On 20 August, my family, friends, and I quietly remembered the fourth year of my father, Mayor Vergel “Nene” Aguilar’s, passing. Four years may have gone by, yet the lessons of his life, especially his selfless leadership, continue to speak to me and, I believe, to every Las Piñero whose life he touched.

Papa Nene’s public service journey began in 1992 as vice mayor of Las Piñas. Three years later, in 1995, he assumed the mayoralty and introduced programs that became lifelines for ordinary families. He envisioned a city where no one would be left behind.

Through fiscal discipline, he launched the Green Card system, giving every Las Piñero up to P30,000 to P40,000 worth of medical assistance. For parents who could not afford tuition, he established the Dr. Filemon Aguilar Memorial College, where countless young men and women became the first in their families to obtain a degree, free of charge. Under his watch, the city was also installed in the Hall of Fame for being the cleanest and greenest in Metro Manila.

But perhaps what people remember most fondly were his simple yet life-changing innovations: the Friendship Route to ease traffic so mothers could bring their children to school on time; free wheelchairs quietly delivered to homes; and the city staff instructed to prioritize the sick and elderly without delay. These were not grand gestures for show, but steady acts of generosity woven into daily governance.

I often recall stories told by ordinary Las Piñeros. A mother once approached me, teary-eyed, saying her son had survived leukemia because of the medical assistance program. A student, now an accountant, thanked Papa for her free education that lifted her entire family out of poverty. For them, he was not just a mayor, he was a father figure whose compassion shaped their futures.

Despite his achievements, Papa Nene remained a humble man. He never moved out of our modest home in Manuela, where neighbors could easily knock on his door to ask for help. His life was simple — work always came first — though he also found joy in tending to his fighting cocks. In both his private life and his public service, he spoke less and demonstrated more.

As his daughter, I saw how his quiet strength and compassion formed a legacy built not on wealth or power, but on kindness and integrity. He showed us that real leadership is not about the applause of men, but about the unseen sacrifices made for others. He often spoke to me about wanting to make sure that children got a good quality education in Las Piñas so they could help uplift their families. He always had a solution in mind.

Today, as we remember him, I am reminded of these words: “And the King will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for Me.’” (Matthew 25:40)

May his memory remind us all that leadership — whether in government, in our communities, or in our homes — finds its highest purpose when it is lived for others.