The name of the father

Nothing is a coincidence. People come and go in our lives, sometimes for a minute, often for a while, rarely a lifetime. Some come into our lives for a reason, and they usually end up being unexpected blessings.

I recently met a man of great stature at the birthday celebration of one of his daughters. Known in Philippine society as a force to reckon with, his influence crosses over many industries. The sound of his name equates with power like a modern-day Goliath — admired yet feared because of a storied past, one that makes the man an enigma.

Upon his arrival at the event, it was easy to see how people effortlessly gravitated towards him. Then it grew in magnitude. Puzzled, all I could hear from afar was the word “manong” — a Filipino term of respect for an elder. Amid the overwhelming clamor, I remained unfazed, but pretty soon, everyone was all over him. I felt there was no way I could get past the maddening crowd and conduct my “interview.”

This public servant is overflowing with stellar appeal that’s quite fascinating to watch.

I whispered to my boss (who was beside me) that I didn’t think a conversation would be possible anytime soon. She managed to get a quick hold of him, asked for a short and sweet audience, which “manong” kindly obliged. In less than five minutes, he was walking towards me.

Sitting beside me, he shook my hand gently and gave me a warm smile. For a second, I froze, then told myself what’s a couple of questions and let’s see where it goes.

I asked him first what his wish was for the daughter celebrating her birthday. ‘The Godfather’ in a second transformed into a loving and doting father, as he replied, “I hope she will learn everything that I have done. I mean, what I am doing. Because I think she’s very different from my other daughters.”

It begged the question, of course: “And what quality in you do you find in your daughter?”

He did not hesitate, saying, “She’s very different from the others and for me a I think she’s the one who can follow whatever I am doing now.”

I thought, this man did not get to be called “Manong” if he were a weak or less generous man. Perhaps, I thought, his daughter was just as strong, perhaps just as willing to help others, perhaps a doer like her father.

Now being a little at ease with him, I asked, “Where do you have your clothes made?” He replied with a smile, “Pinapagawa damit ko (I have my clothes made).” No branded names here — just a simple blazer and polo shirt with pants — and an interesting red, white and black beaded band/bracelet (definitely like the tribal or traditional pieces from the North) that caught this discerning eye.

The man obviously takes pride in wearing culture on his sleeves — appreciating roots that run deep in heritage and ancestry. It is no surprise, I find, that this cultural advocate has consistently championed this movement towards preservation and restoration.

So who’s got the rizz (a slang commonly used by Generation Z for the word charisma)? This public servant is overflowing with stellar appeal that’s quite fascinating to watch.

Seriously, one can even feel it and can’t help but be drawn to his effortless magnetism. It is not staged, nor is it put on — it’s just so real. So I asked, “Sir, what’s the secret?” He laughs and retorts, “My secret is secret.” Everyone around us fondly burst into laughter.

This man of ‘now’ talks about the near and relevant future. From free education to transportation to even trying to ensure all Filipinos have a bank account, he clearly has the pulse of the nation.

One thing is for certain, I thought, this father figure is serious about issues that need to be addressed urgently — not because of want, but of need that’s not even his own. For him, it’s about the bigger picture and grand scale of things — matter of factly, collectively and inclusively.

A father at heart, who wants nothing but only the best for his children with a legacy immortalized in history from generation to generation — his is a name that will last forever: Luis “Chavit” Singson.