Every August of every year since more than two and a half decades ago, we are reminded of a grim moment in our history when our only hope for freedom from fear and bondage banished before our blindfolded eyes. The image of the man bloodied and lying face down in what seemed to be a kiss of death to his motherland is seen over and over again yet never ever made sense to anyone. Even those whom we depend on to give us answers remain entrapped in the question: Who killed Ninoy Aquino?
The rational Filipinos would probably smirk at the question and ask back: Would the answer still be relevant today?
The cynical Filipinos would surrender all hopes of finding the answer and just go on with their lives. After all, 25 years have produced nothing but 16 jailed suspects who kept mum about everything except to say they maintain their innocence.
The curious Filipinos would seek their own answers but end up asking more questions instead.
The sentimental Filipinos, who wear Ninoy in their hearts, would be roused by the question and take every opportunity to blame someone for what happened but their cries would always fall on deaf ears and numb membranes.
The forgetful Filipinos, remembering Ninoy only as the face on the money and because his death anniversary is a special non-working holiday, would need to be reminded every so often that the sword of justice has yet to fall on the real culprit behind our hero’s assassination.
The young Filipinos, meanwhile, wonder what the fuss is all about, google Ninoy on the internet, buy a Ninoy shirt to look cool, and then go on listening to their iPods, texting their friends, and updating their social network site.
No matter who we are as a Filipino, it is our quest to find out the truth behind this most daring murder and attack on the symbol of our hope and freedom that is now an infamous part of our history. We owe it to Ninoy and to each of our fellows for the sake of our nation’s depleting moral fibre.
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