I was a little boy, very smart, the smartest in class, everybody said. And we visited this school, big school. The first thing I saw wasn’t a flag, nor the alphabet, wasn’t even a chalkboard. It was “Senator Ralph G. Recto.” Huge letters. Brass. Bigger than me.

I thought: “Is he the owner? Did Senator Recto buy the crayons? Hammer the nails with his bare, little senator hands?

If Ralph gets an entire building, what would I get if I study hard?

If the building falls down, do we blame Ralph?

If his name fades, will the school stop working?

Kids didn’t know the multiplication table yet, but everybody knew Sen. Ralph G. Recto.

I only knew the name. Until Vilma. Everybody knows she’s a star. My mom shook hands with her. Said she wet her pants. True story. That’s charisma. Fame.

Nobody’s wetting her pants for Ralph. Nobody’s saying, “Ahhkk, it’s the guy on the school building.”

Ralph just confused me like, if I didn’t know him, why does he have to introduce himself to me, through a building?

Very creepy, frankly. Like when a stranger waves at you and says, “Don’t forget my name!” And you’re eight.

They don’t build the road, carry one rock, never held the shovel. But they slap their name on the arch, the roads, the waiting shed?

Imagine if doctors did that. You get the thing out. You wake up, there’s a sign on your stomach: “Appendix Removal by Dr. Santos.” Nobody would survive!

At a wedding, imagine the priest saying: “This kiss is sponsored by Senator ____.” Divorce guaranteed.

Imagine toilet paper doleouts, every square with their face. Or, before every flight: “In case of an emergency, thank Congressman ___ for your life jacket.” Plane hasn’t even taken off, you’re already praying.

And now the bridges are collapsing. Are these men still proud?

Roads used to be roads. You drove on them. Nobody cared. Now it’s “Look at my father’s asphalt!”

“Look at my grandfather’s gravel!”

Now, a lawmaker wants to rename some road around Taal Lake. After her grandfather, like he himself poured the lava.

Because “he was selfless.” Selfless? When the view is Taal and you still need the credit, on taxpayer money, is it selflessness or a cry for attention?

Multi-year improvement. Millions spent. And we’re supposed to care that Grumpy was patriotic in 1940?

Family just won another seat. I’m telling you we’ll have highways that read like a happy family: “Turn right at Cousin Rico, straight past Tita Beng, exit at Nephew Boy!”

We didn’t vote for this. Roads are neutral. They have no loyalty. It should take us forward. The name would drag us back.

If you want to name a road after your grandfather, fine. Donate it. Private citizens pay millions just to wake up to that view. And a dynasty gets free advertising?

A true leader leaves no name behind. Only a better country. A dynasty’s name on a road is proof the work wasn’t for us.

We taught ourselves that theft was normal the moment we let names replace service. By the time the ghosts were stealing flood projects, we’d already stopped being surprised.