter despite evidence to the contrary deserves more the civilized society’s contempt than Ramon Bautista’s “hipon” joke. As Rowena V. Guanzon argued, “violence against women in the context of intimate relations is a serious human rights violation; it is not a private matter, it is a crime.”

I can't help feeling worried that he who should enforce the Anti-VAWC Law is he who violated it.

My Mother is a Martyr

My mother is the type of person you wouldn't want for a company. She gets impatiently easily. She dislikes waiting for a long time, queuing for a long time, standing for a long time, or walking for a long time. She also cannot stand people who can't get her right and fast. Once we went to a mall to look for a pair of gold-colored shoes she could wear for my grandparents' golden wedding anniversary. My mother asked a saleslady if the store has one that's fit for the occasion. The saleslady asked her back, "What's the motif of the wedding, Ma'am?"

 Mama didn't bother to hide her frustration, so she told the saleslady sarcastically, "Gold, alangan!" as if every golden wedding anniversary's motif must be gold.

Yet as I look back on how she raised our family and how she valiantly mend it when it's almost shattered into pieces three years ago, I realized she isn't so impatient at all. Quite the contrary.

Born and raised in Pantukan, Comval Province, Mama came to Davao City to study for college. She got a government scholarship which enabled her to enroll at the Ateneo de Davao University. She took up BS in Biology. Back then, tuition fee at ADDU was a measly 17.00 per unit. Even so, Mama could barely pay off her boarding house, so she eventually had to stop.

By the time she's out of school, she had already been dating my father. Soon they lived as husband and wife. They cohabited for a few years before they finally got married. That marriage produced four children, seven if you include the three miscarriages Mama suffered. Well, those unborn don't have civil personality, so let's settle for four.

Both my parents were poor, not below-poverty-line poor but everything they had screamed lower middle class. So to help Papa feed the four of us, send us to a decent school, and keep us from degenerating into flat worm-stricken malnourished kids, Mama tried her hand at a number of jobs. She delivered lumber, sand and gravel to construction sites.She put up a karinderya. She peddled cheap detergent soaps like Rinso door-to-door . She sold  native delicacies like suman, puto rice, biko, and kutsinta outside the church. Until now when only our youngest brother has yet to get his college degree, Mama showed no sign of letting up. Today she has a small laundry business that is about to die but still miraculously manages to stay alive.

Perhaps the biggest scourge she had to endure came in 2010. It was my graduation day. Visitors had already left. I don't know how, but she confirmed what she had suspected all along---my father was cheating on her. He has an "other woman," a mistress, a kabit. From then on, the situation only worsened. Their hushed confrontations turned into violent episodes of fistfight, hair-pulling, face-scratching, and head-banging-against-the-wall.

Call her naive, but Mama didn't just watch while the family she helped build crumble. She knew our family was falling apart. So why try to build it one more time? She did try anyway. She did some things people told her not do. She searched for Papa when he left the house. She went so far as to confront face-to-face the woman who seduced Papa. She mixed in Papa's coffee that potion which the quack-doctor whom she consulted gave her.

If I were a Pope, I would canonize my mother at once. If not, I would be the first one to scream "Santo Subito!"

I'm not sure if it was her dogged determination to rebuild our family, or her stubborn love for Papa, or the quack-doctor's potion, but after three years of coming home on-and-off, of promising to never leave again but welshing on that promise, Papa finally came home and never left anymore. Our family was whole again. Mama succeeded.

Then on December 4, 2013, Papa died . Upon his death, the wounds we've been nursing seemed to have been obliterated. Of course, Mama still longs for Papa. Before she didn't know Papa's whereabouts. Now she knows where to go. The chase is over at last.

Mama may not be the most patient mother in the world. She may hate waiting, queuing, standing, or walking for a long time. Yet she knew what all great mothers know---love takes time. No wonder she takes time in washing my clothes, sometimes including my underwear.

Nasarapan ngunit Nakulangan: Our Camiguin Trip

Our Camiguin trip was like a quickie—instantly gratifying. But precisely because it’s so quick and gratifying, one is satisfied yet is left feeling “bitin,” as we put it in our vernacular.

Camiguin is a small island. Despite that, volcanoes are crammed in this island―there are seven active volcanoes in Camiguin. People who have gone there said that since the island is so small you can actually go around the entire island in just a day.

So we set out on a trip to Camiguin for a day. We were a mixed group of eleven, twelve if you include the driver. Most of us used to be colleagues at work. A few were friends of a friend who were just invited the last minute because some backed out. At the end of the trip, however, we all simply became friends who shared the same harried and hurried trip.

We left Davao City on the 23^rd of April at 2:30 in the morning. The plan was to get to Camiguin via Cagayan de Oro, head to Balingoan Port, then take a ferry boat to Benoni Port in Camiguin. It’s a butt-numbing ride that takes us almost twelve hours, including meal and pee stops.

It was around 1:30 in the afternoon when we reached Camiguin. We took a lunch at an eatery near the San Nicolas de Tolentino Church. After our lunch, we immediately headed to the destinations found on our list: Sunken Cemetery, Old Church Ruins, Walkway to the Old Volcano, White Island, and Ardent Hibok-Hibok Spring Resort where we slept overnight.

The next day, we managed to see the San Nicolas de Tolentino Church, Katibawasan Falls, and that unnamed store where you can buy Vjandep Pastel―that soft bun with yema filling for which Camiguin is also known.

We dropped some places on our list. Had we the luxury of time, we could have visited them all. And since we have a very stringent self-imposed goal—to see as much as must-see tourist spots in Camiguin in a short period of time—what we did was mostly to take pictures, pictures, and more pictures. We neither had time for exploration nor education.

At around 9:30 in the morning, we left Camiguin. My feeling was one of ambivalence. I wasn’t sure if I was satisfied or not.

Perhaps that’s what makes Camiguin enticing to tourists even if it has none of the throbbing nightlife of Boracay or the diverse attractions of Palawan. 

Camiguin gives you the feeling of satisfaction of being able to try it, but at the same time leaves a hollow feeling in you that can only be fulfilled by trying it one more time.

Pay Now, Resign Later: The Dilemma of Private School Teachers Applying in Public Schools

It is but normal that newly licensed teachers seek employment first in private schools before moving on to the public school. This is I think a better move because one might gain professional experiences that cannot be had if one were to apply immediately in public schools. Besides, teaching experience is given a certain point in the recruitment of public school teachers.

Private school teachers who apply in public schools sometimes encounter a problem. For instance, the recruitment process in the public school is long in that one has to wait for months before the result is released. So in the meantime they remain teaching in the private school.

But things get complicated when, in the middle of the school year, the teacher gets appointed to a public school and yet he cannot just leave because the employment contract he signed says he shall pay a certain sum of money once he resigns in the middle of the school year.

Is this allowed under the law? If so, what options do you have when faced with such a situation?

Yes, it is allowed under the law. The obligation arising from that contract is called “obligation with a penal clause” (See Art. 1226, New Civil Code). Its principal purpose is to “ensure the performance of an obligation.” In the case of private school teachers who leave for the public schools, the purpose is to ensure that they remain in the school all throughout the school year.

It is understandable why private schools do this. Private schools, especially those that offer basic education, operate by school year, beginning in June until March. If a teacher leaves in the middle of the school year, it will trigger a series of events that, in the end, will hamper the welfare of the students. The Principal will have to look for a substitute teacher. The substitute teacher will have to be trained anew. She will have to adjust to her new workplace. The students, too, need to adjust to their new teacher.

That’s perfectly right when the Principal can immediately look for a replacement. But worse things happen when she cannot. Students will have to wait for a week or two before their substitute teacher arrives. In the meantime, they must endure a few days of doing seat-works facilitated by someone who knows next to nothing about the subject she’s obligated to take over.

Yet if you feel that you urgently have to leave lest your dream of teaching in the public school will be jeopardized, what you may do?

Of course, the most obvious move is to pay forthright the amount. That is if you have the means, but most often than not you don’t

My proposal is you try to talk to your employer. Your contract is not a petrified document whose terms cannot be changed or eased. Talk to your employer. Tell him the situation. Your employer might refuse to let go of you to avoid the hassle of looking for a substitute teacher. Some employers would even present you with a black-and-white option: either you stay or leave but pay.

Persevere. Negotiate some more. For instance, you can ask your employer that you be given enough time to pay and that you will assist her in looking for a substitute. Trust me. There are employers who prefer to be told frankly about their employee’s plans than to be kept in the dark.

No one has the right to force us to stay in a workplace we don’t want anymore. Employers cannot even prevent their employees from resigning. But let’s remember, “Every person must, in the exercise of his rights and in the performance of his duties, act with justice, give everyone his due, and observe honesty and good faith.”

A Eulogy for the Original "Onyot"

Below is the eulogy I gave at Papa's necrological service. RIP, Antonio "Onyot" C. Ortiz, 1961-2013.

Perhaps the last three years had been the darkest episode of Papa’s life. In April of 2010, on the day of my college graduation, Mama found out that Papa had been cheating on her. Yes, he gave in to temptation. He left our family to live with another woman. He found himself so drowned in debts. Friends and relatives condemned him.

I was so devastated there was even a time I wished that he were dead, so that all the pain that he caused would be undone.

But I continue to ask from God the serenity to accept the things I cannot change and courage to change the things I can.

We did everything we could to win Papa back. But after several failed attempts at convincing Papa to abandon the sinful life that he had fallen into, I told Mama that we should let him go.

Yet something was bothering me. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing Papa just like that. No matter what we all went through, in the end, he is still my father.

So I mustered enough courage and talked to my father. I told him all the things I wanted to tell him. I asked him all the questions I wanted to ask him. Why did he leave us? When is he coming home? I confronted him. I told him my plans. I told him that I longed for the day that he and Mama would be there when I’ll become a lawyer.

When our conversation was over, Papa hugged and kissed me. He never said sorry. But I knew that he was. And he promised that he would go home.

Papa fulfilled his promise. He did finally come home. At the time, there was still fear in Mama’s heart. What if he would leave us again?

But today Mama is not afraid anymore—Papa is home for good. On December 4, 2013, thirteen days before his birthday and twenty-one days before Christmas, Papa died. But I would like to think he just went ahead of us.

There is still sadness in our hearts. And I’ll probably cry whenever I remember Papa, who used to annoy me when he kept on asking the same questions over and over again; who used to make me laugh when he told me his jokes which he told a number of times.

To the people who stood by Papa through his ups and downs, thank you for not easily condemning him. Thank you for seeing the goodness in him. I still would like to think that Papa had been a good father, a good son, a good friend, a good brother, and a good son of God.

Pa, I promise I'll take good care of Mama. And I promise I'll be a lawyer by 2016, but I'm sorry if I cannot make it on time. I know you can wait a year or two.

Goodbye, Pa.

What law students may do this summer?

Law students—the really serious ones—are such a stressed lot. They study hard. They lack sleep. They are poked and pressured everywhere by everyone: professors surprise them by giving surprise recitations; friends keep on inviting them for a drinking spree; bosses keep on asking for that assignment way before the deadline.

But summer is here. It’s time to drop that thick, hard-bound, incomprehensible law book. And if you’re a law student, you may want to do these things this summer:

1. CATCH UP SOME SLEEP. Scientists say that an adult brain needs at least six hours of sleep. But you only get to sleep for an average of four to five hours a day. It’s ironic because your brain is supposed to function well all the time, and yet the lack of sleep precisely disables your brain from functioning well. If you have nothing else to do this summer, you might as well get a six or eight hours of sleep.

2. JOIN AN INTERNSHIP PROGRAM. Supplement your classroom experiences with real-world experiences by joining an internship program. Some organizations enlist law students as interns in which they are given tasks where their legal education is of great help. Last year, the Alternative Law Groups conducted a month-long internship program. This year, the Asia Foundation is inviting law students to participate in its Hustisyeah! Program, a case decongestion initiative whose aim is to, well, decongest the congested court dockets.

3. ENROLL IN A COURSE NOT RELATED TO LAW. They say working on something you’re not familiar with enhances your creativity. I don’t know how that works. But if there’s no harm in trying, why not enroll in, say, a two-month culinary course?

4. READ YOUR UNREAD CLASS MATERIALS. I know, you’re supposed to enjoy your summer time. So how can you enjoy if you read your class materials? You cannot. But if you derive joy from learning, you actually can. And summer is the best time to catch up on your readings because there’s no pressure. When you read either the textbook or the cases minus the pressure, haven’t you noticed that you retain more information; you learn better?

5. TAKE SUMMER CLASSES. But if you don’t want to break your momentum, enroll in a subject or two. It’s true that a long summer break can make the students sink into sloth. So by the time they go back to school, they need to find again their rhythm, which takes some time. And for busy law students, they cannot afford to waste their time finding their rhythm.

These are just suggestions. Hence, the use of the word “may.” In Statutory Construction, the use of the word “may” denotes discretion, and cannot be construed as having mandatory effect. If you have a better idea, go for it. Share it with others.

To Philippines, My Manita

Every morning during weekdays, grade school and high school students from both public and private schools are made to recite the Panunumpa sa Watawat ng Pilipinas. After that, the recitation of the Panatang Makabayan followed:

Iniibig ko ang Pilipinas

Aking lupang sinilangan,

Tahanan ng aking lahi;

Kinukopkop ako at tinutulungang

Maging malakas, masipag at marangal.

Dahil mahal ko ang Pilipinas,

Diringgin ko ang payo

Ng aking magulang;

Susundin ko ang tuntunin ng paaralan,

Tutuparin ko ang tungkulin

Ng isang mamamayang makabayan;

Naglilingkod, nag-aaral at nagdarasal

Nang buong katapatan.

Iaalay ko ang aking buhay,

Pangarap, pagsisikap

Sa bansang Pilipinas.

So tedious is this morning ritual that students hate to come early in the morning. They’d rather come late than profess their love and allegiance for the Philippines. As a result, they never take both oaths seriously. So once they get out of school, they cast them into oblivion.

Perhaps one reason why our country always ends up being screwed by us is that we forget how to reciprocate our love for our Motherland. But how exactly do we do give the love back? 

The Panata we take for granted provides us a simple guide: “Dahil mahal ko ang Pilipinas,/ Diringgin ko ang payo/ Ng aking magulang;/ Susundin ko ang tuntunin ng paaralan,/ Tutuparin ko ang tungkulin/ Ng isang mamamayang makabayan.”

Maybe if we were just reminded from time to time of our obligation to the country as expressed in the Panatang Makabayan, there would be no Fertilizer Scam, ZTE-NBN Deal, Hello Garci, PDAF-DAP, or Corona Impeachment to speak of. Maybe our country would not be mired in petty political bickering and suffer from short-sighted, partisan, and knee-jerk policies.

This #GLOBEProjectWonderful2014 got me thinking what gift would I give the Philippines if I were to have a Kris Kringle with it.

If the Philippines were my manita, I would give her decals, bumper stickers, and bar pins. On these items are printed these words below taken from the Panatang Makabayan:

“Dahil mahal ko ang Pilipinas, diringgin ko ang payo ng aking magulang.”

“Dahil mahal ko ang Pilipinas, susundin ko ang tuntunin ng paaralan.”

“Dahil mahal ko ang Pilipinas, tutuparin ko ang tungkulin ng isang mamamayang makabayan.”

Those will be distributed to schools, Public Utility Bus and Jeepneys, public spaces such as parks, malls, waiting sheds, and have those posted in any conspicuous place.

The effect may not be seen a day or a week after, but remember our parent’s reminders when we were young?

“Don’t drink.” “Don’t smoke.” “Do study your lessons.” “Do good to others.”

Don’t they stick with us? Are they not inculcated in our minds now?

If there is one thing you can give to the Philippines, what is that gift?