“Is that the school generator I hear?”
“Yes, sir. They’ve been gunning that thing on and off for the last half hour before you arrived,” Miss Pinky Maglia Rosa answered me.
“Why? Is there a brownout? I hadn’t noticed on my way driving over here,” I said.
“No, sir, there IS current. The regular lights are lit all along the hallway. If there’s a brownout, it’s usually those battery-powered emergency lamps that are lit.”
Just then another student rushed into the room, catching his breath. It was Mr. Abraham Mabagsik—whom I had christened “Shaq”—because of his imposing physique. He looked like Godzilla with a shave.
“What’s the rush there, Shaq? Where’s the fire??” I asked.
“I’m sorry, I’m late, sir. I ran up five flights of stairs cause I saw you walk into the building already. I was hanging out downstairs a little bit watching the building maintenance people tinkering around with the generator. I got curious.” Shaq answered.
“Well, that makes two of us,” I said, “Evidently there’s no brownout, so why are those maintenance people running the genset?”
“They’re not running it, sir. They said they were just letting the motor rotate the moving parts for a little bit because it seems the rains have come early. They’re anticipating brownouts might start happening soon so they want to make sure the generator will work the next time they crank it,” Shaq reported between breaths.
“Do they really have to do that NOW? Who can give a lecture with this much noise in the background??” I groaned.
“That’s right, sir! How can a professor call for recitation under these conditions?” Miss Ursula Bahaghari groused…fakely.
Shaq spoke up again. “According to the guy, there hasn’t been too many brownouts for quite a while because those fellows over at BENECO—they run such a good system! He said the school hasn’t even had to use the genset for over a year and a half now.”
“Riiiight…” I said, “so they want to crank that thing on and off for the last half hour because they were feeling sentimental about the LAST time they had to run the generator?”
“Something like that sir,” Shaq said, throwing the class into guffaws, “they said that generator has seen so little use, they’re not so sure if it will still start!”
“Remind me to tell BENECO that’s how they should write their ad copy—‘do you still remember your generator? We work hard to make you forget ever owning one!” I said, doing an impression of a baritone-voiced FM radio announcer. The class laugh boisterously at my lousy impression.
“Don’t quit your day job, or teaching in the evenings, sir!”
“Well…enjoy it while it lasts,” I said.
“Sir….? What do you mean? Enjoy WHAT while it lasts?” Miss Pinky asked with a knot on her forehead. Her classmates all leaned forward, equally intrigued to hear what will be said next…by anyone.
"Nothing, nothing..." I said dismissively, "just that this genset noise and you guys mentioning BENECO is bringing back some fading memories," I said.
“Sir, were been following your exploits with your Alpha Class last year on Facebook. We were enthralled by the way they ran around Baguio and Benguet infecting everyone with their enthusiasm in defending BENECO...” Miss Pinky intoned.
“It was so inspiring, sir!” piped in Mr. Roberto Sigalot, “how the General Manager Engr. Mel Licoben continued to run the coop’s operations smoothly inspite of all the obstacles the NEA threw his way!”
“Yes, sir!” added Miss Mona Lee So, “and those Magnificent Seven members of the principled Board of Directors, they backed GM Licoben every step of the way, even though they were getting clobbered hard by NEA themselves! That was really amazing!”
“People keep saying ‘Magnificent Seven’ Miss Mona,” I interrupted, “but they hardly ever say their NAMES. I bet even YOU don’t know their names—” but she interrupted me back
“Esteban Somngi, Jeffred Acop, Mike Maspil, Peter Busaing, Jonathan Obar, Josephine Tuling and Robert Valentin!” Miss Mona Lee So ran down their names unflinchingly—and halfway through the list the entire class even joined her in unison.
Well, what do you know. Maybe these “Magnificent Seven” weren’t so anonymous, after all.
Oskar Cannell, the hockey fan from Canada, said “As long as GM Mel Licoben and those amazing BENECO directors are there, the building maintenance people might as well keep the school generator in mothballs, sir. Right now BENECO is running like a well-oiled machine so I quote Mayor Benjie Magalong ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it!’ It’s gonna last for a looooong time, this exquisite quality of service sir, you can bet on it!”
I sat quietly. I stared THROUGH the class with a far gaze, for a long time.
My class started getting uneasy. They started looking at each other with quizzical looks, “what’s going on??”
“Sir…..?”
Finally, I looked up and straight in the eye level at my doe-eyed law students.
“I have bad news for you,” I started, then hesitated if I should continue on with what I was about to say. Then I just decided to spit it out, “GM Mel Licoben IS OUT.”
Stone-cold silence.
“Wha---What happened, sir…??” Miss Pinky finally managed to ask softly.
“Apparently it WAS broken,” I answered even softer, speaking barely audibly, “Apparently it HAD to be FIXED…”
“BENECO was broken, sir? And removing GM Mel was the FIX??” Miss Ursula asked.
“I don’t know, Miss Ursula. Sometimes god moves in strange and anomalous ways—and because I am just saying this verbally and not writing it down, I have to give notice to you that I use the word god NOT with a capital G.” I said.
“You’re referring to NEA as a god, sir??” Miss Pinky asked with a worried look on her face.
“Awww, come on, sir, spit it out please!!!” Shaq thundered, “please tell us WHAT ELSE did god DO this week??”
“Well, god appointed five new directors and also made it clear that Atty. Anna Marie Rafael WAS the general manager all through 2021 and 2022. It's just that god thought she did a lousy job, so god fired her too.”
“That’s terrible!” said Roberto Sigalot, “it’s a good thing god cannot do all of that and expect to be able to get away with it. Wait till god hears from the Magnificent Seven! Hell hath no fury like seven angels flashing the sword of righteous indignation!”
“I don’t think so, Roberto,” I deflated his enthusiasm right away. I almost didn’t have the heart to tell him next, “ALL the MAGNIFICENT SEVEN are out too.”
I saw twenty five jaws drop to the floor.
“Whaaatt…???” Miss Pinky asked, her voice cracking.
“You heard me. They are out, and out for good. They cannot run for re-election to the same BENECO Board of Directors or to ANY board of directors in ANY electric cooperative anywhere in the Philippines.”
Twenty-five junior law students couldn’t believe what they heard.
“Is there SUCH a penalty in ANY LAW in this country, sir?? Permanent civil interdiction as an ACCESSORY penalty of removal in an ADMINISTRATIVE CASE??” Miss Ursula shrieked.
“Is that even CONSTITUTIONAL? That is not a PENALTY, sir. That’s a PUNISHMENT—a cruel and unusual one, too!” Miss Pinky added.
“Well, according to god, it’s all hunky-dory. Nothing to it.” I said.
“Yeah, but…who—WHO’S going to be the GM now, sir?” Shaq asked.
“Engineer Ramel Rifani,” I said.
“That’s funny, I didn’t read that in the BENECO website, sir,” said Miss Ursula.
“No, Miss Ursula, they’re not really saying the name ‘Engr. Ramil Rifani’ too loud, the announcement in the website only said god was revoking and recalling Atty. Rafael’s appointment. god did not mention her replacement.”
“Maybe they’re not replacing her, sir?” Shaq interjected.
I turned around to my side to look at the man-mountain Shaq in the eye and stretched out my arm, “Get thee behind me, satan!!!” I said with my best Jesus-voice impression. But this time, my class was in no mood to laugh.
“Oh...” I said, “Anyway, there WILL be someone at the helm because BENECO is now under a Project Supervisor.”
“Don’t tell us, sir---god?”
“Uh-huh,” I said.
“This is all preposterous, sir. This is not going to fly, I swear. After everything I read from your posts all through last year, no way this NEA god is going to be able to pull this through, not with those BENECO MCO’s with ‘balls the size of cantaloupes’ as you said last year, sir!” Miss Ursula thundered.
She was joined by Miss Pinky, “That god better be ready….if Miss Deema learns about this there will be hell to pay!” and the whole class joined in muted applause.
I was quiet once more. My class was intrigued once more.
“Siiiirr….?”
“Don’t hold your breath on that one, class. She’s not the same Deema…the first four letters are still good, though.” I said.
“Really, sir…..?” the two girls held each other hands. I could have sworn I heard them starting to sob softly.
“When life gives you lemons—” I was going the to quote a cliché but Roberto jumped in.
“Hurl them as hard as you can at those sanamabitches!!!”
“No, no, no—don’t be like that. No violence. Ever,” I said, “you cannot undo these things, especially now that apparently the MCO’s are all going with this—” again I was interrupted by the feisty Miss Ursula.
“Why do people keep saying that phrase ‘GOING WITH THIS’ but they hardly ever say what ‘THIS’ means? May I recap everything sir and see if we’re all on the same page here??”
“Take your best shot, Miss Ursula,” I greenlighted the volunteer summarizer.
“Let’s see: here’s a summary of the extrajudicial admissions now made by the BENECO, and its MCO’s, especially your valiant Alpha Class, sir. (1) GM Licoben was never really the GM, only the AGM; (2) NEA can appoint a GM directly without passing through the Board of Directors, after all; (3) a Project Supervisor for BENECO is proper, which means BENECO must be an ailing cooperative after all; (4) NEA does exercise the power of direct control and not just supervision as they kept saying all through last year; (5) the Magnificent Seven were not really given a new term by the BENECO members in that Annual Regular General Assembly Meeting or ‘ARGAM’ last year, 2022; (6) those four ‘disloyal’ directors who made life so difficult for the Magnificent Seven were not really expelled by the BENECO members in that Annual General Membership Assembly or ‘AGMA’ in 2021, which means (7) Atty. Rafael was actually correct when she said those two assemblies were fake; (
the standards for qualifications for coop officers are not really that strict if five directors can be appointed that swiftly without any vetting process whatsoever; (9) NEA does have the power to rewrite national law by expanding penal provisions without having to go to Congress (10) BENECO’s bank accounts could be unfrozen by NEA anytime it wants, so there wasn’t even any need for BENECO to have gone to court at all; (11) the member-consumers of BENECO don’t really figure in the decision making in any way; (12) all those nasty accusations of corruption against the Magnificent Seven are now supported by the MCO’s who have dropped these directors like a hot potato; (13) all this hulla-ballo about ‘PRINCIPLED STAND FOR THIS AND THAT’ are just punchlines….how am I doing, sir?”
“Why are you stopping, Miss Ursula? You seem to be on a roll there, continue,” I said.
“I…I…can’t, sir. I’m so sorry---” and Miss Ursula couldn’t hold it anymore. She sat down, buried her face in her hands, slowly broke down and started a muffled weeping.
I let a few moments pass before swallowing hard, and delivering my closing arguments for the night.
“There are no permanent friends or permanent enemies, class. Only permanent self-interests and permanent ambitions. And everybody lies—lawyers, engineers, nurses—everybody. Let that sink in your minds…and in your hearts. Everybody lies, only at DIFFERENT times. It is what it is.
“When people say they stand on principles, sometimes they really mean it--literally. Their principles are REALLY underneath their feet, they are really trampling upon their own values they confessed earlier.
“Heroes? There are no permanent heroes, either. I’m sorry if I subconsciously made you look up to certain empowered men and women who said all the right words at all the right times. I’m sorry I made you believe in those heroes. But now you know heroes can change. There are no permanent heroes---only unending wars."
My whole class fell sullen, and I heard more sobs.
“I will see you tomorrow…please brush up on Chapter Three, Evidence---for tomorrow’s recitation. We will learn how to PROVE what we might have always known….class dismissed.”
I slowly walked out of the classroom. No one followed.*
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